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extremelyblackandwhite · 7 months

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pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: things are picking up now xx

masterlist

and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

Waking up on a Friday was also the toughest thing to do. At least, it had become an issue ever since Sadie realised that the 5th day of the week usually meant the last one at kindie before she got to spend the next two days at home. In fewer words, the two year old had learned the concept of a regular working week which is a feat considering her father blatantly disregards the sanctity of a Monday to Friday work week in favour of a messier approach. Y/N was almost sure his motto was screw work-life balance; nevertheless, Sadie made it incredibly hard to bathe and dress with all her excitement with what to do over the weekend, specially since Steve was around.

She finished brushing and braiding Sadie's hair, straightening her uniform so she wouldn't get yet another passive aggressive note from the PTA mums complaining about tidy uniforms - as if it was possible to get a 2 year old to be tidy. The two went downstairs with Sadie running to the breakfast table once she saw some donuts laying around which she was sure to only eat the pink icing of and hand Y/N or Bucky the donut itself.

There was something ... off. Bucky was silently buttering a slice of toast and Steve was staring into the further wall which Y/N knew was not that interesting.

- Who died? - Y/N asked as she sat down.

- It's Friday morning, Y/N. Sorry if we're not singing Kumbaya my lord. - Bucky replied, taking a bite of his toast.

- Thank god, you can't hold a tune. - Y/N smirked, helping Sadie place a napkin on her lap. - We're gonna need to get Sadie a new uniform, by the way.

- A new one? - Bucky looked up from his plate. - Swear we bought her that one a few months ago.

- We need to get the winter uniform. She doesn't fit the one from last year and it's starting to get chilly.

- Take the AMEX and buy it today. - Bucky fished through his wallet before handing Y/N the gold card. - Oh, get her one of those lunchbox thingies. I saw some kids with them the other day.

- Hm, now describe such lunchbox thingie, Sergeant.

- What do you mean? The thingies the kids carry along with their lunchbox for soup or water. The round thing.

- A thermos? Why would Sadie need a thermos?

- Yeah Bucky, she's a 2 year old not a college student. - Steve said, handing Sadie a donut. - She doesn't need one.

- Y/N get her one. Get one for yourself too, you eat soup right?

- I have a thermos, thank you.

Sadie, as expected, ate the sprinkles and frosting off the donut and handed the half eaten donut to Y/N. She excused her from the table, kissing the top of her head and sending her on her merry way to wash her hands and get her backpack, leaving Y/N to bring the dirty dishes to the kitchen. Bucky followed behind like a puppy, carrying some leftover pastries and fruit to put in the fridge before they ended up with fruit flies.

- Are you going to Columbia today? - he said, opening the fridge nonchalantly.

- No. I'm going to come back home after dropping Sadie. I have some online meetings booked with some experts in the UK and France about some topics in my PhD and the library didn't have any available private rooms.

- I'll ask Steve to come down with me to the office then.

- That's not necessary. - Y/N loaded the dishwasher with the plates, looking at Bucky, taking a very good look. He didn't look as put together as he usually did. His hair, usually wavy yet gelled into place, was messy and he wasn't wearing his suit yet. - I'll just go to my bedroom.

- You can use my office. - was he trying to get on her good graces once more? - The internet signal is better there.

- It's your office, Sergeant. I'm not gonna use it.

- I absolutely hate it when you call me Sergeant. - he shut the fridge, leaning against it. - Look ...

He sighed, his eyes not meeting hers.

- I'm sorry. - those words came from his lips very slowly, as if it pained to say them and if Bucky were being honest it pained him to say them. Bucky wasn't sorry but that didn't mean he wanted Y/N to hate him forever. - It's not my place to interfere with your relationship.

- I know. - she shrugged. - If you think your opinion of my love life interferes with it in any way, you're wrong.

- I'm just trying to look out for you. There's a lot of wolves in New York.

- I'm not a country bumpkin, Sergeant. I know how to look after myself.

- So ... are you and Chris Davis dating then?

- That it none of your business, Sergeant.

- It actually is. - he smirked. - You see, you are my employee, he is my employee which means if two of my employees are dating they should tell HR.

- You're not HR, you're the CEO.

- Maybe I multitask, how about that?

- That would be illegal and a conflict of interests, Sergeant. Besides, why are you so interested in my relationship? Are you bored of yours?

- He's just not the type of guy I would picture you with.

Of course not. Bucky had always considered Y/N would end up with someone ambitious, someone who'd crawl and give blood, sweat and tears to get what they wanted. Chris Davis, although not a complete dunce, was not that. He was smart but he wasn't innovative - what he was good at was packaging old ideals to newer audiences. He didn't come up with new marketing ideas, nothing that hadn't been done and when he did it was usually under the guide of an executive. He wasn't his worse employee but he also wasn't his best and Bucky wanted Y/N to have the best.

- Clearly. - Y/N dried her hands. - As if you have a good track record of relationships.

- Is this about Anna? Are you still pissed off because of Anna?

- You can't treat people like crap and then expect them to forgive you.

- I know but you have to understand that me and Anna ...

- You are a father first, Sergeant. You can't potentially hurt your child because you're so blinded by this stupid notion of "a real family". You and Sadie are a real family, you don't need Anna and you can't force her. If Sadie was any older she could've gotten very hurt.

- I know but if it had gone well ...

- Bucky. - Y/N interrupted him. She didn't want to be mean, she didn't want to be hateful about a woman she'd never met, specially the woman who birthed Sadie. - If you think the woman who left a baby in front of your door and has never attempted contact would suddenly change your mind, you're naive.

- You wanna know what's funny? - he moved away from the fridge to get closer to her.

Y/N almost took a step back. She didn't like being close to Bucky, it was always weird for her. Bucky, despite being her boss, was an attractive man, an attractive and imposing figure and she sometimes would find herself divided between fear of what he would say and fear of what she usually did at night when she thought of him.

- I don't think anything is funny about that situation.

- Anna would've liked you. - he said before turning around, almost happy that he'd gotten her a bit speechless for a while, happy he got to be the dominant one for a bit. - And you would've liked Anna.

- I doubt I'd like any woman who would willingly sleep with you.

- She didn't like any woman who would willingly sleep with me either. - Y/N rolled her eyes, not really understanding what Bucky was trying to get at. He was always like this, jumped over bad moments looking for some peaceful solitude in an off hand joke or confusing statement. - Are we gonna continue being mad at one another?

- Who said I was mad at you?

- Fine, if you're not mad then take my office upstairs for your meetings.

Before Y/N could reply something regarding his very flawed logic who wouldn't win him any debate, Sadie came walking through the kitchen, dragging her backpack through the floor and her yellow raincoat so Y/N could help her onto the plastic garment.

- Hey squid. - Bucky lowered down to her help, taking over Y/N to help Sadie into her raincoat. - Do you want a thermos?

- What? - she looked at him eyes wide, probably not knowing what a thermos even was. The red head looked at her au pair, looking for clues about what her dad was talking about. Y/N just smiled and shrugged. - Yes.

- See? Told you she wanted a thermos. - Bucky picked her up to kiss her cheek, directing his voice towards Y/N.

- She doesn't know what a thermos is, Bucky. - Y/N took Sadie from him.

(...)

When she returned from dropping Sadie off, buying her an overpriced uniform and a thermos which she would probably only use by the time she was 12, she found an empty house. Bucky had made good on his promise, leaving a note telling her Steve was with him as well as where to find the key to the office. The office was usually locked due to Sadie, according to Bucky, having almost gotten hurt. If Bucky's dramatic retelling was to be believed, when Sadie had started to walk she'd manage to get into the office and grab a stapler which she was keen on using until Bucky caught her. However knowing Bucky and knowing 2 year old Sadie who still struggled to reach the handles of doors, she reckoned he was overreacting or probably saw something similar in one of those "scare the parents" TV shows.

Nevertheless, the office/study had been locked and Y/N had never had been inside, yet once she got inside, it looked like what she expected Bucky to have as a work space. It was white, bright and minimalist with a few knickknacks from when he had been stationed in Italy and some first version novels which had undoubtedly came from his mother. His desk was deep mahogany, neatly kept with all contents at a 90 degree angle.

She moved to seat on his chair, putting her laptop on the middle of her desk and logging into Zoom. She waited for the right time, her eyes hoovering over everything in his desk from the gold pens, to the tape and the photo frames. He had a big photo of Sadie when she was a newborn followed by a few others, yet what called her attention were two gold circled frames - one with a photo of Sadie and Y/N when she had first started to work for them and one of Y/N and Sadie at Christmas.

She didn't allow herself to dwell much on it, she had meetings to get to. Besides, this was nothing big. It was just a photo of his daughter that he liked which Y/N happened to appear in. She had bigger fish to fry now than wondering about Bucky.

(...)

The work day wasn't any better for Bucky. Steve was being, well, Steve and to describe Steve is to describe someone who likes playing both sides to get to a decision which everyone is happy with. He knew he shouldn't have brought up the stuff about his wife, Steve would never try to break a relationship, heck he wouldn't even think it. Nevertheless, now Steve and Y/N were upset at him - maybe they can unionise and start a little "We hate Bucky", maybe they'll get branded thermos.

- Sergeant Barnes? - his assistant knocked on the door. She was pretty, very pretty and Bucky was almost certain they'd slept together ... almost. Yet today not even the pretty assistant could sort his mood out. - Christopher Davis wants to talk to you.

- Christopher Davis? - oh yes, the best way to make his day, seeing Chris Davis. - What does he want?

- He says it'll be a quick word, Sergeant Barnes. Should I send him in?

- 5 minutes. - he sighed, closing his laptop. Maybe making Chris Davis squirm would make his day, yet again, he was sure the "We hate Bucky" club would not enjoy that. Besides, it was hair washing tonight for Sadie and last time he tried, he had ended up inside the bathtub.

Chris Davis walked into the office, the mere sight of him ignoring Bucky. Did Y/N seriously find that attractive? He was so bland, so boring, the only interesting thing about him was that he was rich and Bucky was almost certain he only finished his PhD because his godmother is Professor Anderson. Nevertheless, here he was, taking a seat in one of the chairs of his office without even asking. This is the guy who gets to see Y/N naked? Life really is unfair.

- What do you need Davis?

- I know this will probably be crossing a line but I was wondering if you could let Y/N have the weekend off.

- What Y/N? - he cocked a brow at him.

- My Y/N.

- My daughter's au pair Y/N? - Bucky rested against his chair, looking down at the man in front of him. - Why?

- I was thinking of taking her to the new restaurant downtown but she said she was busy with Sadie. I wouldn't ask but it's really hard to get reservations and I got one and I would love to take her.

Oh, this was fun.

- Y/N has always had the weekends off. She doesn't work weekends unless she wants to, specially not this weekend which I'll spend at home. Besides, she doesn't have a fixed work schedule.

- Oh ...

- Maybe fix your communication issues with her before you come and waste my precious time, Davis. You can go now.

(...)

Having meeting after meeting had really wasted all energy Y/N had and to congratulate herself for not crying when someone suggested another alteration to her project with a thick French accent, she decided to cuddle against one of Bucky's many small yet cuddly cashmere blankets in the couch of the living room watching Gilmore Girls. She was close to snoozing off when the front door opened and closed. It could be Bucky, Steve or a burglar but she was much too tired to actually check.

- Oh, Y/N, do I have some gossip to share with you. - Bucky. It was Bucky and it was the first time she'd heard him say the word gossip. That couldn't be good.

He walked with a douchey smile to stand in front of the TV, sitting on top of the coffee table and staring at her, just waiting for her to question him on it and she was much too tired to avoid playing his game.

- What? Someone you fucked got pregnant?

- Someone came into my office asking about you. I didn't know that you were gonna be busy with Sadie this week. Isn't Steve taking her to Coney Island?

- What?

- You're using me and my kid as an excuse not to go out with Chris Davis? - he chuckled. - What? Is he a bad lay or something?

- Oh shut up!

- Small dick?

- This is highly unprofessional. - she turned around to face the couch.

- And sleeping on my couch isn't? C'mon, tell me, Y/N. Are you tired to pretend to orgasm or have you just figured out he's just bland.

- You're such a child! - she got up, folding the blankets so she could get away from her but he kept going after her. - Why don't you go pick up your daughter?

- Steve has her. I wanna know more, I thought everything was okay in the Y/N-Chris relationship. Is he one of those guys who cries when he cums? Is that it? Is he a crier?

- Why won't you shut up?

- Or maybe he can't find your clit. You know, he can barely find the copy room sometimes and that's way bigger.

- He is perfectly fine, I just don't want to hang out and I didn't want to hurt his feelings but because you can't lie to save your goddamn life I know have to go.

- He's taking you to Le Coucou, you may want to brush your hair before you go. The poor thing fought so hard to get reservations but obviously you prefer to eat buttered noodles with Sadie.

- I have been to Le Coucou.

- I know, I took you there. - he smirked. - And here I was thinking you'd soon start bringing your boyfriend around.

- I don't want to go. I'm tired, I need to wash Sadie's hair tonight and that will take time and I am not in the headspace to get ready.

- I'm sure Chris would love it if you came in with a soaked white t-shirt.

- You're a dick, Bucky.

Before Bucky could continue with his teasing about it, Y/N's phone started ringing. She grabbed it from the counter and put it up to her ear as she saw Sadie's school number. Bucky watched, mostly hoping it was Chris so he could tease her some more but as the colour drained from her face, he realised he wasn't. She put her phone down and looked at Bucky.

- We have to go. - Y/N looked overwhelmed, looking around fo something. - Sadie has appendicitis. They called an ambulance and she's going to the New York-Presbyterian Hospital.

- Shit. - Bucky rushed to grab his keys.

- Where's her toy, where's a toy? - Y/N started throwing pillows around, looking for Sadie's cuddly toy.

- Y/N, let's go.

- NO! - she screamed at him. - She's scared and when she's scared she needs her toy and I knew, I knew she was a bit off when I dropped her off and I should've known better and I ...

- Y/N. - he held her shoulders, stopping her in place. - I'll go find her toy, get the car going and drive there.

- But yo ...

- I'll get a cab. Now you go and stay with her, I'll meet you there with the cuddly toy. Go.

taglist: @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan/y/n #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky/reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky/you #bucky x y/n #bucky/y/n

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zxvmp · 10 months

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You smoke? Tomioka x Fem!reader

Nsfw, Mentions and use of weed, 18+, modern college au, you’re all over the age of 18.

a/n: basically you get high with tomioka and you fuck 🤑 you’re best friends with sanemi and tengen

(smut is more towards the end if you wanna just get to that)

You heard your phone buzz as you finished straightening your hair, checking your phone it was from a group chat with Sanemi and Tengen. You three had been friends since sophomore year in high school, so you were all pretty close.

Yo (y/n) you wanna hot box? I’ll pick you and Sanemi up - Tengen 5:37PM

Um why can’t we do it without her? - Sanemi 5:37PM

Maybe cause she has the shit dumbass 💀 Tbh you don’t even need to come - Tengen 5:38PM

Sounds like a plan 🤑 when are you coming? - You 5:38PM

I’m actually already at your place I was gonna force you if you said no - Tengen 5:38 PM

Such a fucking fein 😭 pick me up soon - Sanemi 5:39PM

😐 - Tengen 5:39PM

Seen by all 5:40PM

You giggled and put your hair up in a claw clip, curtain bangs framing your face. You grabbed some joints you rolled up earlier and slid on some fuzzy unicorn slippers.

“Where are you going dressed in a hoodie and my jogging pants?” Mitsuri laughed.

“Uhhh nowhere…” You say quickly shoving the weed in your pocket.

You had told people you’d stopped smoking a while ago, Tomioka always scolded you for doing it.

“Don’t tell me you’re-”

“Bye Mitsuri love you!” You say quickly dashing out of your shared apartment room.

You skipped down the hallway and jumped down the stairs, you hadn’t hot boxed with your friends in a while so you were abut excited. As you came into sight of Tengen he honked his horn at you, you flipped him off and hopping into the passenger seat.

“Let’s prank Sanemi when we pick him up, tell him you lost the weed.” Tengen snickered as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“Bro he’s gonna murder us if we mess with him. Remember the last time we said that?” You say staring out the window to observe the sunset.

“Who cares, it’ll be funny.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, he was right, it was funny to get a reaction out of him.

As you arrived at Sanemis place you made sure nothing was in sight for him to see and pulled out your phone.

“Let’s go up the road to our normal spot.” Sanemi said plopping down in the backseat.

“Yeah, about that, (y/n) lost the goods..” Tengen said hiding his face with his hand so Sanemi couldn’t see his smile.

“Bro are you fucking serious? (Y/n) why’re you so goddamn stupid.” Sanemi said flicking your arm.

“Ow!” You say slapping his hand. “We can just go to the store or something.”

“I’m going back inside, waste of my time.” Sanemi said opening the car door, cursing and muttering things under his breath.

You and Tengen snickered as you both had your phones out recording.

“Well now that he’s gone let’s go get high.” You say loud enough for Sanemi to hear.

Tengen locked the car doors before Sanemi could open them, making him bang on the window and beg to be let in. You and Tengen burst out laughing as Sanemi screamed at the two of you.

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR ALREADY!”

Tengen finally unlocked the doors, allowing Sanemi in.

“Haha very funny, I swear to god you guys will be the death of me.”

“Will this make you feel better?” You say pulling out a blunt and swinging it in front of his face, quickly snatching it away before he could grab it.

“So how’s it going with you and Tomioka?” Sanemi smirked, knowing about your fat crush on him.

“How are you and Kanae? Oh right! She went to a different university.” You smirk back.

“Alright you guys, let’s not kill each other before we can do our hot box.” Tengen said pulling up to a spot you guys always went too to get high.

The place was always empty and gave you guys a good view of the city and the sunset.

“Okay well at least I can pull people.” Sanemi said.

“Sorry i’m not a hoe like you, I like to enjoy my time with people and not just fuck.” You say pulling out your lighter and blunts. “Now who wants to green out?”

The rest of the night was spent with loud laughing and music, smoke covering the entire car.

“Holy shit Sanemi why is there two of you?” You giggle as you turn to look at the white haired boy.

“I’m so hungry.” Sanemi said rubbing his red eyes.

All you could hear was Tengen uncontrollably laughing at god knows what.

“Tengen shut the fuck up, what’s so funny?” Sanemi said slurring his words a bit.

“I don’t even know!” Tengen snickered, causing the two of you to start burst out in laughter.

“Wait I think I need to throw up.” You say immediately stopping your laughter.

“Bro go outside and do it, not in my car.” Tengen said still giggling.

“Sike!” You say as you burst out into laughter again. As you looked at Sanemi you saw him clench his stomach as his face turned pale.

“Yo I think he greened out, we win!” You say cheering.

You guys had a challenge to see who would green our first, a very dumb decision. Sanemi opened the car door, releasing an ungodly amount of smoke from the car.

You pulled out your phone to record so you could use the video against him one day.

“Oh shit, Tengen look at him!” You giggle as you watched Sanemi throw up his guts. (not literally)

“Bro send that to me.” Tengen said hitting your shoulder and snickering.

Your laughter was cut short as you started to become very dizzy, head throbbing in pain.

“Let’s head back to Sanemis place, I’m done for the night.” You say leaning back into the car seat.

“Alright, let me get Sanemi back in the car real quick.” Tengen said.

About an hour passed since your smoke-sesh with your friends, and you were passed out on Sanemis bed. You woke up in the middle of the night and checked your phone to see who had been blowing you up.

Tomioka slid up on your snapchat story with a question mark. Shit, you posted a photo of you and the others in Sanemis room with Sanemi on the floor passed out and Tengen laughing with a joint in his hand.

You decided to call Tomioka instead of texting, to lazy to type to him.

“Why’re you up so late?” You ask, leaving the room to let the boys sleep.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Tomioka replied.

“Well you texted me first silly.”

“Yeah about that, I thought you quit?”

You paused before answering, not knowing what excuse to use.

“Well, it was just one time, I needed to clear my head.”

Part of what you said was true, you hadn’t gotten high in a while and you did want to get your mind of things.

Tomioka hummed, “Can you come over tomorrow?”

“Why?” You smirk to yourself, was he finally trying to hook up with you?

“I want to try it.”

Did you hear him correctly? He wanted to get high with you?

You laughed before answering, “Are you saying you wanna get high with me Tomioka?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said isn’t it?”

“O-Okay..I’ll drop by in the morning then?”

“Alright, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You hung up the phone and stared at your call log for a moment to process what just happened.

“So are you two gonna fuck or what?” Sanemi said from behind you.

You jumped at his sudden appearance, gaining a laugh form him.

“Maybe, if he makes a move.” You say.

“Awe he’d get to sleep with you before me.” Sanemi smirked.

“Yeah like i’d become one of your hoes.” You giggle, knowing if he ever tried something with you you’d definitely fold.

“We’ll see.” Sanemi said as he followed you back to his room.

Tengen had woken up to and was already playing on Sanemis playstation.

“Dude who said you could get on my game?” Sanemi said snatching the controller from Tengen.

“NO! Bro you just cost me the game.”

“Fortnite? That game died in like 2018.” You say plopping down on the edge of the bed.

“Go suck a dick (y/n).” Tengen said chucking a pillow at you.

“Bet, im going to Tomiokas in a couple of hours anyways.” You say sticking your tongue out.

“Deadass? I would’ve thought you were gonna hook up with Sanemi eventually, or even me, considering I pull all the ladies.” Tengen said flexing his muscles.

You scoffed and laid your head down to fall back asleep, it was around 3AM and you needed the rest.

Hours later you were woken up with a slap to the back of your head, and a plate being placed in front of you. The plate had pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Your favorite breakfast.

“Thanks I guess.” You smile bringing the plate to the kitchen.

“You better like it, I put hard work into those pancakes.” Sanemi said.

You scoffed and dug into your food, finishing it in seconds.

“Fucking fatass, you couldn’t wait for me and Tengen?” Sanemi said looking at you as if you had just killed someone.

“Um I have to go back to my place and get ready, obviously i’m gonna rush and eat my food.” You say placing your dish into the sink. “Tengen, let’s go.”

“Um hello?” Sanemi said raising his eyebrow.

“What? He’s just going to drop me off and go wherever he decides afterwards.” You say. “Here, something that’ll keep your mind occupied.”

You handed Sanemi a pen with a full cart, he gladly took it with a bright smile.

“I’ll text you later, see ya.” You say waving your friend goodbye.

Tengen drove you back to your place and you said your goodbyes. You decided to take a shower to get the scent of weed off of you, even though you were going to smell like it later anyways. Putting on a long sleeve cropped shirt and some cargo pants, you put on some light makeup then blow dried your hair. You placed a pen and some roll ups into you pocket and headed towards your door.

I’ll be there in 10 - You 7:38AM

Alright, Do I need to do anything beforehand? - Tomioka 7:38AM

💀 - You 7:39AM

?? - Tomioka 7:39AM

You turned off your phone and grabbed your keys, since you’d only be at his house for the time being you decided to wear your unicorn slippers.

As you walked past Mitsuris room you caught a glimpse of Obanai on her bed snuggled next to her. Taking a trouble look you pulled out your phone and took a quick picture, sending it to her with a heart emoji.

You got in your car and played your favorite song on your way to Tomiokas place. You’d been there before so you remembered the way there.

Knocking on his apartment door, you heard some shuffling going on before he opened the door to let you in.

“What was up with your silly question?” You say walking passed him to sit down on his comfortable couch, something you always did when you came over.

“Well, i’ve never done it before so how would I know what to do?” Tomioka said closing the door then sitting down beside you.

“Actually let’s go to your room, it’s more relaxing in there.” You say heading towards his room.

You enjoyed his room more than your own, all of his led lights and decorations, not to mention his unbelievably comfortable bed. You could fall asleep in seconds when you laid down on it.

“What makes you wanna do it all of a sudden?” You ask pulling out the weed roll ups from your pocket.

“Just curious, I wanna know how it feels.”

You stared at him for a second before shrugging it off and placing one of the joints in your mouth.

“Well don’t just stand there, come over here.” You mumble as it was difficult to speak with something in your mouth.

You motioned for him to open his mouth, you placed a joint in his mouth and held yours against his as you held your lighter underneath. As the joints started to light you stared into his beautiful blue eyes before breaking eye contact and taking a hit, ghosting the smoke.

Tomioka began to cough as he tried to inhale, making you burst out laughing as puffs of smoke came out your mouth.

“How do you deal with the burning?” Tomioka said as he clenched his chest, holding the joint in his free hand.

“It’ll go away after a while, take your time.” You smile leaning back onto his pillows, watching as he inhaled his second hit without difficulty.

You thought to yourself he did that a bit to naturally.

“No way, and you’ve never smoked before?”

“I never said that.”

You blinked your eyes twice, “Wait a minute, You smoke?”

“Not regularly, but i’ve done it before. I’ve just never smoked straight weed.”

You began to giggle as you were on your fifth hit, weed starting to fill your system.

“I would’ve never guessed a straight A student like you would smoke.”

He shrugged his shoulders and took another hit, blowing a large cloud in your direction.

“Wanna watch a movie or something?” Tomioka suggested.

“Wait let’s finish that one series, Euphoria right?” You say reaching for his remote that laid on his nightstand.

“Yeah.”

You patted down on the empty space next to you as a signal for him to scooch up next to you.

You two watched a couple of episodes, both of your joints dying out as time progressed. Now laughing at any little thing that happened, you had never seen Tomioka smile so much, it made you happy that he was enjoying himself.

“We should do this more often, I love your smile.” You say.

You couldn’t tell if he was already heated from the weed but his face was definitely red.

“Thanks?”

The two of you stared at each other for a while, looking into each others eyes, flickering between each others lips and face.

Fuck it.

You leaned in and brought him into a quick kiss, pulling back his hand stopped you, faces inches apart.

“(Y/n), do you want to…?”

“Please.”

He smirked at you and smashed his lips on yours, your lips parted from the shock of his sudden action, gaining him access for his tongue to slip in. You snaked your arms around him and say yourself above his crotch. His hands started feel all around your body during your heated make out session, joints disregarded on his nightstand, luckily they were just about done anyways.

You broke the kiss as you lifted your arms to take your shirt off, his eyes immediately staring at your chest. His hands reached to unclasp your bra, feeling his cold hands against your body sent shivers down your spine.

Mind clouded with weed and lust you tossed your bra to the side and started to pepper his neck with kisses, sometimes leaving hickeys. Low groans escaped from Tomiokas lips which made you unbelievably wet, the sounds he made were so attractive you wanted more.

Your hands lifted his shirt, making him toss it to the side along with your top on the floor. Fingers tracing over his abs, you slowly scooted you body backwards so your hands could feel his erection that grew beneath you.

Pulling down his sweatpants your eyes darted to the large bulge appearing through his boxers. Looking up at him, you maintained eye contact as you slowly pulled down his pants, along with his boxers.

His cock sprung out, almost smacking you in the face. Precum slowly poured out form his tip, you licked form the base up to form slick to make it easy to pump his cock. He let out low moans as you pressed your lips against his erection, you smirked as you slowly teased him.

You felt a hand come to the back of your head, soon being shoved down, his cock hitting the back of your throat immediately. You let out a yelp which sent vibrations along his cock. He began to face fuck you, making it hard to breath as your were being forced to take him fully in your throat. It didn’t take long for him to cum, you felt warm shots of liquid hit the back of your throat, forcing you to swallow.

His grip let go of your hair as his head fell back, chest rising and falling form his release. He looked down at you and began to pull you upwards, bringing you into a kiss, this time a slow passionate one.

Tomioka flipped you over onto your back, him now towering over you. Something you dreamt of for years, it now finally becoming reality. His fingers latched onto your waistbands and pulled down your pants and underwear, disregarding them onto the floor.

“You’re so beautiful (y/n), I cant get enough of you.” Tomioka whispered as he placed kisses along your neck.

You shut your eyes to contain your excitement, your body was on cloud nine and you did not want to come off of it. His finger slid between your folds, gathering your slick. Feeling his middle finger rub against your clit sent you over the edge, letting out soft moans from each movement he made.

Looking into his lust filled eyes he looked unbelievably attractive, his hair messy, eyes half lidded with a slight red tint from the weed. It all felt so surreal to you.

He finally plunged two fingers into you, starting at a slow pace so you could adjust. Your back arched as his pace greatly increased, fingers curling at an angle that left you in shambles. Even it being your first time with him, he seemed to know all your weaknesses.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt your orgasm building up. His free hand pressed against your stomach to push your body back down, with one last pump of his fingers, your legs began to shake and curses fell from your lips.

He guided you through your high, his pace coming to a complete stop before pulling his finger out, leaving your hole clenched around nothing.

“Do you have a condom?”

Your mind was to hazy to reply, so you shook your head no. “it’s okay, i’m on the pill.”

“Oh really, so im not the only one you’ve been hooking up with? Don’t tell me you got with Sanemi.”

“What- No. I take them because of my period.” You say supporting yourself with your elbows.

“Good, he doesn’t deserve you.”

Tomioka suddenly gripped your thighs, pulling you towards him. You felt his tip press against your entrance before fully thrusting in, causing you to let out a loud moan.

You knew anytime you mentioned Sanemi around him he’d automatically get jealous. You were at his house? Left on read for an hour. Mentioning his name in a conversation? Ignored for the rest of the conversation. He hated the friendship you had with him.

“I’ll make sure he knows you’re mine.”

Tomioka dove down to attack your neck, biting and sucking aggressively. Pain and pleasure mixing together as his thrusts reached so deep inside of you. He filled you perfectly. He pulled back to observe his marking he left on you, smirking at his work.

His hands gripped your waist so tightly it was sure to leave bruises.

Moans of his name constantly fell from your lips from each snap of his hips.

“Yes..it’s a shame he isn’t here to hear the way you’re moaning my name.”

A grin formed on his face as he watched your expressions change when he made sure to brush against your sweet spot. You felt his hand creep up to your body, slightly gripping your neck. You didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as you did.

His hips pounded into yours, tip relentlessly hitting your sweet spot that had you seeing stars. You wondered how he was so good at this, who had he done it with?

You clamped down around him, making him grunt at how tight it began to feel inside you.

“Fuck..you’re so tight, are you close?”

You nodded your head.

He pressed his thumb against your clit to help you reach your orgasm, in seconds you were shaking as you came from an intense orgasm. His thrusts didn’t stop, as he was chasing his own high, causing overstimulation.

“Tomioka!” You moan out clenching his arms.

Low moans fell from his lips as he pulled out, pumping his cock as white shots of his warm cum shot onto your stomach. His head leaned back as he moaned your name.

You felt your release drip down your legs, which made you uncomfortable at the feeling.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Tomioka said carrying your bridal style to his bathroom.

What you thought was going to be an innocent shower turned out to be a second round. Your legs couldn’t hold up anymore and you started to stumble as you stepped out the shower. You heard Tomioka chuckled from behind you as he helped you to your feet.

“Not funny.” You say rolling your eyes as you threw on one of his large hoodies.

“You’re right, we really should do this more often.” Tomioka said pressing a kiss to your forehead.

————————————————————————————

😋 tomiokas so fine bruh, and sanemi and tengen 💀 3 man but my friends don’t exist 😱⁉️

also sorry for spelling errors, there was no way I was going to read over this shit to fix them

#giyuu smut #tomioka smut #giyuu tomioka #kny sanemi #demon slayer #romance #college au #shinobu kocho #tengen uzui #weedhumor #getting drunk #getting high

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monpalace · 8 months

Text

ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, (linked universe) time/reader.

content .. it's only natural you search for your nephew after he enters the lost woods on a dare. you can't have a problem with the hand dealt to you when the beast who gives you shelter is so kind.

warnings .. no beta, we die like the promise i made to finish this before the summer after my junior year ended (i started this in april, it's august). i didn't know where i was going with this after a certain point and i think that's obvious. reader uses she/her pronouns. large, legal age gap (reader is in her 30's - 40's, time is a few hundred years old). less of a fic and more snippets, but it's almost 7.5k+ words. i don't think i explicitly say which link it is, so i guess it's ambiguous? nephew is named because this would be a pain to write otherwise.

notes .. prompted (not inspired!!) by beauty and the beast, but also the batb fanfic i found after my friend showed my an nsfw ao3 tag account on twitter. beelzebub / lord of the flies from fear and hunger was a huge inspo for link / time's physical description but there is leeway for how he can be envisioned. he's still large as shit though lmao. the layout of the manor was this, only because i wouldn't be able to write this without knowing.

supposedly there's gonna be a second part. supposedly.

idk. i might hate this enough to just. not.

The Lost Woods wasn't as intimidating as everyone talked it up to be.

Yes, it felt like the trees moved when you turned your back to them, and, granted, there were a few mobs of monsters that could get the jump on you if you weren't paying attention, but you had managed to get away with a few scrapes the few times it had happened.

The only thing to keep you company was the howling winds that grew in intensity and your own thoughts that were sprawling into whatever corners they could reach, but that was fine. You'd gratefully take decades-old gossip from the next town over instead of the creeping paranoia of what was behind you.

Of course, you would willingly go through this, that, and whatever else one thousand times over if it meant finding your nephew— and to keep yourself from reprimanding yourself from reprimanding the teens that had dared him out into the woods, but that was another thing.

Along your investigation, you'd found a broken trail of breadcrumbs that led to nothing when you followed them. They were torn pieces of fabric from his clothes, just big enough to be noticeable but small enough to keep himself protected from the elements.

(You'll forever be thankful that a younger your drilled the idea into his head.)

You'd long since discovered calling his name was useless. The only thing you've managed to do was draw the attention of a few wandering stalfos dressed in clothes from centuries ago.

The ones that had managed to find weapons were always the most painful to deal with.

If your determination weren't so established, you would've lost your sanity within the first day.

Food and water were no issue, you were smart enough to pack more than a week's worth of both. There were non-perishable options and several choices for your nephew when you found him; he'd no doubt have his fair share of cravings after being lost for so long.

(Three days was an eternity to you.)

Just before the sun had reached its crest in the sky, you'd realized that there were more empty clearings than trees. Wildlife had become scarce as well.

Where deers and wolves previously ran abundant, birds and squirrels that ran from the smallest of noises replaced them.

The wind had calmed, at least. It no longer wanted to push and shove you in whatever direction it pleased or steal the bag full of items you brought along. You didn't have to hug your sweater to your chest in fear of it being ripped from your arms either.

Instead, it was still.

Admittedly, the clearing gives you more paranoia than anything else.

When your mind starts to wander to places you'd rather it not reach, you begin to hum a quiet tune to yourself— your nephew's favorite— and allow it to ground you.

You were here for a reason. You wouldn't leave until you found him. You'll be fine until you find him, and you'll find some way to live in the forest that refuses to let its inhabitants go peacefully.

It's hours later when you hear the first sound of life (or suspended death) that doesn't feel like a threat— though, in hindsight, you should've been smarter and more suspicious of it when you first heard it.

A high-pitched instrument repeats each croon you let out, eventually taking over and silencing you. You follow the tune without much of a thought. If it were some sort of elaborate trap to lure you in, you couldn't be mad at yourself if you fell for it.

Clusters of trees become less and less as you follow the instrument and its recreation of your nephew's song. You call his name and are met with nothing but the music (from an ocarina, you quickly recognize) growing louder as time passes.

To say you're shocked when a large and, admittedly, well-kept manor enters your field of view would be an understatement. It's covered in vines, invasive arrowroots, and spreading flowers, but looks lived in if the smoldering smoke slowly dissipating in the afternoon air was anything to go by.

You couldn't begin to imagine who lived inside before the woods took it over (or what lived in it now). The architecture says it predates the Hero split in four, but you doubted the inhabitants of the floating sky built something so elaborate when they returned to the surface.

Your eyes jump past the crumbling pillars and dilapidated statues to the half-glass double doors that seemed to open on their own.

The music was coming from inside the manor now.

Steeling your nerves and squaring your shoulders, your hand grips tight on the strap of your satchel as you walk up the stone stairs covered in moss. You have to hold onto the guardrail installed next to it just as tight. Looking down, you find the carvings of it sorely separating it from the older antiquity of the manor.

Taking in smaller details (for future escapes or weapons against whatever lived inside, you'd figure out later), you find that the small pools of water that came from the sides of the manor and ran and fell alongside the stairs you climbed held small clumps of straw-colored fur. Some caused the surrounding water to turn into a pink hue that reminded you of fairies you've seen in childrens' books.

(Your hand reaches into the satchel to make sure you brought all of your nephew's well-loved books as well as a novel or two for yourself.)

(You did, thankfully.)

There's a smell filled with musk that permeates the air the closer you get to the manor, thick with amber and ginger and it reminds you of the times you come across a pack of wolves during your childhood.

Upon entering the manor, you find it was strongest in the wing of the manor to your right. It took over almost the entirety of your senses, but it wasn't an unwelcome or overwhelming sensation. If you paid close enough attention, you could sense the homely feeling underneath the ferality of it.

You prayed you'd be able to tell when the beast returned; if it was gone in the first place.

You take close note of how the foyer wasn't truly a foyer with how it was filled with windows rather than walls that led to a courtyard and how the only way to enter the wings of the manor was the winded stairs that connected via the terrace.

You don't fail to notice how the wing coated in the musky scent is coated entirely in shadows despite all the sources of light.

You couldn't decide if you were thankful or filled with loathing at the idea of what roamed on that side of the manor.

It's a struggle to turn your eyes away from the darkened wing of the manor, but you do manage when the music picks up once more from the left wing. It's significantly brighter and doesn't fill you with a sense of dread as the right one does.

Trap be damned, your nephew was here, you knew it— you felt it.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you find that you're inside a parlor room that leads to three other pathways. One was a library, another was a dining room, and the last was a small hallway.

In any other situation, you'd explore some more. The supposed beast that possibly lived in the manor kept everything in better shape than what you'd expect— or hopefully it was the forest spirits that lived throughout the forest.

Hopefully, those same spirits kept your nephew safe.

You have to close your eyes to better determine where the music is coming from, the only thing you can hear beside it and your own breathing being the manor settling. Your ears guide you inside the hall and you find it branches into a corridor, a bathroom, and two bedrooms.

Common sense seems to leave you when you spot the back of your nephew's head. Your breath quickens as you watch him clap along with the ocarina, you force your eyes to keep their clarity when you hear him hum each note just as you remember.

"''ire," you call in a weaker voice than you intended or thought you had. The nickname he claimed he hated so much tumbled from your lips so easily as you rushed inside the room, one arm rushing to remove your satchel while the other reached out to almost check if he was real.

The Lost Woods were known for their tricks, after all.

When he turns to face you, he's scrambling over himself in the bed. You're able to see how he limps on his right ankle and knee, how the entirety of his limbs were wrapped in bandage wrap as though done by a child. There was no blood, so you hold off on checking him over.

(The bandages were stained, thankfully not with blood. It was mostly dust and grime.)

(You'd have to sanitize whatever was wrong.)

You meet him more than halfway when you catch the way he winces and hisses with each movement.

"Auntie— Auntie— Titi!" His voice is airy as he speaks, emotion causing his words to come out as chokes. His arms reciprocated the tight hug you had on him, forcibly keeping his arms from trembling due to either nerves or injuries. "Titi, Titi, Titi!"

The way he says the word makes him sound like some chittering bug. If you listened hard enough, you could tell how his teeth clattered together, but you couldn't decipher if it was from a chill or emotion.

All you wanted to do was keep his head against the crook of your shoulder and neck while you pressed kisses to the crown of his head and kept him as close to you as you could, but you knew better.

Pulling away, you reach back for the satchel that you previously discarded. "What's wrong? What happened?" You force your voice to even out when you speak, hands already reaching for his arms after you sit the bag against your hip.

He shakes his head, but you've known him long enough to know there was something wrong. "They're from when I first went in the forest," he answers, voice quivering. "It's all healed. I think."

He doesn't push your hands away or pull his arms back when you skillfully unravel the bandages, carefully pulling and prodding the scars that littered the skin, and he was telling the truth despite the coloring.

"Did you forage like I taught you? Why are most of them green?"

"The spirits."

"The spirits?"

"And the soldier." He looks over your shoulder as though searching for their figures. "I haven't seen him yet, though."

Your eyes squint as one of your hands rubs over the strange texture of the scar, the other reaching for the antiseptic and clean fabric in your bag. "Are these spirits children or small trees with masks?"

You'd heard of both in legend. No one's ever seen them.

You're not sure which you'd rather watch over your nephew.

His eyes drift to his side before peering back over your shoulder once again. His brows furrow as he thinks of how to answer, head tilting as his pupils dilate.

"Both," he answers, "and ones that look like scarecrows. I asked them to bring you."

You force your gaze to keep itself on your nephew. You wouldn't let it wander to spirits you couldn't even see. "The ocarina?" You instead ask another question jumping around your mind, sucking your tongue in appreciation when he nods. "Smart boy."

An airy laugh leaves him, his face lighting up with a smile. "Learned from the best," he snorts.

You risk pressing kisses to the apples of his cheeks and forehead at his flattery, hands cupping themselves on the nape of his neck to bring him closer.

A younger him would push you away without a second thought, whining on about how you were embarrassing him in front of his friends.

He lets you do so now regardless of the spirits that surround you both.

"What've you been eating?" Your hands drop to his biceps when you pull away. They weren't thin like you'd expect them to be after three days in the forest; they were fatter than they had been before he left. "Who's been feeding you?"

His answer of "the Soldier," is quicker than you would've liked. "He goes out and hunts. He always brings back meat. I think it's deer.. it tastes.. bland."

"He.. cooks it, right?"

Another laugh wracks through your nephew's body. He knows you're only being cautious, but he can't help it.

"All the way through," he hums, flexing his arms when they start feeling stiff. "I think I don't like it because it's not your cooking."

He knows what your response is going to be before he finishes speaking, years of having lived under your guidance making him attuned to the smallest of your movements.

When your expression shifts from being relieved to disappointment with a twitch of your eye, he can tell you're not pleased with his statement.

Dousing the fabric in the antiseptic, you take his arm in your hand and begin wiping it down. "Don't be rude." Your voice takes on a less-than-pleased rasp, speaking lowly as if you knew the Soldier was near; but you still apologize when the sting sets in. "Have you thanked him?"

(You're sure you would continue to speak quietly regardless of the context of the conversation. You didn't want to risk "the Soldier," doing anything unfavorable.)

(Your nephew's words of praise did little to ease your stressed heart.)

"I never know when he's here. He drops the food off while I'm asleep. He brings books and carvings too." He watches as you wrap his arm in another roll of (cleaner) bandages, undoing the old one on his other arm while you prepare another piece of fabric. "The Spirits say I'm the most excitement he's had in a while, so he doesn't mind."

His voice was beginning to grow hoarse from speaking so quietly. You tap his throat to tell him to relax.

"They say he's nice," he continues, doing as told. Tapping the fingers of his now free hand against your shin, he tries to recall what all they've told him.

"I think they said he used to live in another part of the woods when he was a kid?—" His eyes glance back over your shoulder, suddenly becoming sure of himself. "— Ah. They did. They said he left and came back when he was older."

You raise a brow but don't speak your question.

Your nephew takes hold of your retreating hands in both of his.

A clatter and snippy huff outside the bedroom door rouses you from your light sleep.

Nearing a week into your stay at the manor, you'd think you'd be more accustomed to the noise, but you aren't.

You carefully remove your nephew's head from your arm, using even more caution when trying to remove the conjoined weight of several spirits from your legs as you slip out of the bed.

It's hard, but you manage to do so without waking any of them— you hope.

(You still couldn't see any of the Spirits, but over time you could feel when they crowded around you and when the wind moved as they rushed past you.)

The floorboards creak beneath your feet.

You hear the sound of claws scratching against the floor on the other side of the door.

Pressing the crown of your head against the door, you tap your fingers along the handle to give the Soldier a warning and wait a few moments.

If you listened hard enough, you swear you could hear him scurrying into one of the other rooms before he shut the door behind him.

It reminded you of a dog.

Smiling to yourself, you're careful opening the door, keeping your head to it and your eyes on the floor. You turn to the other side of it to close it, waiting for the click of the lockset to speak.

"Are you decent?"

His confused "huh," sounds more akin to a gasp than any other noise.

You rap your fingers against the handle again. "Can I look up?"

"Oh—" he sounds choked. "Yeah— Yes. Yes. You can. Sorry."

"Thank you," you hum, leaning down to pick up the tray of food. It consisted of almost entirely meat with a few vegetables you figure are exclusive to the woods. "For both the food and taking care of my nephew."

There was a thumping noise behind the door, the frequency of it was like a tail beating excitedly.

The Soldier lets out a croaking noise and you know his mouth started moving before his mind was able to catch up. "No, I should thank you for looking for him— and for telling him not to use his name."

You let out an airy laugh. "It's common knowledge where I'm from. I wouldn't be a good parental figure if I didn't."

Another noise leaves the Soldier as you fix yourself to open the door. You can't discern what this one means. "I don't know when they started calling me the Soldier, but it's not— uhm.. A favorite.. of mine."

"Oh?"

"Soldier," he sounds more confident in himself and you don't have the heart to tell him you heard him the first time, "it's a nickname. I don't know where the kids got it, but I don't like it."

Readjusting the tray to rest against your hip and forearm rather than in both your hands, you hum curiously. "So what should we be calling you?"

He pauses longer than you'd think it'd take to remember your own name, but you wait.

"Link."

"Link?"

"Yes."

"Like in a chain?"

".. Yes."

You nod even though you're sure he can't see you. "I'll be sure to tell 'ire."

"Thank you." There's more thumping from behind the door.

"And thank you."

There's another noise from Link you struggle to understand, but you figure it's because he starves for conversation. "I heard what your nephew said about the food, too. I'll try to find something to flavor it with next time I'm out."

"Thank you," you repeat. Your eyes curve with your smile. "He'll greatly appreciate it."

Link raps his fingers against the door in response, but he doesn't say anything. You take that as your queue to reenter the bedroom.

"How come your side of the house is always dark?"

You gently pinch your nephew's elbow and he swats your hand away, leaning impossibly close to the door that separates him and Link.

There are a few moments of silence from the man that 'ire filled with bated breath. Link takes an audible, steadying breath before knocking what you think is his nail against the door.

"I wouldn't want to scare you both off."

It was an answer you expected, but you were disappointed nonetheless.

"Boo," your nephew groans. You're sure Link could hear the pout in his voice if the quiet chuckle he lets out was anything to go by. "You can't be worse than what I've seen out there."

There's genuine intrigue in the noise Link lets out. "Oh? What exactly have you seen then?"

Pure excitement fills your nephew's expression when he turns to look at you from over his shoulder. His fingers tap against the floor restlessly, tongue already listing off whatever monsters he's encountered (read: come up with) in his twelve years of life.

"— but their teeth are the worst! They're poisonous and there isn't a cure for it!"

You have no clue as to what creature he was talking of now. There were at least fifteen of them who injected poison through their teeth, eight of which had no cure.

(You don't have to strain as hard to see the Spirits as you did two weeks ago. The shadows and light shift around then as they move to sit around your nephew, seemingly hooked on your nephew's every word.)

(You remember when he would crowd himself around you similarly whenever you would tell him a story.)

You close the book that sat in your lap more for decoration than entertainment at that point and place a hand over your heart.

"I drew a lot of them too! My aunt brought them with her!" He pushes himself through the motions of standing up before immediately stopping and returning to his seat in front of the door. "I'll show them to you if you eat dinner with us!"

There are a few stammering noises from the other side of the door and yet you can't bring yourself to apologize for your nephew's bargaining.

Your own curiosity was quickly starting to get the better of you against your wishes.

The noise he had made several nights before makes itself heard again. His claws (you discovered those a few nights ago) scratch against the wooden flooring as he moves to sit against the other wall rather than the door, his voice moving with him.

"I don't want to— I wouldn't want— want to disturb you— either of you." His words are muffled by the door and his growing quietness, a regretful lilt stuck in his throat. "But thank you for the offer."

If he truly didn't want to join you and your nephew (and the spirits) for dinner, he was terrible at showing it.

"I know I wouldn't mind," you hum, standing to put away the book. A loud thumping makes the floor vibrate and 'ire has to stifle a laugh. "I wouldn't mind picking up a pot and pan again either."

"No!" Link quickly apologizes for his tone after realizing his outburst. "You don't have to. I wouldn't be a good host if I made you do that."

"Are you scared I'll poison you?"

Your nephew's voice drops to a whisper he swears you won't be able to hear. "She can't. She's the best cook ever."

You're not sure how the two correlate, but you'd take thew compliment.

"She won't?" Link's voice drops to entertain your nephew despite his earlier convictions. It takes on a playful direction, fur rubbing against the wood-tiled floors in excitement (based on prior interactions). "You've never gotten sick? Not once?"

'ire begins to shake his head but quickly stops. "Only from eating too much— which you will do, by the way. Best cook around," he reiterates.

Link chuckles, tapping his fingers against the floor restlessly. It takes him a moment to come up with something to say and neither of you push him to hurry.

You were both too hooked on his every word to do so anyway.

"I'll.." He's shy for all the attention. You wonder when the last time he got so much focus on him outside of the spirits. ".. I'll be sure to think about your offer. Why don't you tell me about a few of your monsters so I have more of an incentive?"

Your nephew jumps on the opportunity while you think over the plethora of recipes in your mind.

It wasn't rare for one of the imps to accompany you outside when you went foraging.

You never strayed too far from the manor— the last time you had been dragged outside of the area you had designated for yourself (and your nephew) by the children, Link had to come and rescue to lot of you before the sun had gotten too low.

Suffice to say, it was a rather humbling experience.

Kneeling, squatting, or sitting on the ground had never been easy on your knees or back, but the grass below you had felt as though it were a pillow hailing from the Heavens itself.

Your body works on picking herbs from the ground before placing them in your bag repurposed for your (new) everyday tasks while your mind wanders elsewhere.

You're humming to yourself when a twig snapping breaks your focus.

It was a nice reminder that the imps hadn't, in fact, accompanied you that day.

Your head lifts to survey the surrounding woods. Your entire body was still, mimicking a deer caught on a hunting trip.

There was nothing immediately in your line of sight that could be seen as a threat, but you had lived a long enough life to know that wasn't enough reason to let your guard down.

You're slow to rise to your feet and your ears are strained as you listen for whatever had made the noise.

"I'm sorry!"

You can feel your body relax when you hear Link's voice call out from behind a tree. You sink back to your knees without much thought, clutching the fabric of your top to calm your battering heart.

You weren't sure what you were going to do if it were an actual danger anyway.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he continues. His arms move and you can see one drop against the side of a tree while the other tightens around the corpse of an animal. "You were so still, I wasn't sure if you were okay."

A quiet, breathless noise leaves you. You're not sure if he could hear it, but you can see his shoulders relax when you do. "You're— You're fine! I just.. didn't know that you'd be out and about at this time."

When the hand not occupied with that week's dinner (barely) lifts to grab ahold of a tree branch, you're shocked to just now find out how tall he is.

"It's not your fault. I didn't know you were out here," he grunts while gently tugging at the branch. "Are you alone?"

Your eyes drop to the flora that surrounds you to not feel so invasive. Your fingers rub against the blades of grass idly when a restless feeling overtakes you. "A few of the kids said they'd join me later, but I'm not too sure when that's supposed to be." A short, genuine laugh leaves you. "I wouldn't be surprised if they forgot."

Link lets out his own, quiet laughter that you can only clue together when you see the entire tree shake in your peripheral. "I wouldn't take it to heart. They say they'll join me in hunting all the time but never do."

"Have you ever given them a stern talking to? I've heard that usually works with spirits."

"They barely listen to me as is. I think you'd have more luck than me."

"Is that an offer?"

"Are you headed home now?"

A strange vice tightens around your heart at his wording while you look through your bag. "Mhm," you hum, standing now that your legs aren't like that of a newborn. "You'll have to remind me of the way, though."

"I can guide you," he hums in reply. "You just can't look back."

Turning your back to him, you're surprised you don't jump when a sharp claw gives a ghostly touch to the center of your back.

You're shocked that you disregard the urge to check over your shoulder every step back to the manor.

You were no stranger to 'ire's night terrors.

They'd gotten better over the past few years as he aged, but all that progress had been undone during the near month you'd been in the forest.

Wiping away the tears that had managed to slip out, you ignore the prickly and uncomfortable feeling that comes with keeping your lulling head up so you can watch him.

You'd done it a thousand times before and would do it one thousand and one more if it meant he felt better.

You don't miss how his grip on your arm tightens when you start humming his favorite song. Your hand trails up to his hairline, nails (claws?) tracing the paint on his face that refused to fade.

You'd spent so long trying to scrub them and the green marks off, you hadn't even realized his skin had started to pale into a sickly grey in patches while darkening into (what looked like) a necrotic black in others.

You didn't even want to think about the changes that had started coming to your body.

You were, however, thankful you weren't thinning into a stalfos.

"You're not as sneaky as you'd like to think."

"How'd you know?"

"I have a young nephew. You learn quickly."

A brief laugh leaves Link from behind the cracked door. Though you didn't face him, you could see the way his eyes illuminated the wall in front of you, even managed to catch on some of 'ire's face.

It was a pretty blue color.

You don't comment on it.

"What's wrong?" Your voice has a deep rasp to it, your hand continuing to stroke your nephew's face even after he begins to calm down.

He'd slowly begun dropping more and more barriers (physical and mental) when it came to communicating with you both, having taken up shadows in their stead. He had gotten more confident in conversation as well, stammering and stuttering less the longer your nephew forced him to talk.

It makes you wonder how long it'd take for him to finally make true on those dinner plans.

"I heard him," Link hums just as quietly, the glow of his eyes moving to instead look over the sleeping spirits that crowded themselves around the space not occupied on the bed. "I was worried. Do you want help with them?"

A soft laugh leaves you when one of the imps buries their head onto your calf as though it were a pillow. "They've been like this since we first got here. 'ire," you press a kiss to his forehead when he rouses, waiting for him to settle before speaking again, "says they like to cling."

"You don't mind?"

"He's not too far off from them nowadays."

"Does he miss anything?"

Laying on your back, you being 'ire's head to rest against your shoulder. Your gaze is finally able to see how he'd take up all of the doorway (and then some) through the crack of the door.

You'd be shocked he hadn't flinched away if it hadn't been for the way his hand reached out to clasp it.

The tips of his fingers reached well past the frame of the door, his claws further, and you could only imagine just how much space he was taking up in the small hallway.

You were confident he could fit five or six of you in his hand without trying.

Your eyes jump back to the three (possibly four?) eyes before he can become self-conscious.

"Almost everything," you answer after pulling yourself from your thoughts. "His clothes, his dolls.. He could go without his friends, though."

His eyes jump from your face to the window as he huffs out a nervous laugh. It makes you wonder if he knows something you don't, but you don't push. "And you?"

"Hmm?"

"And yourself," he clarifies, "what do you miss?"

You're silent.

What exactly did you miss?

The feeling of your village's grass between your toes after the rain, the baker's treats that no other could replicate, being a part of such a tight-knit community, the sun after a particularly muggy morning—

There wasn't any need to be a sap.

"I'm not sure," you finally say after a long period of silence. You hadn't realized your eyes had left Link, yet when you force your gaze back to him, he holds it without issue. "I struggled with becoming attached to things unlike 'ire."

"Hm."

"What?"

"I can't remember the last time someone said something like that."

"You have visitors like us often?"

"More than you'd think."

"And what's become of them?"

The glow of his eyes drops to the sleeping spirits that litter before looking to the window again and you quickly understand.

The hum that leaves your throat is more lackluster than you intended it to be, but given how quickly the topic had changed, you give yourself the grace.

"Well," you start after clearing your throat, "what's something that you miss?"

The manor creaks when Link leans against a wall and his confidence in the movement tells you more than you'd expected.

You don't think you'd ever have the same amount of trust he held in it.

There's a playful tone in his voice when he speaks, one of his hands raised to scratch against his chin. "You'd have to promise not to be dramatic when I say."

"Is it my fault you use such outdated terms thousands of years behind my time?"

Link turns away to stifle his laughter, shrouding the room in darkness and forcing your eyes to strain with it.

"I can't say I've had the easiest experience understanding you or your nephew's sayings," he hums, drowning you in the light of his eye when he turns back, "the kids have to keep filling me in."

"Shame, and here I thought you'd been closer to my age. Have you been leading me on this entire time?"

Link's claws knock against the wall, his tail wagging against the floor while he huffs his amusement. "Have I? When I don't even know your name?"

If the weight of 'ire wasn't on your shoulder, you're sure you would've had a physical reaction of some sort.

"It'd do you good to not forget it," he hums, the movement of his tail slowing until it stops entirely. "Titi and Auntie, as much as I hate to say it, won't do much good."

Another lackluster noise leaves you as the arm trapped underneath your nephew lifts to rub your thumb during his forehead. "How fun."

"The kids are too attached to do anything now." The door slowly creaks open before stopping. It shuts so there's only a crack instead. "You'll be fine to share your name now."

"You never answered my question."

"Which one?"

"I haven't asked a lot," you huff before taking a softer tone, eyes rolling closed. "What is it that you miss?"

Link quietly snorts, muffling it by pressing his face to the door. He takes a steadying breath before saying a quiet, "a lot, I suppose. I can't name just a few things." A low noise leaves him, it's similar to a growl. "My friends? Playing music as well— my hands aren't good for much but skewering these days. My horse, Epona, too. She was the prettiest mare."

"Is she red with a white mane?"

"You saw the kids' drawings?"

"I've seen her before, I think— or maybe it was a hallucination?" The hand stroking 'ire's forehead stops as you scrounge your memories. "When I saw her outside the forest, I knew it was real. Another fated hero was mounting her."

You'd like to think yourself a master of figuring out what each noise he makes is meant to mean, but the one Link lets out once you finish speaking is short and of a higher pitch than normal.

When he begins to stammer over his words as he had when you first interacted with him, it feels like years' worth of progress has been undone.

"I— uhm— You— I don't— err— Thank—"

His tail thumps three times before he knocks his head against the door with a heavy groan. He lets out a quiet "Hylia, be damned," you couldn't help but think he hoped you wouldn't hear to go along with his frustration.

"It's been a long night," you finally prompt. "You'd best get some shut-eye before 'ire bombards you with more from his imagination, yeah?"

"Yeah," Link answers in a weak voice. "Yeah," he repeats to himself more than anything, "of course. Good night," he steps away from the door. "Sleep well."

"Same for you."

The night Link finally takes you and 'ire up on your offer for dinner, your nephew and the spirits had taken to floating around the east wing's dining room to prepare it for such a grand event.

"Titi, titi!" One of the Kokiri exclaims, tugging at the fabric of your skirt (that Link had made out of a spare bedsheet). Her voice had a strange echo to it— all of them, really— and had given you migraines up until you'd finally become accustomed to it. "'ire says that you'll make your world-famous pudding! Will you? Will you?"

You ignore her exaggeration in favor of forcing yourself to wrench your eyes away unless you wanted her puppy dog face to work on you. "Should I? I.. I can't say any of you have been acting well enough to deserve it.."

Even in your peripheral, it's not hard to miss the absolutely crushed look on her face. Her eyes were wide and her bottom lip wobbling like she was about to cry despite your joking tone.

"But why—y," she whines, dragging the last syllable on while hiccuping on her breath as she went on. You know the tears pooling in her eyes are just as fake as your rejection of her request— but you know just as well who'll win the battle at the end of the day.

"I—" hiccup. "Want—" hiccup. "Cake—" hiccup.

You raise a brow. "Pudding or cake, sweetheart? I can't make both."

The girl begins to climb your back while you return to sautéing the vegetables, arms wrapping around your neck so she can press her cheek against yours. "Cake! No, pudding! No! Cake! No—"

"I'll tell you what," you interrupt, taking the pan from over the open flame once the food is charred to your liking. Your skin thanks you when you step away and douse the fire, the arid air leaving through the open window. "Why don't you ask a few of the others which they want then we can try and get Link to bake it after dinner?"

The girl jumps off your back with stars practically filling her eyes. She cries out for several names while she runs off, hands clapping excitedly as she shouts out the change in plans.

You're left in peace until your nephew enters with his journals clutched between his arms, bouncing between his feet while he watches you finish plating each food item on dishes you could only dream of owning where you're from.

"D'you think he'll come?" 'ire's voice is low, almost as though scared Link will hear. You know he does if the night of his nightmares a few months ago were anything to go by— but he didn't need to know that.

"He'd better," you answer in an equally low tone. "I didn't spend so long slaving away at this just for him not to."

"Is that a threat?"

The plates in your hands aren't spared by the flinch that wracks through your body. Your reflexes are quick to catch them before any of the food can hit the floor.

'ire, on the other hand, has no issue with voicing his shock in the form of a scream, scurrying from the doorway while dropping his journals. He jumps behind you, hands clutching the fabric of your skirt while he hides himself behind your hip.

"Well?"

Placing a hand over your racing heart after putting the plates down, your other hand comes down to rest on 'ire's head. "It's rude to sneak up on people, you know."

The blond fur of his chest rustles with his laughter. It was difficult to see much else other than that, what with the way he hid himself behind the wall connecting the kitchen to the pantry.

You hadn't even heard his footsteps or creaking floorboards when he first approached. Had he been there the entire time and 'ire hadn't seen him, or had he only walked in after 'ire entered?

You wondered if he was naturally quiet or if he just learned which floorboards were loose.

"Is it sneaking when you were expecting me?" Link's voice is lighter than it usually is, a slight tremble could even be heard if you focused on it enough. He rocks on his feet and briefly leans forward, a less organic-looking side profile coming into view before leaving right after. "If I knew I would be this unwelcomed, I—"

"That's a joke, right?" 'ire stomps away from your side while he speaks, stepping over his discarded compilations of works to stare up at Link with wide eyes. Your nephew ignores the way Link's hands raise to cover his face and how he backs away as soon as he pivots in his foot to face him. "You're not actually gonna pansy out, right?"

Your feet lead you to the two before you can have much of a thought. "Zaire," you say in a terse voice, taking hold of his shoulder and bringing him against your front so you can stop him from interrogating the poor man. "Don't be rude."

Whatever argument he has dies on his tongue when he takes a good, long look at Link. His mouth gaped open like a fish, one of his fingers lifting so he could push it into the fur of his stomach, watching the skin beneath sink with the force of it as though it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Woah."

If you had any less sense of dignity, you'd let yourself have the same reaction.

"Don't be rude," you reiterate, pushing Zaire's hand down until it finally reaches its rightful place at his side.

"No," Link breathes into his palms, clearing his voice to try and rid it of the anxiety (and, possibly, humiliation). "He's— he's fine. This wouldn't be the first time someone responded like that. I'd be more concerned if he did any other way."

Zaire shrugs your hands from your shoulders, stepping until he is toe-to-claw with Link. "Then why are you hiding your face? It can't be that bad," he says, tugging at the fur of Link's elbows, rubbing them between his fingers so he could better be accustomed to the texture.

Spreading his fingers enough so you both could see the four holes in the inorganic material, Link lets out another heavy breath. "I'm self-conscious," he can tell the answer doesn't please Zaire and continues speaking, "It's been.. too long.. since I've shown anyone either of my faces."

"A mask is.." Your voice falters off when you finally find the words to speak, losing them again when you fail to find a proper way to articulate your thoughts.

"It's mostly you and the kids, no?" You try again when you figure out a way to better word it. "Is a mask not.. Is it.. necessary?"

When the blue light that emits from his eyes lifts to look at you, an unidentifiable emotion shoots through you. He holds your gaze for a few, silent moments before turning his head and dropping his hands.

"It's like a second skin," he simply offers.

"Sad," Zaire sighs, backing away and turning until he stood in the center of the kitchen. "Can you still eat with it? Like I said, Auntie is the best cook in all the realms and you have to taste it to believe it."

Curse your nephew's skill of lightening a mood.

Rather than let his insecurities keep him from looking at either of you for the duration of the night, Link looks down at Zaire with a playful jolt of his shoulders. "It's not fused with my face."

Zaire's eyes curl into crescents while he grabs two of the plates from the counter. "Good!" His tail (a terrifying new addition when he first started changing) wraps around the third dish, walking himself past the two of you in the pantry so he could place each one on the dining table. "You'll love this then! Auntie," you don't miss the way he adds your name causally, "always makes this on a big day!"

Link repeats your name under his breath before doing the same with Zaire's. He lets out a thoughtful nod as each one rolls off his tongue, one pair of eyes looking at you while the other continues to follow your nephew.

He wrings his hands together when he catches the way you examined him oh-so-carefully, arms crossed with your head tilted.

"It's nice," he gulps as though every inch of nervousness had reentered his body. "It's a nice name. I like it. It suits you."

You don't know if you were teasing him prior, but you decide to do so now.

"I'd hope so." You pat a hand against his arm as you walk into the kitchen, ignoring the oily feel of his fur. You ignore the feeling of him watching and instead focus on searching through the cupboards for the drink you had foraged around to make just days before. "I could say the exact same for you, thankfully."

"Now, why don't you have a seat so I can play host this time?"

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alittletaste · 1 year

Text

REMEMBER WHEN

↳ The one where Harry and a very pregnant y/n have a “remember when” conversation before bed

Warnings: This contains smut so please be 18+ if you are going to read! This honestly has a bit of everything, from smut to fluff to Instagram/twitter concepts so I hope you enjoy. Please be kind and reblog 🫶

Y/n and Harry were resting up against the headboard, his hands on her growing bump, stroking it gently as Y/n rested her head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe we’re having a baby” she spoke, breaking the comfortable silence they found themselves in.

“I know, it’s mad ain’t it? Like we made a baby” Harry agrees, his fingers rubbing soothing circles onto her stomach as he leans down to kiss into his wife’s hair. He was so grateful for her sacrifice, for the fact that she was pregnant with their first bubba, doing everything she could possibly do to ensure they have a healthy baby by the end of it.

“Can’t believe we’ve been together for six years, we met when we were kids back on icarly” Y/n chuckles, reminiscing on the day one direction came to the set of icarly and filmed one of her most favourite episodes.

“Sounds like a lifetime ago, I was only eighteen” he says, “can’t believe we didn’t actually get together back then, could’ve wifed you up ages ago” Harry jokes making Y/n roll her eyes at her husband.

“Hey, you had six years still” she groans earning a soft chuckle from him in reply.

“I remember the first thing you ever said to me” Harry speaks after a moment of silence, looking down into his wife’s eyes as he says so.

“Oh yeah? What was it?”

“You came up to me and laughed in my face before saying ‘your zips undone’ d’you remember?” Harry laughs, recalling the moment he saw Y/n for the first time in person, it was one he could never forget.

“Shit, I did say that didnt I? You’ve literally not changed since then, I still constantly remind you to do up your zip” Y/n declares, shaking her head at her forgetful husband. There has been countless times where Harry’s forgotten to do up his zip after a quickie or after using the loo, meaning there’s countless amount of pictures of him out there online, with his zip undone.

“Remember that time in Oslo when all the fans were making fun of you for not having your zip done?” She questioned looking over at Harry who rolled his eyes at her question.

“How could I forget? I’m convinced you jinxed me that day, you practically wished for me to get embarrassed” he playfully argues making y/n giggle.

***

“Harry hurry the fuck up” someone spoke from outside the door of his dressing room. Harry ignored them as he thrusted into y/n faster, her hands grasping his back, trying to keep herself situated in the correct angle.

“Fuck” she whispered, throwing her head back against the wall as Harry buried his head into her neck, licking and sucking at her soft skin there. His hips continued the hard and fast movements, trying to get her off as his arms lifted her up higher so he can fuck up into her quicker trying to get them both to the finish line.

The friction of his pelvis against Y/ns body was enough to shoot pleasure up her body, causing her to moan a little too loudly. “Shh baby, they’re already onto us” Harry groans, his hands gripping Y/ns ass, squeezing every so often.

“then cum already” she lets out, panting at the feeling of being so close. Her eyes were squeezed shut as Harry continued to impale her with his hard cock.

“need you to cum first angel” he whispered, one of his fingers going to his mouth, he licks it and then guides it down to rub circles on y/ns pulsing clit making her tremble against him.

“y-you and your ego, fuck, m-gonna cum” she near screams, as she finally lets go, her warm walls tensing around Harry’s cock. Her release triggers his and not soon after, he’s cumming deep inside of her, his cock twitching with every thrust.

“Fuck” he growls, pulling out and taking deep breaths to come down. “That was good” he spoke and Y/n agreed, nodding her head slowly against him. She was still in another world, coming down from her incredible high. Harry kisses into her hair before lifting her up into his arms, bridal style, and taking her over to the couch. He gently rested her on there before going in for another kiss.

“I need to go before they send someone in here to kill me or yank me off you” he joked making her laugh.

“Yes shoo, get out of here. You’ve got a job to do mister” Y/n agrees, watching as Harry turns around, his back muscles flexing as he reaches down to grab his shirt, he pulls it over his head and onto his body before reaching for his pants. He puts them on as y/n continues to admire him.

“It’s rude to stare you know” he says, confidently, he knew y/n was staring even with his back turned to her and she rolls her eyes.

“You need to get your ego deflated” she says, wrapping the blanket, the gag gift Mitch gave her, it had Harry’s face plastered all over it, around herself as Harry walked to the door, blowing her a kiss.

“Whatever you say. I love you. I’ll see you after the show yeah?” He speaks, unlocking the door and walking out just as y/n replies back to him.

Sure enough, Harry’s ego deflated massively as he was called out by some fans onstage for having his zip undone for most of the show.

liked by yourinstagram, harryfan69 and 45,739 others

harryflorals “come on, couldn’t you guys tell me earlier! I know y/n is laughing at me, she always makes fun of me for forgetting to do my zip. She was actually hoping I got embarrassed today, so there you go, hope she’s happy now” - Harry tonight in Oslo, Norway

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harrysfan69 THIS IS SO FUNNY TO ME

↳ harrystylesfan3 IK, HOW DID HE JUST FORGET TO DO HIS ZIPPER 💀

y/nfan3 they were probably getting down and dirty back stage SKSKHAHAHAN

↳ fanofeveryone5 I don’t blame them, they’re so hot

yourinstagram I’m sure you all will be glad to hear that I did in fact make fun of him once he got back

↳ y/nfan6 LOL YOURE SO FUNNY

y/nfan98 bestie, y/n commented and liked!!!

***

“Remember when I proposed and the internet went crazy?” Harry asks his wife who was now cuddled up into his side, her bump resting on Harry’s side. He was slowly rubbing up and down her back, soothing her aching muscles, now he doesn’t know what it’s like being pregnant but from the looks of it, it was draining and so he tried making y/ns pregnancy go as smoothly as possible.

“God Twitter had a field day when it was announced” she replies back, sighing dramatically. “Still can’t believe we couldn’t announce it properly though, it was such a special moment”

“I’m upset over that too peach, it was our moment to share” Harry says, kissing into his wife’s hair as he inhaled the scent of her shampoo. “It’s ok though right? Look at us now, 8 months pregnant and not a single person that’s not family or friends know” Harry says, sounding super pleased in himself. Normally he could never keep secrets but he knew how important this was and wanted nothing but to protect his wife.

“Yeah, I can’t believe we managed to keep this a secret, I’m sure we’ll break the internet once the bubs gets out” she smiles, patting her belly and looking back up at Harry.

He’s smiling back down at her, nodding his head. “Hey Jude, you hear that? You’re going to break the internet” Harry speaks to her belly, earning a kick from the bundle of joy nestled inside of y/ns womb.

Harry chuckles, “he’s excited to break the internet ain’t he?”

“Just like his daddy” y/n hums, threading her fingers through Harry’s hair.

***

“Remember our honeymoon, the night we made this little one?” Y/n asked as she rubbed over her belly, Harry’s hand coming to join hers. He smiled, loving the fact that his little bubba was nestled all comfy in there.

“Could never forget that day peach, the one time you forget your birth control and we’re blessed with the most precious gift ever” Harry says as he pulls Y/n closer towards him, his hand goes to play with her hair as he leans down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“It truly just takes the one time huh?” She giggles making Harry chuckle against her, she could feel the deep rumble of his laugh in his chest and it made her smile. She hoped the baby had Harry’s dimples, they looked particularly good everytime he laughed.

“Guess so peach” he confirms. “I remember the day we found out, you had been throwing up for a while and I had to basically force you to take the test” he says, the fond memory replying in his head.

“You know I hate being wrong, especially when it comes to you” Y/n sasses making Harry sigh.

“God, what did I get myself into? If this kid comes out bullying me, we all know who’s fault that would be” He argues playfully making y/n hit at his sturdy chest playfully.

“Hey, you know I don’t bully you babe, it’s all playful banter” she says, and Harry smirks.

“I know peach, only joking with you”

***

It was Harry’s first day back at the studio after coming back from his splendid 2 week honeymoon at the Amalfi Coast. He enjoyed the hot summer weather and the incredible views alongside the hot and passionate sex him and y/n had, time no longer being a restriction as this holiday was to celebrate their love and their love only.

He was a bit relentless about returning back to work, worried to leave his poorly missus at home alone. They had been back for a week and within that week, y/n had quite literally been bed ridden. Feeling fatigued, which they at first thought was from jet lag but quickly dismissed that when she started throwing up, causing them to believe it was because of some food poisoning. However, if Harry was being honest, he thought it was because of something else, because of a little someone cooking in his wife’s belly.

(Harry and Y/n 2019 text messages)

Harry: you feeling any better, peach? x

Y/n: Still the same, threw up again which was nice 🥲

Harry: I think we should go to the doctor, it could be anything. It’s been a week my love

Y/n: I know, but it’s probably just food poising, we did eat a lot of rubbish

Harry: I know that baby, but it might not be that. It could be something else

Y/n: Like what Harry?

Harry: I think you might be pregnant

Y/n: lol, don’t be ridiculous 😂

Harry: no, I’m being dead serious. Remember that day you forgot your birth control?

Y/n: yeah but I took it after.

Harry: after we had sex about a billion times, I don’t think that’s how birth control works love

Y/n: ok ok, I get it.

Harry: so, I’m coming back rn. I’ll stop by at the drugstore and grab a test, do you have any at home?

Y/n: no we don’t, make sure not to get caught. I can’t deal with the world knowing just yet, plus I might not even be pregnant

Harry: ok baby, I’m coming soon. Love you x

Y/n: Love you too, drive safe xx

Luckily for Harry, the drugstore local to them was run by an old couple, most likely unaware of him and his wife so he quickly grabbed a few pregnancy tests, making sure to get digital ones so it’s easier to find out if his wife was pregnant or not.

It only took another 5 minutes before he was unlocking his front door, hanging his coat up on the hook in the hallway and throwing his keys into the bowl before making his way up and into his bedroom.

He slowly opened the door to see y/n laying in bed, practically drowning in the duvet and blankets Harry had pulled out for her a few days earlier. “Hey peach” he spoke, walking into the room and throwing the bag full of pregnancy tests on the bedside table as he took a seat next to Y/ns head, his hands came to gently run through her hair before he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“I got the tests” he spoke into the quiet room, waiting for y/n to talk or atleast move.

“Urgh, this is the only position where my boobs don’t hurt so please don’t move” she mumbled from beneath the duvet making Harry chuckle quietly.

“Another reason to believe that you’re pregnant” he says making y/n groan.

“If this means I’m pregnant, then you’re in for a long 9 months” she says and Harry’s laughs.

“There’s no one else I rather be in this situation with” he says truthfully, leaning down to kiss into his loves hair, smiling at the thought of being a new life into the world with the woman he loves most.

And that’s exactly what was happening, once y/n was ready to take the test, it was no surprise to smug and overjoyed Harry when it came back positive.

***

“I can’t wait to make more memories with you peach” Harry cuddles into his wife, pulling the duvet over them before reaching over to turn the lamp off.

“This is all so exciting, in a few months we’ll be in this very bed cuddling with a mini you” Y/n smiles fondly, a sense of contentment filling the room.

“I’m honestly so excited, I’m having a baby with the love of my life. I don’t think life can get any better than this” he says, kissing his wife with pure love. “Thank you”

“For what angel?”

“For making my dreams come true, always wanted to be a dad. And now I’m doing that with my person, I love you”

“I love you too”

#harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #dad!harry styles

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yanderefictinallove · 2 months

Text

I̸ M̸a̸d̸e̸ A̸ D̸e̸a̸l̸, B̸u̸t̸ N̸o̸t̸ W̸i̸t̸h̸ T̸h̸e̸ D̸e̸v̸i̸l̸

Alastor x Reader

She wanted to be a star,she said that years ago. She loved to imagine it, to think it. But no one told her it would be a hassle to be an entertainer. She was lucky.

Luckey, enough to get this gig at a bar. It was pretty old and was said to be around for centuries, but money was money, and not everyone has the funds to just pay to be famous.

As she was in the backstage room, she was getting herself pretty for the stage, as she looked in the mirror to admire her [h/l] and [h/t] hair, her gorgeous eyes and soft skin, she was perfect and she knew that.

"10 minutes till spotlight," said the manager of the bar. She was a nice old woman, with long beautiful hair. It flowed, she was pretty young looking for her age and she was the sweetest thing ever.

"Thank you, ma'am." I responded, and she smiled and left the room, I opened my purse to see my picture of my gorgeous dog, Daisy. She was a beautiful white pitbull, she was my best friend, and even though she was a dog, she was my best friend. I love her, and I want her to be proud of me.

"Hey babe." Said a familiar voice that broke ne from my thoughts. "Hey, babe." I resopned, it was my best friend since diapers, Travis. "I just came to wish you luck, and you look sadder than a miserable husband. What's wrong?" Damn it. He was able to read me. What else did I expect, though? travis always has his shit together, I'm the train wreak. Well, I'm a cute train wreak anyway...

Before I could answer, it was time for me to get on stage. I stood up, and Travis went to go sit down. As I made my way to the stage, fear and excitement rushed through me as I walked on stage. I heard applause, as the band started I started to sing, but there was a problem.

The corners of the room are looking at me. The gaze hurts, and it burns. It's so blank that it scares me. it's smileing at me, its getting very close in here....

....

...

"5 minutes till spotlight"....what? I looked around I was still backstage, holding my purse, I looked up and the manager was there, she looked concerned and left me to be alone without a word. I got up, put ny purse back, and started to go backstage, as I was walking I got a random drive of determination just pop up out of nowhere, I'm gonna use it.

As I walked on stage and I heard applause, I started singing and while u was singing my heart out I noticed something...no, Actually...someone. In the corner. A gentleman, he was fair skinned and what caught my eye is what he was wearing, he was dressed buissness casual. And he wore a smile on his face...ok....fucking creep.

He keeps stareing, and not like in amazement like everyone else in here....it has an intent behind it. I feel uneasy. As I finish my songs I see applause, it feels great, fucking euphoric...but I need to leave, mr. "Lemme stare bitches right into their souls" is fixated on me, we keep making eye contact.

I quickly gather my stuff, tell the owner goodbye, and leave. As I walked to my car, I hurried to unlock it. Once I got in, I felt a little safer. I can breathe. As I started my drive home, I kept seeing a deer, I turned the radio on, it was nothing but buzzing and I had to tune it, some old county song was playing till it abruptly stopped.

"So what was it you seen?" A man said

"(Crying) it was a monster. It had horns , sharp teeth, deer head, oh lord, help me (cries harder). " A woman replies. What happened to the music?

"That ma'am was a wendigo." When the man said that my skin felt weird, out of place. I tried to tune it off but nothing worked.

"Wendigos are hellishly tall."[Tune]

"They crave human flesh."[Tune]

"If you see them, run, or you will crave human flesh."[Tune]

I finally turned it off, I was home anyway. As I pulled up to the apartments, I started to smell something. It was foul, gross, and smelled bloody and metallic. Problibly a dead animal. I parked my car and hopped out. As I was walking toward the lobby, I could still smell the stink. It was 10:15pm, and the reception for the lobby was closed. Now, only residents can get in. I go in the elevator and see the beautiful glowing button, I click the 2nd floor, and I go up. As I was waiting, it felt as if it was going forever. The light can barely stay on.

It's shaking, holy shit, it's shaking. I'm gonna die. This is it. As the elevator was trying not to fail too much. I was crying...I atleast wanna tell Daisy bye..*ding* What..

I opened my eyes to see the elevator, it was still.. and looked brand new and up to date... no flickering light or nothing...

I walked to my apartment and unlocked the door again. As I opened it, I was greeted by my little angle. She wagged her tail and smiled.. This is my reason for living. I locked the door and started to undress for my shower. As I got in, i ravished in the amazingly perfect warm water. It usually needed constant adjustment before it was perfect. As I washed myself, Daisy started to bark. She probably is just hungry, I finished up and stepped out. Ok, she is still barking.

As I ran to her, she stopped barking and started to wag her tail.

"What-What a show, I was quite impressed." I snapped my body around. It was the man from the bar, the one that was in the corner, smiling.

I ran to grab my phone off the counter.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you~" he said

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!"

"I'm the person who can give you everything you ask for. Now fix this silliness or you will miss it."

"Miss, what?"

"Your once in a lifetime opportunity!!"

He smiled even harder than before. He looked at me and held his hand out for me to shake. I need to remain calm. I pushed his hand away and started to ask him questions, such as like 'how did you get in my house' or ' what do you want from me?' He skipped the first one.

"I'm here because i've scented your need for the big lights, and I wanted to help your little predicament, with, of course, a price to pay."

"So you came here for money?"

"Heavens no, I came here to watch your rise, and in return, I want a favor. I have the solution right here. You just have to take it, my dear!"

He pulled a paper out of his pocket, and at the top, it talked about personal management and was signed by AL.

Right below, it was blank space for a signature. I looked at it, and there was no intention to sign it. Why is my arm moving? It's moving toward the pen attached to the paper, and the man had a sadistic smile on his face... and Daisy is quiet.

I looked, and she was shaking in her spot... My baby, her eyes were asking, "What are you doing?"...I don't know, I'm sorry Daisy.

As my arm signed the form for me, that man smiled more. He snapped his fingers, and it disappeared.

"Alastor, quite a pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure. You will be entertaining me for a long, long time."

I woke up in a cold sweat....

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

It's been years and I still simp for this man

Oh well...

Request: Open

#hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 10 months

Note

hii! could i get a thatcher Davis x fem!reader (fluff + angst), where she's his new work partner (say he isn't presumed dead and went back to work) who wants to support him and comfort him while he opens up too her, they get closer and end up together within a few months as a couple and the WHOLE station is aware 😭

Awh yeah,,,,Gotta give this man love and support through all the Horrors(tm)

...............

"What? They're assigning her to me?"

"I really don't see why it's a problem, Davis..considering you forwarded her application. She's just as interested in investigating the Alternate threat as you are, so they figured you two could work together on-"

"But I thought I made it pretty clear that I wanted to work on future cases solo. Because the last time I had a partner-"

"Look, I understand losing Weaver was painful..but that was 17 years ago. And the higher-ups are getting worried about you taking on all these cases by yourself, especially with your extended leave and the close calls you've had with those things."

"...so they think I need a goddamn babysitter?"

"There's no need for hostilities, Davis."

"Sorry, captain. I mean no disrespect, but..do you all really trust me after what happened? I mean...I just don't wanna see one more person suffer for my mistakes, especially not some rookie.." Thatcher mumbled the last part under his breath, averting his gaze from his superior.

He heard them sigh, although their tone became more sympathetic as they spoke once more.

"You're all we got now, lieutenant, and I trust you're not gonna repeat the past. Think of this as your shot at redemption. This town's lost all hope in us, but I think [l/n] can help restore some of that morale with your guidance. All I ask is that you don't scare her into quitting before she finishes her first day, alright?"

Although silent, Thatcher nodded his head in understanding, and the police captain seemed satisfied with that answer. So they walked out to call you into the office, telling him to wait a few minutes.

The moment the door was closed, he slumped back into the chair, growing increasingly aggravated as he tapped his foot against the floor.

His hands were practically itching for a cigarette right now...or a drink.

Anything to distract him from the conflicting thoughts running through his mind.

It felt like Ruth had only been taken from him yesterday. He remembers how much he cried and forced himself to grieve alone, burdened with the knowledge that he couldn't tell the department the real story of that night--of how he basically left her to die.

Of course, a memorial service was held for her. But it didn't feel like a satisfactory goodbye.

It was far from that.

So for the higher-ups to suddenly decide he needed a "replacement" felt like a punch to the gut. It's like they didn't trust him anymore.

But he then recalled reviewing your application file on his computer, seeing that you indeed showed a lot of promise:

[F/n] [L/n]--a confident and kindhearted woman around his age who studied criminology in college, passed all of her training with flying colors, taught a self-defense class in her free time, and has a decade's worth of experience in security.

You had a good heart and described yourself as "headstrong" in your personality description.

"Sound familiar?"

Hearing the distorted voice, he snapped his head towards the shadow in the corner of the room, every muscle in his body suddenly tensing.

For a split second he thought he saw the whites of somebody's eyes...

His eyes-

"Lieutenant Davis, meet Officer [L/n]."

Thatcher blinked, coming back to reality as he realized the captain had returned, stepping aside to introduce you to him.

He awkwardly cleared his throat and stood up, shaking your hand in greeting.

You politely reciprocated the welcome, although you were initially surprised by his bleached hair and facial piercings. If you were at any other police station, you would've thought he was violating the dress code.

But then again, with the Alternates running amuck it was probably best for him to look highly distinguishable from the average person (and as far as you're aware, they aren't clever enough to perfectly mimic piercings or tattoos).

Nevertheless, you were quite eager to work with the well-known lieutenant who's been here the longest.

However as soon as the captain left, he dropped his smile and gave you a rather ominous word of advice:

"Never get too attached to anyone."

In another life, he would have been more enthusiastic about training a rookie officer. But while giving you a tour of the station and all its rooms, his nihilism kept taking over his speeches.

It wouldn't let him shake the awful feeling that he basically sealed your fate...that being you could possibly die to an Alternate under his watch.

Specifically the one that's been tormenting him all these years. He still hasn't told the MCPD about it. He just can't.

It'll probably try to come for you next.

So he tried to keep his emotions at a distance so it wouldn't hurt him in the long run.

Yet you didn't let his attitude discourage you from asking questions and being as optimistic as you could, given the circumstances. You figured he's just seen some really shitty stuff in his career, understanding that's why he acted so closed-off.

At least he sounded nice in the emails.

.......

In the weeks following you being hired at the MCPD and working alongside Thatcher, things...have gotten interesting.

But they started off fairly grim.

He was still struggling to get out of bed and drag himself to the police station, trying to hide the fact he barely cared about his job anymore. His superiors sometimes had to call him in with threats of suspension, and he'd arrive looking constantly exhausted.

It's always been this way...with the exception of you asking if he was alright or getting him coffee if he forgot to make some. And while he accepted the drinks, he'd brush off any and all concerns you had over his health.

You shouldn't have to worry over him so much.

During your shifts together, you'd accompany him to places where Alternates were recently sighed (or their victims) and ask witnesses questions, or at the station where you'd review files and video footage regarding the most recent incidents, taking notes of whatever you find that he might've missed--and vice versa.

He'd often look back on files regarding the "Heathcliff Case", staring at the details even though he's reviewed them at least a hundred times over. He never elaborated on why he was so transfixed on them.

Could he really tell you that's where he immediately failed up as a lieutenant?

Absolutely not.

The one thing he kept putting off for weeks was training you on taking 911 calls--specifically those regarding an Alternate home invasion. He'd make excuses to show you other things whilst passing the headset to a different operator or officer, leading you to being confused but going along with him anyways.

It's not that he didn't believe you could handle it...he's just afraid of what you'll think when he tells you about the protocol.

However his superiors eventually caught on with his excuses and assigned you both strictly to the call center for a day.

When the first one came through, he had no choice but to instruct you through the process.

In all honesty, you felt sick to your stomach when you lied to the poor victim who said an Alternate was in her home, reassuring her calmly that help will arrive soon....when it's not coming at all. Even worse was when she begged you to stay on the line until they "arrived", although a short while later she didn't respond when you asked for a description of the intruder.

Then the call disconnected.

You had no idea if she was dead or forced to hang up, but you were irritated by Thatcher's nonchalant attitude about it, especially as he remarked that she was already "gone".

You both got into a brief argument about the cruelty of this "protocol". Of course, you knew it wasn't his fault that it was established this way, but you wished he showed a little more empathy.

Fortunately, the tension was short-lived as you received another call.

Calming yourself, you sat back down in the chair and donned the headset, dreading yet another home intruder report that you won't be able to save this person from. But you took a couple deep breaths before answering it, with the lieutenant listening to you closely.

"This is Mandela County Police, how may I help you?" You put on your most sincere voice.

"H-Hi, um..I know this isn't a real emergency so it's gonna sound stupid. Bu, I-I just..I'm very stressed about school and I need to talk to somebody. D-Do you mind if I rant?"

"...oh! Of course, hun." Immediately you were thrown off-course when you heard a timid teenager's voice on the other end instead of a panicked adult. "I'm not exactly a licensed mental health counselor, but I promise to listen for a bit."

"What?" Thatcher furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "No, no, no. [L/n], tell this kid to get off the emergency line and call th-"

You ignored him and listened to the teen vent about their anxieties regarding the Alternate situation. They didn't understand why everybody else at school acted like this was the "new norm" when it shouldn't be, as their grades began to falter and they struggled to sleep at night.

At one point they began sobbing over the phone, afraid they won't have a future to look forward to, but you reassured them their fears were valid and that they're not alone with these feelings.

Although it felt like a white lie..you told them everything was going to be okay, and shortly after that they settled down.

Meanwhile Thatcher, who was at first livid over you blatantly disregarding his instructions, listened to your voice and realized how...sweet and nurturing you sounded towards this kid--suddenly no longer wanting to intervene and terminate the call himself.

Now that he thought about it...when's the last time an officer here ever answered a call that genuinely helped someone?

The fact he couldn't remember was telling.

"I think I handled that well."

Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked to see your smug grin as you switched off the headset, having finished the call. But when you saw his face, it disappeared and you sighed, knowing he was probably pissed off.

"Look, before you given me a write-up, I know that wasn't a "real" emergency, but I'm sure I saved that kid from spiraling into one."

"No, you have a point. I'm not gonna write you up." He reassured you. "I thought they were gonna say something about their math homework."

"Well, if their biggest concern is homework and not an Alternate..then I guess there's hope for the youth in this county." You chuckled. "So what's next, lieutenant?"

"....dunno. We're almost off the clock. You wanna....grab some coffee afterwards?"

You blinked. "Huh? Like..in the breakroom?"

"Nah I mean uh..at the gas station. I need to buy some food there anyway. Got nothing for dinner at home so.." He shrugged his shoulders; although part of him regretted mumbling that last bit considering the worried look you suddenly gave him. "...uh I mean-"

"Why don't I treat you to dinner instead?" You offered, which made him do a double-take. Though you quickly backtracked, your face flushed as you realized he could've taken that the wrong way. "I don't mean that a-as like...a date or...anything like that. There's a diner downtown you might've already been to but-"

"It's fine. I know the one you're talking about." He spoke up, smiling a little bit. "I actually haven't been there at all. But if you insist I'll...take the offer. Might as well get to know each other better."

While surprised he immediately accepted the invitation, you couldn't help smiling back before another call came through, and you focused on answering it. This time Thatcher didn't intervene and simply let you work while he occupied himself at another computer.

Suddenly both of you were very eager for the last hour of your shift to pass by.

...........

The "date" at the local diner went relatively well, with you and Thatcher chatting about recent cases and personal interests.

He didn't say a whole lot about himself, claiming his life was "boring" and asked more about yours instead. But it turns out you two shared similar tastes in movies and music, recommending stuff to each other and even exchanging personal numbers after dinner.

He mentioned a story of how he started playing heavy metal music in the station back when he was a rookie officer like you, getting his first write-up for it.

It made you laugh, and it was in that moment where he felt...the smallest of butterflies in his stomach.

At the time, however, he thought it was just anxiety. So he tried not to think too much of it as you both parted ways, seeing each other back at the station for your next shifts.

But ever since that night, you've been spending a lot more time together outside of work--to the point where, a month later, Thatcher felt comfortable enough to invite you over to his place.

Obviously he had to clean up so it looked more "presentable" to you...something he hasn't done nor cared about in years until meeting you.

He didn't know how or why, but you've considerably uplifted his spirits, pulling him out of this dark ditch he's been lying in for so long. He enjoyed your company and gave him reasons to come into the station on time.

Even his coworkers noticed and were impressed, with some teasing him about having a "crush" on you.

That reality did hit him, though...he did love you. You've been his motivation and inspiration. The light in his dark world.

Yet despite genuinely looking forward to seeing you, he was still putting up his usual front..as he was, in fact, feeling more stressed than ever before.

When he first met you, he warned you to not get attached to anybody--and here he was being a goddamn hypocrite.

Surprisingly enough, that Alternate hasn't shown its face in a long time. No longer did it invade his home, whispering nonsense and taunting threats in the dead of night; it led him to wonder if it grew bored of toying with him and decided to look elsewhere for a new victim, realizing he wasn't giving into MAD.

Could you have somehow driven it off without knowing?

He stopped believing in angels long ago, but part of him wants to believe you're one in disguise.

Perhaps..she knew he desperately needed one and sent you to help him when he lost all hope.

Yet you still didn't know anything about what happened that awful night, nor the mounting pressure Thatcher has put on himself after all these years. He just wasn't sure how to bring it up and explain everything without you calling him "crazy".

But it was killing him to keep all of this inside, though he felt like he had to..lest you thought of him as a weakly coward.

He's your superior. You should be looking up to him and counting on him for help, not the other way around. He even told himself he wasn't going to burden you with his past mistakes.

At the same time, you were the kindest and most nonjudgmental soul on the planet. He learned this firsthand that day you took that anxious teen's 911 call and assured them there was hope for their future.

That's where he first believed you were someone who could be trusted.

Even if you couldn't fix everything right away...you'd listen, and maybe that's the kind of person Thatcher needed in his life all along.

He knew that eventually you'll wanna ask him about that night, and he thinks he'll be ready to do so very soon.

Besides, he's going to run out of cassette tapes at some point.

.......

On the anniversary of Ruth's passing, both you and Thatcher had the day off.

You figured you'll sleep in and not disturb him, knowing he probably wanted to be alone today. But you did send one message to check up on him, saying you're always here to support him should he ever need it.

You knew him and Ruth used to be good friends back in the day, having accepted their promotions together and speaking publicly on live television. The MCPD still retained the footage, and you watched it on your work computer, smiling as they made their speeches to the community.

If only you were there to congratulate them both...

Your superiors remarked how he never truly did get over her death, acting like it's some huge "inconvenience" that he struggled to move on.

But even you knew that it's not that easy.

How could one simply "move on" after losing a close friend to one of those monsters? It's certainly difficult and painful, though you've wondered about the circumstances of her passing, always hearing everybody except Thatcher himself talk about it.

Was there a reason?

Did they twist the story?

You weren't sure, and you didn't think he'll be willing to give you any answers.

Especially not today.

Yet a short while later, you heard your laptop make a ping noise to indicate a new message and rushed to open it, reading his response:

[Thank you, [y/n]. If you're not too busy, could you come over in an hour? There's some things I wanted to talk about. I trust you enough]

You felt your heart skip a beat, wondering what he possibly could've wanted to discuss. But you were flattered that he trusted you, considering you didn't think he'd ever grow this close to you.

You simply replied "I'll be there" and hit send before getting ready, heading to his place an hour later.

Apparently he was expecting you, as before you could even knock on the door, he opened it up instead. And for a moment you stood there, taking in his appearance.

He looked like absolute hell, as though he just crawled out of bed, wearing a baggy band T-shirt with black pants. The dark circles around his eyes have gotten considerably worse, too, making him almost look skeletal-like.

Not to mention he reeked of smoke and cheap booze, both scents masked with cologne, but you didn't let it stop you from hugging him. "I got here as soon as I could." You said, smiling as he returned the hug. "How are you feeling?"

"...alright, I guess. Thanks. Hope I wasn't bothering you."

"You weren't, trust me." You shook your head, before letting each other go.

After heading inside, you noticed all the window blinds were drawn shut and the TV was droning in the background, showing some 90s flick. If not for the screen's light, then the entire living room for sure would've been pitch black.

You didn't see any reason to remind him of the laws concerning TVs and mirrors, being more worried about whatever he wanted to discuss with you.

Yet even as you both sat down on the couch, he found himself hesitating. He knew this was going to be a difficult conversation, but despite reaching out to you....he suddenly didn't feel ready anymore.

He started to regret ever sending that message in the first place.

You had to be the one to push him.

"So what did you wanna talk about? And don't tell me you were an Alternate this entire time.." You lightly joked, although when you noticed him staring vacantly at the TV, hands trembling as he turned the volume down, you realized your mistake. "..I'm sorry, Thatch. I shouldn't be kidding around on a day like-"

"It's okay."

"N-No, it's..it's fine. I'm not one of those things, I promise." He shook his head, trying to bite back the tears burning in his eyes as he turned to you. His heart was already hammering in his chest, throat feeling dry as he tried to keep his voice steady.

"It's just...fuck...where do I begin? A-And how can I say this without sounding selfish or crazy-?"

Blinking, Thatcher realized you had taken his shaking hand into your own, your thumb gently brushing over the back of it. And once again, he felt those familiar butterflies in his stomach..

He's never really felt this sort of kind touch..ever.

"Just take your time. I'm not going anywhere." You reassured him, feeling him squeeze his hand around yours tightly.

"..you sure you won't..tell anyone?" He asked, wishing he didn't already sound so pathetic. "Even if it were to change how you see me?"

"Whatever it is, it'll stay between us. I promise."

With that final confirmation...he told you everything.

He explained what happened to Ruth on this very night and the endless guilt of "abandoning" her that's haunted him since. He confessed to running away from the site out of fear when she vanished, without ever checking to see if she was even alive, never saying anything except she was MIA.

He also spoke of this weight he's been carrying all this time, still trying to be the "brave" and "heroic" lieutenant that everybody expects him to be and how he couldn't show any weakness, lest he let them all down...you included.

For years he was shamed for being a coward, when nobody knew that he and the entire department were just as terrified and helpless against those monsters as anyone. He mentioned not being able to sleep anymore...as the one who killed Ruth still remembers and taunted him every night over his failure.

It never made him forget, and some days he wished it was him who died instead.

Just so he didn't have to keep living with this burden.

He managed to speak calmly for the most part, uninterrupted by you. But he eventually broke down into tears when he tried explaining why he attempted to act cold towards you all those months ago.

Somewhere along the line, he spilled his true feelings of how he loved you and wanted to protect you but was far too scared of repeating his past mistakes, fearing that you'll end up just like-

However, you brought him into your arms before he could finish that statement, uttering something simple yet comforting that he needed to hear after all this time:

"It wasn't your fault."

And he immediately crumbled in your embrace, defeated as he quietly sobbed into your shoulder. He was unable to stop himself from clinging to you like some helpless child, but he didn't care anymore.

This felt a hundred times more cathartic than ranting on a cassette tape and writing letters to a dead person.

For some time, you held him without any judgement, rubbing his back as his emotions kept spilling forth. You wish you could kill the bastard that ruined his entire life...though this was all you could offer in the present.

And it was more than enough.

But as you comforted him, it finally sank in that this guy confessed to you, and you couldn't help but press a gentle kiss to his head, affirming that you reciprocated his feelings.

It seems he opened up to you in more ways than one.

"I love you too, Thatch." You muttered after he fell silent, to which he lifted his head up and looked at you with surprise.

"R-Really? You mean that?" He wiped at his watery eyes, slowly pulling out of the hug.

"Of course, why would I lie?"

"Well..uh...y-you just saw your "superior" have a freak out." Sniffling lightly, he looked down at his lap, the embarrassment catching up to him. "This is who I really am, [y/n]...just a loser crying like a baby over shit that happened nearly 20 years ago-"

"Hey. You're not a loser." You frowned a bit, taking both of his hands into yours. "Whether it's 20 years or 20 minutes..grief still hurts like a bitch, especially if you never confided in anybody until now. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Thatcher nodded, his head feeling considerably clearer for the first time in ages. He was just relieved you didn't shun him. "Thanks for that...I've just..i-it's been hell, and...."

However, he trailed off as you leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, both of you becoming equally flustered at what you just did on impulse.

It felt like you were both back in highschool, being two lovesick idiot teenagers who just shared their first kiss--except one was a lieutenant and the other a rookie cop.

He stared at you for some time, before smiling a bit. "How long have you been wanting to do that?"

"....a while." You admitted. "But..are you sure this is alright? Considering we work together, it might be...um-"

"What they don't know won't hurt 'em. So...now that everything's out there, you wanna go on an official "date" to that diner later?"

"I thought you'd never ask! But only if you're okay enough to. I don't want you to feel like I'm dragging you out of-"

"You're not. I need to get my ass up anyways."

---Two Weeks Later--

"Is it true that you're going out with the lieutenant??"

"Wha...who said that??" Stopping at one of the call operators' desks, you noticed her smug grin and stared back at her suspiciously. "Who else knows?"

"Uh, literally everybody here has known since last week. I haven't seen that guy smile in years until you came along. So whatever you did to drag him out of his shell...good job." She chuckled. "You must feel pretty lucky."

"Ah.." Flustered that you got so defensive so quickly over a known fact--that you and Thatcher were officially a couple--you just shook your head, flashing a tiny smile at her. "Thanks, but honestly he keeps telling me that he's the lucky one."

"That's fair. Before your break, can you run this file by him? It's for the case he's on."

"Sure." You took the folder and headed off to find your boyfriend at his desk, filing a report.

Only when you approached did he look away from the screen, a smile on his face. "Hey, you."

"Hey, you." You quickly pecked him on the lips, setting the folder down onto the table. He grumbled something about "PDA" and "staying professional", but you just rolled your eyes at his complaints. You can tell he wished the kiss was longer.

"I'm still your superior, y'know."

"Understood, "boss"..so what's the incident this time?" Curious, you peered over at his computer screen.

"A recent sighting of a supposed "child Alternate" that murdered the real kid's dad in the middle of the night," he explained, sipping his coffee. "It spared the actual person it mimicked, though..which is kinda weird, but I don't feel sorry for the bastard considering his criminal record. He lied in court just to get custody of a kid he didn't even give a shit about."

"Huh, interesting.." You hummed. "Maybe some Alternates can feel a sense of injustice around them? Or empathy?"

"I doubt it. They just mimic what they see and hear." He shrugged. "Once I finish this up I'll join you on break, okay?"

"Okaaay." You sighed dramatically, ruffling his hair up a little. "Don't work too hard, dear."

All you got was a small nod in return as Thatcher went back to typing, and you headed to the breakroom. But you could easily tell he was ready to keel over at the endearing nickname you've given him. That coffee mug couldn't hide the light blush that dusted his face no matter how hard he tried.

He's well aware of the risk he took by opening up to you, especially on the day where he felt he was at his lowest--something he never wanted anybody to see.

But he's glad he took that chance. Now that he knew you'd have his back, loving him and supporting him unconditionally, he was going to try his hardest to protect you.

And if that Alternate decided to come back?

He'll make sure it doesn't get to even breathe near you.

Not on his watch.

#clanask #anonymous #mandela catalogue x reader #tmc x reader #thatcher davis #thatcher davis x reader #female reader #hurt/comfort #tw suicide mention

75 notes · View notes

heartthumpnovel · 4 months

Text

Heart Thump: The Cursed Prince AU

Part 2

Word Count: 9846 Since the short got about nearly a 100 notes (Holy shit you guys :'D) I kind of have to create the promised follow up. This is gonna be a mini-series I think to help break up the monotony of writing the canon story while still being related. Chapter 7 in canon is still cooking so, have this second part being about Natasha convincing Jason to do the one thing I get asked often.... to touch grass. Part 1 Part 2 (you are here)

cw: Implied past abuse, panic attack

—

The morning light flooded gently into the bedroom window as it reflected on the dust settling in the cluttered bedroom. While it wasn’t a complete mess, it had various garments and sewing supplies scattered throughout with a half-completed lute lay on the desk. Definitely needed some love and care around the place.

During the morning rise as the room brightened up, a figure shifted and moaned in the bounds of pillows that nearly covered every square inch of the bed. A dark and nicely taken care of hand reached out from the mountain of pillows to search the bedside for the goblet of water. Her fingers felt the cold marble of it and attempted to grab it, however she missed the mark on it and shuffled the goblet just far enough to where it tipped on the end and made a loud thunk on the floor. “Gods damn it.” Natasha mumbled, dragging herself out of bed. She pulled off the towel that was holding her hair as she forced herself into consciousness. Her dark curled hair fell onto her shoulders and a bit into her eyes. She huffed and rubbed her eyes, wondering what time it was supposed to be as it felt like she just got back into bed.

She could smell the morning dew and saw that the light had entered her bedroom, if she had to guess it was just after daybreak. Her eyes widened. “Oh! OH-!” She shouted as she ripped the sheets off of her and let the pillows be thrown all around her bed as Natasha leapt out of bed.

“Craaaap- I was supposed to finish it today before.. Ugh!” Natasha strode to the lute she was in the middle of repairing and sighed as her fingers trailed the wood of the base.

“Suppose there’s next time...” Natasha mumbled as she stepped away and opened her wardrobe with force. Her arms searched through the closet that could have been deep enough to hold at least one lion.

“Right, thinkin’ pink today… ” Natasha said to herself as she rushed to put on her normal going out wear which comprised a nice yet reliable blouse with a vest and her nice riding pants, “And just to be on the safe side…” Natasha pulled out her shoulder guard and attached the belt to her chest. Can never be too safe in the wilder woods, even if everyone she’s met there has been friendly. Though the one person who she met out there was a guy who was trapped in a tower by their royally messed up family, she still considered that one friendly face out there.

With that, Natasha rushed to her dresser and did her best to braid up her hair on short notice. The dressed up Natasha strolled out of her room and paced down the hallway, trying to think of ideas to bring to her meeting with the cursed prince. Originally it was going to be her bringing some delightful music to play, though her lute broke a few moons back unfortunately, and she’d been procrastinating on fixing the thing.

While he was on her journey down the hall, the servants doing chores gave their greetings to the noble lady as she passed by them, in turn she also greeted them with a warm smile. “Mornin’ Farin!” “Good day, Sanguine!” “How’s that leg treating you Steven? Hope it gets better soon!” Natasha then made it to the main hall where there was a grand staircase leading to the entryway. Just as she was about to jostle down the stairs, she could hear a woman clear her throat. Natasha sighed and turned around to be met with Miss Gurnda, the chef her mother hired ages ago. “Morning Gurnda, do you need anything?” Natasha asked genuinely. “Oh dear Lady Natasha, Sorry for keeping you but, I’ve noticed you’ve not been home during morning breakfast or lunch. Are you eating well?” The older woman asked with concern in her eyes. “Awwhh,” Natasha said, scratching the back of her head, “I’m sorry ma’am… spring is the best to forage for herbs and I’ve been trying to make sure I’ve had enough supplies before summer hits.”

Natasha then raised an eyebrow, “Wait what’s that basket for?” Natasha asked as she pointed at a basket with a cloth covering something that smelled of roasted garlic and potato.

The older woman gave a chuckle and moved the cloth a bit to reveal some nicely done potato rolls, still steaming and the scent was mouthwatering. “I know I won’t be able to keep you here,” The chef said as she handed the basket over to Natasha, “But it will be a chilly day in hell if I left my little rosebud to starve out there.”

Natasha held the basket handle in her arms, feeling her heart flutter and she reached out an arm to hug Gurnda enthusiastically. “Awh thanks Gurnda!” She cheerfully spoke as she held the basket close to her side, “You’re too sweet.”

Gurnda returned the gesture with a hug of her own before Natasha made her way down the stairs. The old chef could have sworn that Natasha was in a happier mood than usual. Before Gurnda could wave off Natasha, the noble lady turned around from the grand doors and looked up at her, “Oh and could you do me a favor?” Natasha asked, “Don’t tell ma or pa I’m out in the woods again.” The chief raised a suspicious eyebrow before chuckling. “Alright but, you’re going to be the one to tell them my lady.”

“I’ll tell them when they stop tellin’ me what to do.” Natasha returned with a grin before she pushed the front doors open to leave. Gurnda sighed as she walked off to do her morning duties as she shook her head.

----

Natasha rushed towards the stables with her basket of delicious goods as she traversed through the front gardens. She passed by the neatly trimmed hedges and blooming marigolds with a spring in her step. Happy to get to see the cursed prince, as if she was young again and was skipping to a playdate with their childhood best friend.

Sure, it had only been a month, but visiting Jason during her herb runs had become the highlight of Natasha's days. She never imagined finding happiness while harvesting lavender in the allegedly dangerous wildwoods, where only brave souls dared to venture. But the moment she saw the man grumpily yelling at her to leave, call it cliché if one must, it was love at first sight.

In all the tales and rumors about the cursed Atlas prince, none of them ever described that the giant trapped in the woods was handsome and a cute flustered mess. Though the rumor mill is rarely honest and she found it quite sad to hear people still believing that he’s just some Atlas super weapon gone terribly wrong. Instead of seeing a monster reaching out of the tower to eat nearby travelers, she had seen a lonely man who just needed to get outside. Natasha sighed at that prospect as she left the luscious gardens and headed towards the stables to get her horse ready for another trek in the woods. Despite having spoken with Jason multiple times since their first meeting, he seemed disinterested in leaving the small prison tower. While it was understandable that he feared people hunting him down, Natasha couldn't help feeling crestfallen whenever he gazed wistfully towards the outside world.

"Hey Nirvana," Natasha greeted her white and brown spotted steed, who was busy munching on hay, "You ready to go?" The horse responded with a huff before pulling its head out of the hay, swishing its tail indifferently. Natasha brushed her fingers through the horse's mane and secured the basket of delicious dumplings.

“Where the hells do you think you’re going?” a familiar gruff voice spoke up that made Natasha’s shoulder’s jump. Damn it.

Natasha smiled and turned around to see her childhood best friend and coincidentally, the head of the city guard. The knight was already dressed down from head to toe in his steel armor that only lacked his helmet to let his brown curly hair lie low as it allowed him to show his disapproved scowl. “Ohhh heeeyy Axel,” Natasha said, “How’s it going?” “Don’t give me that ya weasel,” Axel spoke with his hands going to his hips, “You’ve literally been ditching sword training all week.” He would not let her off the hook. Natasha sighed as she turned back to her horse to complete tying the basket to the saddle, “You know I really don’t gotta do that, unlike you knights.” She commented with a side eye as she could feel the angry stare Axel was giving her through his bangs.

“Yeah I guess but, who was the one to ask about getting trained!?” Axel scoffed, he clasped his two hands together and pressed them on his cheek as he pretended to speak with an exaggerated higher pitch and whimsy.

"Oh, Axel, you're so strong and badass! If only I, a child with a silver spoon in my mouth, could swing a sword like you! Could you pwetty pwease teach me your ways so I can defend myself in the big scary woods while I pick pretty flowers?~" “Oh shut up! I don’t talk like that.” Natasha retorted with an eye roll, “Look I’m sorry I’ve not been able to make it, I’ve just been busy with spring.”

Axel huffed, leaning against the barn wall behind Natasha. "Come on, Nat, what's really going on?" he asked, watching as Natasha tried her best to ignore him. "You love beating up the hay dummies at the training grounds."

Natasha loved Axel like a brother, but he could also be annoying like one too. "I'm practicing a special formation called Nyanabussiness, bloodhound," Natasha said, making the mistake of glancing up at him. That one point of eye contact was enough for Axel to understand what she was hiding.

“You…” Axel said with a mischievous grin, “Youuuu are sneaking out to see someone!” Damn it. The knight burst into laughter with the sounds of his chain-mail clanking. He put a hand on his forehead and tried to regain his composure to speak as Natasha’s cheeks darkened. She sputtered trying to hide what she already pulled out to the open. “It-it’s not like that-” Natasha tried to interject though the knight wasn’t letting up.

"AHAHAHA- oh gods, this is rich!" Axel exclaimed before patting Natasha's shoulder hard, "Who's the unlucky sod?"

The noble laughed before shoving the knight away playfully, “We’re not courting!” Natasha said, “We’ve just been hanging out at his place since he’s a bit of a hermit.”

“Oh wow,” Axel said as he scratched his slightly hairy jaw, “The daughter of politicians is going out to see a lowly hermit in the wilder woods… scandalous.” He smirked as he watched Natasha untie the reins off of the stable’s post. “It won't be scandalous if nobody finds out.” Natasha pointed out as she grabbed the saddle of her steed and hopped right onto the horse. Axel just stood there and crossed his arms, he knew better than to stop her.

"Alright, well, take care, will ya? I ain’t in the mood to come and rescue you," Axel said half-jokingly as Natasha rode the horse out of the stable. She didn't bother to look back and responded with a sarcastic thumbs up as the horse galloped away.

Axel shook his head with a tsk under his breath, hoping that Natasha knew what she was doing.

----

Most people feared the wilder woods for a good reason; it was a dangerous place if one wasn’t careful. While the forest itself seemed perfectly safe at first glance, with beautiful flora growing and the wild life thriving in this ecosystem, it was dense and made for a good hiding spot for bandit camps or rogue magic users. Since it was also the middle point of the Atlas and Solaris kingdom with a rather profitable trade route, many who worked outside the law found this forest to be a haven for their robberies.

Thankfully Natasha had known a good part of these woods for a while and usually traveled away from the primary routes. Her horse was trained to traverse off of paths and she had steered clear of smoke from campfires. Criminals weren’t the only thing she was cautious of however, she had heard of fae being active in the area and while she had seen none herself; she made a note to avoid rings of mushrooms and marked focus sites. And then there are those who warned of the mysterious giant. That one she chose to ignore.

Her heart raced as she found the grove that had hidden away the initial path to the clearing with the tower. Natasha didn’t want to risk getting her horse hurt from having to traverse through the underbrush, so she tied Nirvana up to a tree branch. Before she left through the bushes, she untied the basket from the saddle and patted the steed gently on his muzzle. “That’s a good boy…” Natasha whispered as she pulled her hand away, “Yell if there’s trouble you hear me?” The horse huffed in acknowledgement before it leaned it’s neck down to eat the luscious grass growing by the tree’s roots. Natasha turned to the grove and made her way through the prickly bushes and leaves as she protected the goods within the basket. By now she knew her way through the branches and had made a small path for herself after countless visits. She was cautious to not get her clothes torn because she wouldn’t hear the end from her mother.

Once she pushed aside the final bush, she saw the aging stone brick tower that was settled within the forest clearing. If Natasha wasn’t aware of the context that prison held, it would have been a nice centerpiece for a painting. It wasn’t a watch tower, she had seen similarly designed buildings before. The tower that stood tall in front of her was a prison for those who were banished, thus the maddening monotony of the brickwork was hardly a pleasant subject for a picture.

The noble wondered how in the world Jason held himself together in that place. Natasha wished deep within her heart that he would just let her free him to avoid such a terrible fate.

Never minding that, she pressed on through the clearing and traversed over the small walking bridge to get to the base of the tower. She cleared her throat and called up to the lone stone balcony to beacon the prince.

“Rapunzel, Rapanuzel, let down your hair!” Natasha yelled. “How many times are you going to use that joke?!” The voice from up above responded.

“Hey, I still think it’s funny!” Natasha responded as she crossed her arms. She listened closely from below, as she could hear a little clanking and rustling. This time around she pondered if she was going to see him large once more. He had ‘shifted’ for lack of a better word to describe it, twice after their first meeting. However, he hasn’t shifted drastically since then or, she just hadn't noticed. While it pained her a little to not witness the magical phenomenon again, she understood that it wasn’t her choice to make.

Eventually, she spotted those adorable wide hazel eyes peeking over the stone balcony, and those thin piano-like fingers clutching onto the edge. A smile spread across her face as she raised her hand to wave at the prince within the tower.

"Hey, how's it going, big guy?" Natasha called upwards, unsure if Jason had transformed into his taller state, as the distance between them made it hard to tell.

Jason revealed his smooth face and lanky chest, flashing a sweet dimpled smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, you know, not doing much out here," Jason replied, "Though I did finally figure out a good balance to make tea from the lavender you graciously gave me." He twiddled his thumbs over the edge of the balcony, contemplating something important. “Uhm, would you kindly join me for a spot of tea?” He asked, loud enough to be heard but quiet because of nervousness. “You want me to climb up there?!” Natasha excitedly asked, fully prepared to make the climb if she had to- but, right after saying that Jason shot down her suggestion. “OH, no no no!” Jason exclaimed as he waved his hands, “I-I wouldn’t want you to accidentally injure yourself from climbing up here and me being.. well, me.” Natasha felt disappointed for a moment, “Awh… then how-" Before she could finish Jason pushed away from the balcony and came back with a tied basket in hand. He smiled in pride as he patted the items covered in the basket. “Keeping safety in mind, I’d thought I would just send your portion just uh, be careful with my tea set will you?” Jason said with sheepish politeness in his speech, “It’s the only one I have.”

While it was a downer that they would not be meeting face-to-face, she guessed he wasn’t ready for that yet. Natasha brushed off the disappointment with an excited thumbs up and a wink.

“I’ll treat it as gently as a newborn,” Natasha swore as she raised a hand in oath. With that, Jason gently hung his basket on the rope so graciously given to him from the first time they met. The basket slowly came down and it landed softly between Natasha’s palms as she reached up to it.

As she untied the basket from the rope, it ascended once more. Natasha wasn't about to let that happen. “Woah, hold on there, your majesty,” Natasha's voice was filled with playful reproach as she tied her own parcel with the rope. Of course, she nabbed one bun before tugging on the rope twice.

It took a couple of moments of stunned silence when the basket disappeared from Natasha’s sight for Jason to acknowledge what Natasha sent up. This gesture felt just like a gift exchange as they each unraveled the goods within their respective baskets.

“You made pastries!?” Jason exclaimed as his head popped out of the window, she could tell he was smiling, “Oh gods, you didn’t have to feed me!”

“Kinda obligated to,” Natasha spoke as she unfolded the blankets that were keeping the teapot warm, “We’re friends now after all.”

Natasha heard the tower’s bricks crumble a bit from above as she unveiled a surprisingly humble tea set. It was indeed porcelain, though it was plain white and had a single blue rose insignia on the side of the pot itself. Sure it was nice though, she expected a royal first born like Jason to have something more gaudy.

She held it up to examine it further with her curious dim wine eyes before pouring a cup of her own. Smells of the lavender and honey had a very relaxing effect on her senses the moment she poured it. Definitely wasn’t something she should drink this early in the day but, she was gracious for the free drink.

“Dang this really nice,” Natasha said as she held the teacup in her lap, “It’d be great for a bad night’s sleep that’s for sure.” The lack of response from Jason prompted her to look up to see he had gone back into the tower. The first thing she noticed when he did return was his towering form, about as tall as a healthy apple tree, crouched from below the window frame. She had to try extremely hard to hold back laughter when it looked like he had a comically small teacup and plate in his large hands. Despite the sight looking ridiculous, his fingers held it regally as a future king should and rolled his eyes, Wondering what was so funny.

“Ahem- Apologizes if the tea is a bit sedative,” Jason spoke as he held the tiny cup to his lips, “I’m used to preparing it this way so I can calm down whenever … this happens.” With that he inhaled deeply and despite being farther away, Natasha could see his form shrink immediately with a calmed sigh. With that- Jason took a sip. “Ahh, see? Much better..” He said as he leaned on the side of the balcony to gain a better viewpoint of Natasha.

“This stuff isn’t going to shrink me too is it?” Natasha asked as she was in mid-sip.

Jason had to hold back laughter to not spill his tea and swallow harshly in order to correct her. He cleared his throat with a few pats to his chest. “Ahem- Heavens no!” Jason explained, “Height altering stuff like that doesn’t exactly work on me, plus even if it did- I wouldn’t think of spiking you with it!” Jason stirred the tea with a small silver spoon as he shook his head. “It’s just a calming agent,” Jason said, “Frankly it’s not even alchemy and yet, for some reason works the best to help me get back into the right shape.”

A pit fell within Natasha’s stomach. ‘Right shape’? Something about the way he was referring to himself wasn’t sitting right with her. Her eyes stared into her cup for a moment in silence, thinking.

“Uh?” The voice from above spoke in confusion, “Is everything alright Lady Maryrose?”

Natasha suddenly chugged down the lavender tea and set her cup in the basket with a determined look on her face that was barely masked with a sweet smile. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” Natasha said, “I think this tea party would be a lot nicer if we were by a scerne lake, wouldn’t you agree?” By the look of his grimminced face that too was also masked by a grin, his voice seemed to be peaceful but his eyes told a much different story. “I-I mean I suppose it would-” Jason shuddered as he put his own drink down, “Shame really.”

“Why shame though?,” Natasha interjected as she put one hand on her hip and the other pointed her thumb to the woods, “I know a great secluded pond near here that I think you’d like-” “You know I can’t do that!” Jason interrupted, a tinge of sadness prevailed through his firmness, “The cursed prince of the Anderheart family AKA, ME, stays in the tower in order lest he cause the end of the world!”

“Says who? Your dad? I don’t see him around to catch you sneaking out ya know.” Natasha spoke with a grin as she laid a hand on the stone walls, “Even from down here I know you couldn’t hurt a fly if you tried.”

“I-uh, No, I mean-” Jason fumbled as he crossed his arms inward, “What-what if I can’t control myself and accidentally step on you!?” She had the audacity to shrug. “Eh, accidents happen.” “...Natasha.”

Before the prince could acknowledge Natasha’s rather self destructive behavior, she placed her hand on the wall gently as she looked up at him with eyes that were just as earnest as a kitten. “Wouldn’t it be nice to change scenery once in a while Jason?” Natasha said, “You have your calming agent with you so if you get uncomfortable out here we can deal with it.” She then clasped her hands together with a smile, “I’ll admit, I’d really like to see you up close.”

Jason's expressions were unreadable as he turned away. Anxieties bubbled within Natasha as she wondered if it was too early to make such a request. She knew he was resolute about staying indoors, yet, as an outsider looking in, it pained her to witness anyone in such misery. This simply wasn’t just.

“I suppose if one were to think about it…” Jason spoke up, Natasha darted her gaze upward, “It seems like curing my curse isn’t going to be an option, so perhaps I could train myself to stay calm and be basically normal. ”

Natasha sighed, while that wasn’t exactly the mindset she was hoping for, it was going to be better than nothing. “So are you gonna come out?” Natasha asked. “...Yes.” Jason answered, he turned around whipping his face with his long silk sleeve.

----

“Actually- I might not be too sure about this!” Jason squealed as he was holding onto the rope, his butt having not even left the stone balcony. He sat upon the balustrade with both of his legs dangling. He could already feel the sweat form on his palms as he was gripping on the twine. They’d already been able to get the basket into Natasha’s arms and the last thing they needed to send down was the cowardly prince himself.

While a door would have been the more sane option, these towers weren’t made for prisoners to just up and leave. The only way to enter the tower, or for things to be transported in, was this measly balcony. Sure it wasn’t a problem for his druid friend who could turn into a bird anytime she pleased but, Jason was far from any wild shape master.

“You’re gonna be fine!” Natasha shouted upwards, “Just hold on to the rope and step down against the stone wall real slowly, you don’t want rope burns!” She set the basket down next to the teapot package beside her and outstretched her arms. “I’ll catch ya if you fall,” she said with a wink, “You trust me right?” “Ri-right…” Jason mumbled, he wasn’t sure if he’d developed a fear of heights or if the little Atlas pleaser in the back of his mind was telling him he was making a grave mistake. However, he’d gotten this far, and he didn’t want to get her hopes up for nothing.

Jason took in a deep breath of the spring air, closed his eyes, slowly pushed himself off the edge and pressed his heels onto the stone wall. If it weren’t too late to turn back now, he’d be scrambling to get back to the safety of his cage. His heart was beating out of his chest and sweat dripped from his forehead as he hopped his way down. He nearly fumbled as for a moment his left foot lost traction, he gripped on tight to the rope with another squeal with his eyes held shut. His scrawny arms had already strained as he held onto dear life. “Get yourself back onto the wall Jason!!” called Natasha, her worry starting to set in, “You’re doing great for your first time!”

“I doubt that…” mumbled Jason as he swung his legs back into position and made another kick down. About two-thirds of the way through, the climb had already felt like hours rather than just mere moments and Jason was putting his full focus into not--

“KA-CAWH!” “AH!- aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!”

An unfortunate crow decided that moment was the perfect time to swoop down near the eardrums of the prince and scream the song of its people. Good for the bird, not great for Jason as his hands lost grip on the rope. Jason screamed, believing his short and rather pathetic life had ended in an ironic tragedy.

“Oh sh- I GOT YOU!” Was the last thing Jason heard before he shut his eyes, his world going dark.

----

"AGH! Oh my Gods—Jason, are you alright!?" Natasha exclaimed, her voice filled with concern, as she felt Jason's limp body fall into her arms. "J-Jason!? Anderheart!? Your majesty, are you okay?!" she cried out.

She kept her balance despite the surprise leap as she stumbled from the impact. Her arms instinctively held onto him tight, her heart feeling like it could burst out of her chest with fear. Looking down upon the prince, she could feel him breathing through her hands. Releasing a sigh of relief, Natasha jostled him a little to see if he would wake up. That’s when she noticed a few things about him. Firstly; he was tiny. Not as small as a halfling or a forest elf but, he was definitely short for a grown man and he was as light as a barely filled sack of cabbages. On account of his gangly arms, he definitely wasn’t fit enough to scale the tower. Natasha wasn’t even a classically strong woman herself and yet, she was having no problem holding him.

Secondly; she noticed his pale skin which looked like it hadn't seen direct sunlight in a while, which to be fair, was the truth. Despite this however, it wasn’t pristine as there were a few tattle tale bruises from his collarbone and forehead. It didn’t take a genius to surmise that these were from surprise growth spurts from the claustrophobic walls of the chamber. If it went for the regal clothing and the sparkly dark opal on his circlet, people would believe he was in prison for a decade.

Lastly… well, he was strikingly handsome. Natasha had to admit when she first saw him, she thought he was pretty cute from far away but, up close it was like the gods blessed this man with the jawline and fae-like daintiness. She’d felt a pang of guilt for teasing him when they first met. Sure, it probably was flirting but, her playful flirting was used to see if she could call a bluff about ‘magical growth powers’ Jason warned about. A groan startled Natasha out of her thoughts, noticing that Jason stirred and his doe-like hazel eyes, that were hidden behind his knocked askew lenses, squinted from the light.

“Ugh, did I make … it…” Jason murmured, his fingers rising to re-adjust his glasses, before his eyes fully widened as they were met with eyes of near celestial dim wine eyes.

While they were both blushing, Jason’s face turned completely pink and despite being in a trance, Natasha could feel her arms suddenly undertake a mysterious weight. Suddenly, Jason squirmed dramatically and pushed himself out of her comforting embrace. Natasha would have been more disheartened about that if she hadn’t seen his previously frail form lurch in height.

She let the fallen angel go and bore witness to the curse, almost doubling him in size, though he somehow still looked lanky even if he was in the same size class as an earth troll. Natasha was struck with awe, staring at him without saying a word for a moment. While no fear touched Natasha’s heart in the slightest, the feeling wasn’t shared with Jason.

The, now 7ft, prince’s face flashed with terror as he backed up against the stone walls of the tower. His gaze darted between Natasha and at the stone balcony above as he tried to catch his hyperventilating breath. “No no no no!” Jason finally spoke up with a distinct stuttering in his voice, “It’s already happening, This was a mistake!” He spun around and attempted to grab the stone bricks with his large frail hands, failing to get anywhere as his palms stung from the rope burn.

“I-I need to get back inside!” he shouted in panic, not noticing Natasha approached him once again to get his attention.

“Jason?… Jason…” Natasha’s pleas fell on panic-stricken ears, “Hey, it’s okay!” She huffed when her voice was being tuned out by the prince’s scared ramblings. Her initial approach of treating Jason like a frightened rabbit wasn’t working out, so she took the next step.

His flowing shirt sleeve was jerked down hard enough to where Jason finally shut his mouth in surprise. His own shoulders tensed and he turned his gaze back down. When their eyes met once more, Natasha’s heart fell as his eyes were trembling and nearly welling up in tears.

Oh, the poor thing.

"And check it out, you’re free!" Natasha reassured, her gesture encompassing the blossoming meadow that surrounded them. A smile graced her lips, beholding the realization dawned upon Jason. He fell into silence, his mouth slightly agape as he contemplated the situation. His eyes left Natasha and his gaze fell upon the lively grove that surrounded the tower.

Gradually, he moved, stepping away from the tower and crossing a small water stream. Natasha followed close behind him, her grin stretching from ear to ear. She couldn't help but wonder about the sensation of breaking through the constraints that had bound him for so long.

His near-pristine shoes brushed against the fresh grass and the gentle spring breeze lifted his charcoal hair gently. There was a pause in his movement and Jason just stood there, presumably taking it all in. Natasha trotted to catch up with his longer legs and crossed her arms, joining him in admiring how lovely the forest was.

Warmness filled her heart, seeing the childlike wonder in his eyes from the wilderwood’s kind greeting. The sunlight held the prince’s skin in a motherly embrace and songs were sung by the insect fauna. At that moment, it was as if she was seeing a whole new person.

A tear dripped down his cheek, which was followed by a soft smile.

“Not bad huh?” Commented Natasha, nearly tearing up herself. “No… not bad at all.” Jason responded.

----

Truly, words from Jason’s favorite novels could not have described the lovely ambiance of an enchanting forest. Glances through his window had only a fraction of the majesty of a soft breeze and the sounds of thriving life surrounding them. It was beautiful, and with the sun warming their casual stroll, one would assume Jason would have been having the time of his life.

That couldn’t be farther from the truth.

In actuality, Jason was in complete inner turmoil whether Natasha knew it or not. It was only just a couple of minutes since they left the view of the tower, but Jason was already being plagued with thoughts of doubt; wondering if he was a bad person for putting the world in jeopardy for a simple picnic, and he was hyper aware of every thought that passed through his mind. He’d already lost control when he fell into the comforting embrace of Natasha when he stupidly let go of the rope. Now he’d be stuck being as tall as a horse, if that horse was on hind legs.

On the other hand though, it proved useful that he could now carry both baskets easily and keep walking pace with Natasha, who was on her steed. It would only be a minute before they arrived at this pond the noble spoke of, by then Jason could drink the tea and shrink back to normal as planned.

However, Jason was now finding it much, much harder to control his thoughts as he’d discovered something else detrimental to the picnic plan that he didn’t account for.

He foolishly fell in love.

Perhaps it was the rush of being saved by a captivating and free-spirited noblewoman, but when he looked into her mystical eyes, it was as if Cupid's arrow had struck him. Unfortunately, his curse, triggered by a racing heart, wasn't connected to happiness. It was specifically romantic love that caused his growth spurts. While romantic themes in literature or daydreams about being saved by a knight could trigger the curse, he had never actually felt romantic love for another person until now. Jason barely made eye contact with Natasha since they left the tower, though he’d unconsciously risk looking at her as they kept conservation. It might have been the newness of being this close to another human being that wasn’t Ellinor, but he couldn’t help but to take in the details he noticed about Natasha, now that they were side-by-side. For trekking out in the woods as often as she did, her blouse with intricate lace was prim and proper for a lady in a well off household. Even her riding pants were only a bit stained at the bottom from the kicked up dirt. Though despite the initial daintiness her appearance was, she had a steel arm guard on her shoulder and a standard short sword holstered at her hip. Jason remembered her mentioning that she was trained to weld a blade for protection. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like she had to use it very often. What really caught his attention though, was the soft cheeks of her face and lovely eyes. Plus her braided hair was extremely impressive, and she pulled off the look very well.

“Ahem, Jason?” Natasha spoke up as she caught him blatantly staring at her. Jason looked down, noticing that the basket handles he had looped on his forearms were suddenly tight. The horse needed to have a pat on the head to calm itself when Jason suddenly sprouted another foot and a half. “S-sorry! I’m trying to keep it together the best that I can out here…” He mumbled, swiftly staring down at his now dirted leather shoes, “I’m doing a rather terrible job at it.”

“You’re doing just fine, big guy,” Natasha responded, “You’ve haven’t attempted to flee to that dinky prison more than once.” “That’s not even what I meant…” Jason grumbled, turning his gaze back to Natasha, “Could I ask you something actually?”

“Try me,” Natasha said, looking up at the giant with an eager grin.

“Why are you not terrified right now?” Jason said as matter of factly as asking how someone’s day went, “Everyone else, even Ellinor, gets tense when I transform like this.”

Natasha jolted a bit when she had to hold back a huge laughing fit, this just confused Jason even more. Before Natasha could give her explanation, Jason leaned down a bit over her in confusion.

“I’m serious!” Jason said, “Just because I’m not prone to violence and raised to be a polite young prince doesn’t make the growth any less strange! How are you calm about all this!?” Upon catching her breath from the laugh she had to hold back, Natasha closed her eyes confidently, petting the back of her steed’s mane. “No offense, but I don’t think you’re capable of hurting anybody,” Natasha said, “Not only that, My best friend is a lycan and trust me, those guys have it much more gruesome compared to your little spurts.”

At first Jason nodded, thinking that was a perfectly reasonable response until… “Wait!? A LYCAN!? You mean a werewolf!?” Spouted Jason, thinking he somehow heard wrong as there was no way a gentlelady like Natasha could be associated with one of the most dangerous beings to roam the Atlas forests. He had never encountered one himself, but he has read stories of mortal men being cursed to turn into fearsome beasts and eat innocent people. Natasha could see Jason’s face run pale, but didn’t let Jason squawk the lies he’s been fed. “Right, I almost forgot you’re Atlan,” Natasha said, “Most of them are nothing like the stories in your books, They’re pretty much sentient as humans are and got instincts of a dog, not a monster.”

“But-but the attacks..” Jason mumbled. “Either bandits, or newbies who think the only way to fill their hunger is by eating people because that’s what they were told werewolves do.”

“Oh-oh..” Jason didn’t exactly have proof of his own to stand on, and the fact he is a cursed man himself didn’t have the right to assume terrible things about others. “I suppose I trust your judgment more than anyone else’s,” Jason said, “I’m sorry for assuming your friend was a beastly brute…” “Oh no he totally is,” Natasha responded with a laugh, “While he gets on my nerves, he’s been there for me since we were kids.” “Ah.. I see,” Jason said as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Truly you are not a judgmental person.”

“What’s there to judge?” Natasha said nonchalantly. “Right we’re just about there.”

After turning the corner, blocked by thorn bushes, Jason let out an audible gasp upon beholding the breathtaking lake. He had encountered depictions of lakes in drawings, but this scene far surpassed his expectations. The sight before him exceeded his imagination; the water sparkled under the midday sun, while life teemed in vibrant abundance all around it.

“Whatcha think?” Natasha asked, dismounting her horse and securing the lead to a nearby branch. Jason had already begun making his way toward the lake, emitting a low whistle. The innate beauty of nature had always drawn the prince, it also served as a distraction from certain matters on his mind. “The water looks nice,” Jason commented as he set the baskets down on the lush grass near the water’s edge, “Didn’t expect a lake filled with this much life to be so clear.”

Natasha was quick to approach his side and playfully elbowed his free arm with a smile. “You wanna go for a dip?” Natasha suggested, though Jason’s eyes darted away from her with embarrassed mumbles. "Actually, I can't swim," Jason admitted candidly. "Life in the tower and all that..." “Oh,” Natasha’s spirit fell a little, though life returned to her eyes when she spun around and raced towards her horse. “That’s alright! Let me get the blanket!” It didn’t take long for the picnic to be set up as they brought little to eat. However humble it was though, it was more than enough for the both of them. After all, the food and drink played second fiddle to the enjoyable company they shared. Jason had to confess that the buns Natasha had brought were not only the spiciest but also the most delectable filled pastries he'd ever tasted.

The conversation they shared started small, but like meadow flowers, it bloomed beautifully. At one point the both of them were having so much fun, Jason’s height relaxed to a size where he could comfortably sit on the checkered blanket.

“There actually hasn’t been another heir in your kingdom,” Natasha explained as she stirred her spoon in her cup, “From what I heard, the current king is having terrible luck bearing any, so technically you’re still next in line if you wanted the crown.” “Ugh,” Jason groaned, “Even if the people magically want me to be their ruler somehow, I don’t think I’d be cut out for it...” He shifted his arms to hug his knees, taking a break from drinking to not hog all of it himself. “Heh, yeah same honestly.” Natasha answered, though didn’t seem to elaborate on what she meant as she stared off into the lake. This piqued Jason’s curiosity and he looked down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Say, you never really talk about who your family is...” Jason mentioned, noticing Natasha suddenly not wanting to make eye contact, “You’re a noble right?” A pit fell into his stomach when she didn’t respond right away with the warm demeanor she’d had up to this point. He lightly tapped on his cup with a finger. “I apologize if that’s a bad subject for you-” Jason tried to cool it over but Natasha interjected with a sigh. “Nah, nah it’s alright,” she said, finally turning her head in his direction, “My parents are good people, it’s just…” She had to think for a moment to find her words, Natasha fiddled with one of the loose strands on her hair. “My family is a part of the governing Circle in Solaris, has been voted in to help rule for generations.” “So you’re basically a princess?” Jason questioned, he wasn’t quite knowledgeable about Solaris politics and had a basic understanding of the democratic process.

“Definitely not, ” Natasha responded, “The people are the ones who decide who gets to be in the Circle, I’d have to campaign just like anyone else and most of the time have a choice to run.” “But you don’t?” Jason wondered, bending down a little to be eye level with Natasha. “My parents have raised me to be in the Circle just like the generations before me,” Natasha said with anger boiling in her chest, “Hells, if I even mention the thought about doing something else other than government work they throw a HUGE fit!” She crossed her arms, still not wanting to make eye contact.

“I hate how we honor freedom for all and yet for some reason I’m selfish for wanting to have freedom of choice!?” Natasha ranted, grabbing the sides of her head, “Now that I’m old enough for professional study, they have been insistent to tie me down to study bureaucracy! It’s just so…” “Not fair?” Jason said. “Yeah.” Natasha confirmed.

In order to comfort her, Jason attempted to reach a hand down and pat her lightly on the shoulder in solidarity. Though as his palm made contact with her vest, his hand roiled and Jason hissed a bit in pain. Natasha jumped a little and spun around to see Jason cringing at the sight of his raw palms.

“You alright!?” Natasha asked in concern, standing up to get a better look at Jason’s hands. “Owww, that smarts…” Jason grumbled as he rubbed the small burn wounds, “My hands are still in pain from the rope incident.”

“Let me have a peek at them,” Natasha said as she reached her hands over to gently grasp the tips of Jason’s fingers, pulling them close to her. He could feel her soft hands rub against the rough skin on the injury slightly. It caught Jason’s surprise when instead of closely inspecting the wound, she just closed her eyes and started to whisper a single word that he couldn’t quite catch. His hands jolted from surprise when a pleasant glow formed around his palms. The light managed to obscure the burns, though he could feel the rough pain from the warm wounds dissipate instantly. It felt like a pleasant chill upon his hands and just as fast as it appeared, the light faded away to reveal his hands being completely healed.

Jason looked at Natasha in awe and before he could speak, she already had an answer ready for him. “Dad used to be a cleric,” Natasha explained, “He taught me a few handy cantrips but, I can’t do anything majorly breathtaking.” “But, you are breathtaking...” Natasha raised her head, wondering if she heard him correctly, though she was met with a sight of an incredibly flustered man who just realized that he said a thought that wasn’t meant to be said out loud. This was also the moment where Jason realized not only did he accidentally flirt with her, but he was holding her hands.

The scandal.

Suddenly, his hands engulfed hers, and the growth spurt triggered his knees to nudge a teacup, toppling it over and threatening to break its porcelain rim. Jason’s heart was beating wildly, and the enlargement kept startling pace with it. He barely had time to scramble away from her as his surroundings became wildly different from before. His surroundings morphed into an entirely different scale, the once-shady trees now surrounded him, the once-vast lake seemed a mere puddle.

Struggling for breath, he crawled back on his hands, retreating toward the clearing's edge, which now wasn't far from the picnic site that had been so peaceful before. Horrified that his shoe was now large enough to topple it all over and it was right beside Natasha, who at this point was standing up with an unreadable shock on her face. "Jason?!" Natasha exclaimed, extending a comforting arm. "Okay, let's take some deep breaths, big guy—" She moved closer, but before she could reach him, he yelped, scaring the birds from their nests in a cacophony of fear.

"DON'T COME CLOSER!" His shout, though unintended, rang out powerfully, the potency of his voice a byproduct of his size. He regretted it instantly, aware of how dangerous his voice had become at this scale. The sight of Natasha covering her ears only intensified his heartache. Closing his eyes tightly, he felt the grass beneath him meld together, the oak branch he'd backed into pressing heavily atop his head. “Yeesh, no need to take out my hearing.” Natasha's voice pierced through, her intent unclear as she ventured closer despite his plea. He struggled to curl up further as he embiggened, knees pulling toward his chest. “I- I'm sorry.” Jason mumbled relatively quietly. The tightness in his chest didn’t alleviate and his fingers had gone numb as he gripped his hands close to his sides, beseeching his own subconscious to regain control. He hadn't been this height since…

Old spear head wounds burned on his gut and ghostly impressions of chains of his past clutched his throat. He could barely recall anything but the pain and the harsh words pitted against him by the very guards sworn to protect the family.

His body, as quickly as it began expanding, stopped engulfing the grove they were in, however Jason could tell he wasn’t shrinking back to normal. A frightful thought raced through his mind, his stomach churned at the thought of him being stuck as a gigantic beast daring to feel anything other than dismay.

His mind, clouded and unable to think of anything other than the pain he’d been enduring his whole life, he could hardly hear Natasha’s voice getting closer to him. Though he managed to understand some of her words as he could feel a tiny tug pull on his sleeve. “Your knuckles are going pale,” Natasha’s voice said to him, “Unclench them and breathe hun, you’re safe.” Jason swallowed, and uncurled his fingers as she requested. As he was comforted by her presence, he couldn’t help the guilt boiling up inside himself for putting her in not only an uncomfortable situation, but a dangerous one at that. He tried to speak up, but he couldn’t find the strength to talk through his hyperventilating. Immediately he was soothed by pats on the edge of his forearm which felt as if a swallow decided to perch on his arm. “Come on, deeeep breaths,” Natasha encouraged as she demonstrated herself while speaking, “Nice and sloowwww.” He struggled to find a moment, but when he did, he took a long deep breath of air and shakily released it. Feeling was beginning to return to his body as he could sense the small blades of grass on the ground and the wetness on his cheeks. Despite him re-gaining his senses, he still refused to let himself have his vision back. Deep down he knew that whatever he was going to see, it would probably make him pass out completely. Jason managed to clear his throat and speak with a pathetic whimper in his tone.

“I-I am so sorry,” Jason said, “Th-this is very unbecoming of me… Hells, I ruined everything didn’t I?” He choked back tears, and tried his best to hold sobs. He heard a quiet chuckle that was paired with an out of place sniff, “Nobody looks dashing crying,” her voice spoke, “And that doesn’t matter… trust me you’ve done nothing wrong.” Jason could sense her presence lean over his wrist, her gentle touch petting the back of his hand just as if someone was tracing their smallest finger tip across it. “Didn’t realize how bad this could get..” Natasha wearily commented as Jason steadied himself. The giant heaved a sigh while his head hung low. “I told you,” Jason spoke, “This is why I have to be locked away…”

“That’s not what I mean.” Natasha sighed as she momentarily retracted the touch Jason yearned for. Before he could ask what she meant by that, he felt the air swish over his wrist and then a tug at his side of his waist. He’d almost forgotten he was curled up against an oak tree for a moment. He felt pressure wobble on top of his stomach, a sensation he’d yet to feel when he was rarely large like this. His ears then caught Natasha’s small voice in front of him, confirming the presence that was now standing on him was her. “Please open your eyes,” Natasha said, “I need you to look at me.” “B-b-but what if I-” Jason stammered. “It’s going to be okay,” Natasha re-affirmed, “I promise.” He froze. Two trains of thought had collided in his mind. On one hand he was worried if he were to see her beautiful face again he’d destroy the entire forest however, Jason’s trust had been handed over to Natasha many times before and if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have had the courage to step outside the prison he thought he could never leave. It may have been naïve of Jason, but ever since they’ve met that fateful day he felt like he her judgment was solid. Especially how annoying she could be with her earnestness. Jason gently let his breath go, not wanting to blow away his passenger off of his chest, and opened his eye lids gingerly.

He had to adjust his eyes from the afternoon sun shining, though once he managed to blink a couple of times to clear his vision. The scene was just about the same before he closed his eyes; his body took up nearly half of the shore of the lake and the picnic blanket could have easily been mistaken as a handkerchief. However, when his pupils focused on the figure in front of his face and standing just below his lower ribs, he noticed that an adorably small Natasha was staring right at him. Though was she… crying?

----

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Natasha thought if maybe, just maybe, the prince would find happiness by stepping outside and figuring out that he didn’t need to be miserable for the rest of his life just because he was cursed. Sure, it would probably be rough the first few trips into the woods but what she failed to account for was the situation of him having a full blown panic attack. Self love evidently wasn’t easy to teach. Especially if she didn’t practice much of it herself.

Guilt riddled her soul when she saw that mortified face and subsequent tears that followed. How could she have not realized that he was going to rehash horrible feelings from growing to a height that he was forbidden to be at? In hindsight, she shouldn’t have been so selfish and taken this entire going outside thing slowly. Her need to see his charming face up close had forced him to confront his issues far before he was ready to. Did she even have the right to trample on his boundaries like that? These thoughts boiled over as her tears betrayed her when she stood face-to-face with Jason.

“I’m.. so sorry.”

She choked up, staring into those enormous doe eyes. His eyes were slightly red from the tears that were going down his cheeks. The uncertain twitches of his lower eyelids steadied themselves once his pupils managed to dilate upon seeing her. Jason spoke up in a gentle whisper, which at this size sounded more like it was at a speaking level with a rasp in his tone.

“Oh no no no…” Jason said, “You didn’t do anything that heeds an apology.” Natasha clenched her fists, she felt like the giant prince was just being cordial for her sake. She was hoping to hear him say that she forgives her miss-step. Her head shook. “You don’t have to be so undeservedly kind to me,” Natasha said through tears, “I messed up big time and took away your sense of safety from you… Now you’re suffering.” A lavender smelling huff of wind blew through her hair, a moment of disbelief passed before Jason spoke up again, “I’m not suffering- well, not by your hands anyway.” When Natasha didn’t give a response, the large comforting presence continued speaking. “In fact, you gave me something wonderful Natasha,” Jason said with a weary grin as Natasha looked back up at him in confusion, “You gave me a choice.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha asked, wondering where the hells Jason was going with this. “I chose to come with you to our picnic,” Jason said, whipping his face a tad with a long sleeve, “I’d never have left by myself, I wouldn’t have had the courage to and would have been miserable.” “But aren’t you miserable now!?” Natasha interjected, “If I gave you anything, it was a heart attack!” The collar of her laced blouse was wet with tears, at this point she covered her face in shame. Embarrassment of sobbing in front of him had begun to dog pile onto her mind as well. Why did she have to be so ignorant and get themselves into this horribly awkward situation? Her own mind kept coming up with more cruel things she felt guilty of before..

Natasha suddenly felt something soft press on the side of her head.

Her eyes opened and the sight made her gasp, if she was seeing this right; A silky blue handkerchief folded gently on a finger tip that could have been mistaken as a small bedside table at first glance. Natasha looked up and saw his eyes pleading with her. “Uhm, “ Jason whimpered, “Thought you could use this..” Not wanting to decline this adorable man’s offer, she took the favor and dabbed her cheeks with a soft smile. “Thanks…” Natasha exasperated, “Look I’m sorry for-” “Natasha.”

“...Yeah?” “I had an incredible time with you today, Thank you for everything you’ve been doing for me,” Jason said with genuine heart in his voice, “But please, don’t tear yourself down because of my need to process… uhm. This.” He emphasized by looking down at his chest which was about as wide as a king’s bed. Natasha’s silence gave Jason more of a chance to speak his peace. "It's not your duty to ensure I'm not miserable," Jason explained, a chuckle resonating through Natasha's boots. "Your company is more than enough..." The prince's heartfelt words left Natasha momentarily speechless. Even if she didn't believe she deserved mercy, an inexplicable sense of happiness enveloped her. The sweetness of the prince's heart must have expanded along with his body. She wondered why she felt so gosh darn happy. The noble patted down her tears one more time before reaching and wrapping her arms around the finger that gave her the handkerchief, giving it a tight squeeze.

SNAP

“Owch!” Natasha pulled away from the sound of Jason’s squeal and was met with a slightly bigger hand and the prince rubbing the of his head. There laid an oak branch upon his shoulder that was broken at the stem. A brief, stunned silence passed between them.

"I, um, apologize for that—" Jason began.

“Oh no, I should be the one sorry here- I forgot about..." Natasha's voice trailed off as she too offered her apology.

A moment of pause hung in the air, their eyes locking. And then, they both chuckled. Natasha patted the tip of the finger that Jason had extended to her, a sense of camaraderie bridging the gap between them. After all, what was there to judge?

#g/t #giant tiny #heart thump #gt writing #writing #gt community #gt #giant #giant/tiny #AU #fantasy #Cursed Prince #size difference #tiny

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pleasuretrade · 24 days

Text

hi here's the very rough(!) first chapter of a fic that i'm not done with.

if anyone wants to beta or just offer feedback i would be grateful :') but i'm writing this very slowly and don't plan on seeing it done for at least a few more months

March x Healy

Summary: 1980. March and Healy take your classic "reunite me with my estranged adult child" case and may or may not wind up getting involved with a cult, irritating 80's toys, shady business, gardening, and drugs. Oh, and they're pretending to be boyfriends because that's totally a perfect cover??

Rating: 18+ for the eventual porn

Length: I'm gonna guess 30k? I'm at 15k rn and we're maybe halfway through. frankly i got no idea

Tags that aren't exhaustive and mostly aren't applicable to this first chapter, but just a sneak peek: pretending to be boyfriends and there's only one fucking bed anyway bitch, March wearing jeans

The thing about kitsch dolls was that they were supposed to be cute. In abundance they became disturbing. An uncanny noise of soft pastel abstraction, dotted with innumerable eyes, staring at you from living room walls and display cabinets. It didn’t help that almost all of them were religious; angels with halos, praying children, robed biblical figures. March felt like he might combust if he made direct eye contact with the teeming mass of holy ceramic.

“March, did you write that down?”

Holland whipped his head toward Healy, and then at their client, and then at his open, empty notepad. See, you shouldn’t have that many dolls in one room, it’s distracting. It’s weird. “Sorry, ma’am, could you repeat that?”

“Benjamin Larry Hooper. We called him Benny.”

“Bejamin….L… Hooper… Benny.” March mumbled, pen dashing across the page with a show of gumption.

Mrs. Hooper nodded at him, all patterned dress and curled hair, hands placed politely on top of their respective thighs. “He was fifteen when he left, he’ll be twenty-six now. Tall for his age, I’m sure he’s giant by now.”

Holland wrote in big block letters: DOB 1953 TALL

“This is my most recent picture of him, just a few months before he left.” Mrs. Hooper, Francis, reached across her doilied coffee table to hand Healy a framed photograph. It was obviously some kind of family reunion, the photo lined with folks like a tin of sardines. “That’s Benny.” she said, tapping a young man sitting cross legged in the very front row.

Benny Hooper looked like any other fifteen year old at a family reunion, irritated or bored or both. He had a great mop of hair, a downright halo of pitch black curls reaching every direction. The slacks and short sleeved button-down were probably not his normal choice of attire, so that wouldn’t be helpful even if the kid had disappeared less than a decade ago. The shot was too wide to memorize the details of someone’s face on top of being old. The Benny in the photo hadn’t even finished puberty yet. Overall, the photo wasn’t great.

“Very helpful, thank you. We could use any other photographs you have, too.” Healy smiled pleasantly the way he did. It was freakish, the way the guy could go from deadpan bruiser to soft-eyed teddybear in an instant.

Holland smiled along, ignoring the everpresent eyes of Mrs. Hooper's kitsch, even though he knew that there was no chance in hell they were finding Benny Hooper.

“There’s no chance in hell, man.” March lit his cigarette in the passenger seat and donned his sunglasses.

Healy tapped his fingers where he rested his arm in the open window. “We have a lead.”

“If you wanna call maybe seeing a glimpse of someone you haven’t seen in eleven years driving a truck a couple of times a lead, sure, we have a great lead. Can we stop at Hammy’s? Told Holly I’d bring home dinner.”

“Y’know, I bet I could count on two hands the number of times you’ve gone proper grocery shopping since I’ve known you.”

“That’s not true, you went grocery shopping with us like two weeks ago.”

“And you bought eggs, bread, a gallon of neon colored juice, a gallon of whiskey, and five frozen pizzas.”

“Are those not groceries? Is that not sustenance?” March waved his cigarette for emphasis.

“Anyway,” Healy redirected, taking the turn toward Hammy’s, “all we have to do is stake out the spot she saw the truck, right?”

“If everything worked out just that easy we’d be out of a job, Jack.” March took a drag from his cigarette, thanking the stars that loaded, aging ladies were willing to shill out for the most unfeasible asks imaginable time and time again. Healy let it sit because he knew it was true by now, well over two years down the line as a PI.

“Why do you think the kid really left?” Healy asked after a while, expertly flat when Holland had figured out eons ago that the guy really was invested in each case, even the small ones.

“I don’t know, too many doilies? An aversion to puce colored carpet? I wouldn’t stay long either.”

Healy ignored him. “I find it hard to believe he just up and left for no reason.”

“Maybe Mrs. Hooper’s chicken is dry.” Healy purposefully hit the curb pulling into Hammy’s, jostling March’s cigarette nearly out of his hand. “I mean, it’s not like it matters. Even if we find the kid, he’s not comin’ back. Ten fuckin’ years. Remember that girl, Arrow or Rainbow or whatever she named herself?”

Healy grunted in reluctant remembrance. They’d found her after a long, boring two months and by the end of it all she’d had to say was ‘thanks for letting me know my family's looking for me, you can go now.’ Not that it mattered much to Holland. They made out with enough money to take a couple of weeks off so they could take Holly to Catalina Island. She got food poisoning on the first day but still claims it was the best trip they’d been on in years (which wasn’t very meaningful considering they’d gone on maybe three of them since she was little).

“Guess you’re right.” Healy parked the car in the crowded parking lot. The line at Hammy’s was always so damn long. “Not getting paid to psychoanalyze the guy.” He sounded reluctant. Any time Healy couldn’t slip in one more act of Good it made him feel like a failure. It was something March secretly admired, however harebrained it was. He glanced a punch off Healy’s shoulder before getting out of the car. “That’s the spirit.”

“So why do you think he really left?” Holly asked through a mouthful of burger.

“Jesus, you two should become shrinks.” March grumbled.

Healy sat comfortably sunken into the couch, a March sitting cross legged on the floor on either side of him. “It might be useful to know.” he added.

“Right. Like maybe you’ll be able to narrow down what kinds of places he’d go if you knew.” Holly agreed.

“Our only lead is a truck. Anyone can drive a truck. I don’t care why he’s driving it. All we have to do is follow.”

“So you admit, it’s a lead.” Healy pointed at him with a french fry.

“It’s a crumb of a lead. It’s the suggestion of a lead. It’s a lingering scent of maybe a lead.”

“Says the guy with no sense of smell.” Healy winked at Holly, who bit her lip to stop her smile from blooming. “A lead’s a lead.”

“Did you notice anything about Mrs. Hooper’s house? Like, anything that might make someone want to run away?” Holly was fifteen and already putting in more work than March.

“Yeah, puce carpet.”

Healy nudged March with a socked foot. “She seemed nice. Boring, maybe. Said her husband died a few years ago and her other kid’s off at college somewhere, so the house was pretty quiet.”

“Boredom could drive someone away.” Holly said thoughtfully.

“And if it did that still gives us absolutely nothing to go on. Some kids just hate their parents, alright? Guy probably just hitchhiked to New York or something.” March said.

“Sounds nice.” Holly murmured under her breath. Healy nudged her with his other foot.

March, begrudgingly, loved the gentle way Healy mediated. Fatherhood was something Holland hadn’t really been prepared for, much less being the single dad of a teenager. It didn’t help that he was a big time fuckup or that Holly was too smart for her own good. Having another person in their lives— having Healy in their lives— was a saving grace.

Recently, Holly had started dating her first boyfriend. Or at least the first that she’d admitted to when she’d lost all plausible deniability after that time they’d picked her up from school and seen her drop some young punk’s hand like a hot iron. It was a point of contention now, between Holly and Holland. Boys were pigs, and Holland would know, he used to be one. It was one of the endless number of things Healy had become referee over, but also something Holly had adopted a near constant attitude because of.

“So when are you starting the stakeout?” Holly asked, fiddling with the cracked straw of her milkshake. March looked at Healy for an answer. He was always better at managing their schedule. Unlike March, he usually remembered what day of the week it was. Healy looked back at him and shrugged. Wasn't like they had another case on, much to the dismay of their wallets. “Tomorrow, I guess.”

Holly got that look on her face. “Can I come?” Tomorrow was a Saturday.

March shook his head. “Don’t you have normal teenage things to do? Shouldn’t you be like sneaking vodka out of someone’s mom’s cabinet on a Saturday?”

Healy chimed in before she could argue. “It’s gonna be boring anyway, Holl. You’ll be sitting in the backseat twiddling your thumbs all day.” She knew that. She’d been on stakeouts with them before. But Healy’s say was more valuable to her than her dad’s, apparently, so she dropped it.

It was late when Healy headed home, agreeing on the asscrack of dawn to reconvene and start their stakeout.

“Why doesn’t he just live here? You guys spend every day together anyway.”

March wandered into the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of rye. Their (second) rental, real house unbuilt as ever, was always so still when Healy left. Another item on the laundry list of things March tried not to think about. “Because he’s a grown man, Holly, with his own house.”

“I wouldn’t call that dump a house, and anyway it’s an apartment. He should be sleeping here and not in an attic with a laughtrack that plays until two in the morning.”

“Well then you can invite him to stay for a sleepover next time. You guys can paint nails and read magazines.” Holland wasn’t stupid. He knew that wasn’t really what girls’ sleepovers were like. One time he’d walked in on Holly and her friend eating donuts and saying such depraved things about Joe Strummer that he’d vowed to not open the door without knocking ever again. He never looked at that Clash poster on her wall the same way.

Holly scoffed in time with the ice tinkling into Holland’s tumbler.

The sun shone way too brightly for Holland. When he’d woken up he’d still been a little drunk, but now out of the house and into Healy’s car a hangover had eagerly seeped in. They’d agreed to start the stakeout before the sun came up, but March had skillfully convinced Healy to take him through a drive-thru breakfast and they were running late. He now nursed a coffee as the sun rose into the perfectly wrong spot in the sky. They watched cars zip lazily by from the corner of a parking lot.

“I just think it would be good to have a dog around.” They’d had this discussion every other day for a month now. March wanted a dog in the house for the very logical reason of alerting them to intruders, Healy nay-sayed because he was a killjoy with no imagination.

“I’m telling you, March, putting in a doggy door just isn’t gonna be enough for a German Shepherd. And we all know you’re not gonna walk it.”

“Why do you even care so much, man? It would be my dog.” And more importantly, why did Healy even have a say in whether or not they got a dog?

“I care because I’d somehow get stuck taking it out half the time. And your sorry ass wouldn’t train it. We’d have an untrained, overpriced menace tearing around the house.” The house. Not Holland and Holly’s house, but The House.

“Well, whatever, even if that was true it’d make a good guard dog, right? No one’s getting past a pent up, feral German Shepherd. Might shit on the carpet but it’ll take a guy’s dick off. Balls too.”

“You should really consider a shrink. I think you’ve lost your damn mind.” Healy shook his head, but Holland caught his smile.

“You taking new patients, doc? I’ve been told by my teenager that I’m a headcase.”

“I could make some room in my busy schedule. Gonna cost you about the same as a purebred German Shepherd, though.”

March smiled and leaned back into his seat. Absolutely nothing of interest was happening outside at all, which was just fine now but give March three or so more hours and he’d start going stir crazy and the headache wasn't helping.

Mrs. Hooper had seen the truck twice, once in the morning and once in the early evening, which gave them an unfortunately broad window of time. She’d described it as a white, short cab semitruck, maybe a GMC, with a small trailer on it, which narrowed it down almost not at all. It sounded like every third short haul semi chugging around Los Angeles, of which there were many. Very many.

The only thing they had to go off of was that the second time around she’d seen what she thought was some kind of blocky hand-lettering on the driver’s side door, done in “nearly illegible” multicolor. When Healy had asked what she meant by “multicolor” Mrs. Hooper had only elaborated as “horribly garish.” So at least there was that.

The odds that the guy driving the bespoke truck was this Benny person were essentially zero. That was about half their cases these days, desperate longshots funded by desperate rich people. The other half was still taking photographs of idiots who fuck with the curtains open. It was wearing a little thin. Couldn't people invent more important problems to investigate? Whatever. A job’s a job’s a job.

The coffee in March’s cup had gone cold just in time to meet the creeping heat from outside. He downed the tepid sludge before wrenching the little metal fan out of the back seat and plugging it in. It whirred to life gracelessly.

“Hey.” Healy tapped him on the arm, which startled and excited Holland enough that he flung his empty coffee cup onto the floorboards.

“What—what, you see something?”

A short cab semi puttered toward them from a distance, aiming for a perfectly timed red light. Healy pulled up the binoculars and squinted through them, waiting for the cab to pull into view enough to see the driver’s door. March’s breathing was shallow in anticipation.

The truck moved, and Healy tutted, and March could see the glaringly blank door even without the binoculars. “Driver’s blonde. Ginger beard.” Healy said, still staring through the eye pieces like the truck and driver might magically change. “False alarm.”

“They’re all gonna be false alarms. This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack, only the needle was never in the haystack to begin with.”

Finally, Healy let the binoculars fall into his lap. “I ever told you how much I love your optimism?”

#the nice guys #the nice guys fanfiction #march x healy #healy x march #nice guys #holland march #jackson healy

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taintedevesayori · 7 months

Text

⚰️ Diatober ⚰️

Day 3: Bride | Prompts by @fruit-of-infidelity | Masterlist

“I can’t believe it!” Kisa exclaimed. “I never thought Sayo would be the first one to get hitched!”

“Neither can I…” Sayo chuckled, feeling a bit awkward as her four friends fiddled with her attire.

She never thought she would be in this situation to begin with, let alone the first one of her friends to be married. She had been so vehemently opposed to her role as Eve for so long, why would she even think about getting married to Adam? But when she was presented with Karlheinz’s dead body, along with a sparkling wedding ring, how could she refuse?

“You look so lovely…!” Emi practically had stars in her eyes.

Of course Sayo did. Emi had been in charge of picking everything, after all. She had the best eye for events like this, so it made the most sense.

Emi had dressed her up in the most elegant white gown she could find, completed with yellow roses with the veil and for the bouquet. Normally yellow wasn’t in Sayo’s preferred color palette, but Emi insisted that it would look lovely with Sayo’s hair and eyes. And sure enough, she was correct.

Sayo was a sight to behold once Rena had finished her small amount of makeup and Emi had finished fixing her dress and veil.

“I’m gonna cry!” Kisa clutched onto Emi.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Lei chuckled.

“I think she can afford to be a little dramatic,” Rena laughed. “This is a big day, don’t you think?”

“It’s a very big day…” Sayo muttered.

Even now, she questioned if she was crazy or not. Getting married at such a young age? And to a vampire? Not to mention one of the vampires she had sworn to not get close to because of the Adam and Eve plan…But that had failed a long time ago, even though she tried to fight it…

She was happy now, though. Wasn’t that enough? Shiro would forgive her…right? She chose to believe that. All she could do now was move forward…into a new life, free of Karlheinz…with her husband beside her.

“Are you alright?” Emi asked.

“Yes,” she forced a smile. “Just a little nervous. It’s about that time, right?”

“Looks like it,” Lei nodded. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“I remember when he burst into our dressing room in the dance club and declared you were going to marry him,” Kisa laughed as they all made their way out of Sayo’s dressing room. “You were pissed. You thought it would never happen. Now look at you two.”

“Funny how those things happen, hm?” Lei gave Sayo a knowing look, considering she had also called the fact she had been living with the brothers back then.

“Yes, very funny,” Sayo rolled her eyes, but then couldn’t help but laugh along with her friends.

The five quieted down as they neared the doors Sayo would be entering through. The wedding was outdoors, taking place in a beautiful garden. Roses and all sorts of other flowers would surround them.

“We have to go take our places,” Lei smiled. “Are you ready?”

Sayo took a deep breath before nodding. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

The four girls smiled, each exchanging short hugs with her before sneaking out, making sure Sayo wouldn’t be seen. As planned, Sayo waited a minute or two to give them time to get into place. They were her bridesmaids, after all. It seemed like the longest few minutes of her life. She thought she was ready but she only became more nervous now that they were gone.

But when she finally opened the door and stepped out onto the aisle, she couldn’t help but smile when she saw her husband to be. And when Kou’s eyes met hers, a smile lit up his face as well. She had never seen such a loving smile on his face before. Her worries washed away. Their future together would be bright.

Image made with picrew

#diatober #diatober 2023 #diabolik lovers oc #diabolik lovers #diabolik oc #sayori makina #kou mukami

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innerchorus · 10 months

Note

If it's not too much trouble for you, may I ask for some creator's commentary on some parts of your fic? 👀

These are gonna be out of order and very scattered, probably, oops—

“One day, in the glorious future that was rightfully his, he would sit on the throne as the Shah of Pars, and by his side would be a consort of a suitable bloodline to bear him strong children, a son to be his heir. He kept his thoughts on the matter deliberately indistinct, but he was realistic.”

I wonder if he was trying really hard not to think about Irina here, the girl he loved all those years ago.

“Jamshid himself was said to have had a male concubine, a man of ethereal beauty.”

This is so relevant to my interests.

“Two days ago, upon his return from answering Guiscard’s summons, Hilmes had viewed those same marks with barely-concealed irritation, and in his frustration had scarcely been able to prevent a trace of sarcasm from creeping into his tone. It had been unfair; Zandeh had tried his best.”

I wonder if Zandeh had caught it, because in the manga if I'm remembering correctly he was just really relieved and all teary as he thought how generous Hilmes was. He's good at information-gathering, and he's not dumb by any means, but he might've been a teensy-bit blinded to it— what was I gonna say? I swear I had a point.

You're damn right, Hilmes, it was unfair and Zandeh tried really hard.

“It was, Hilmes realised, the closest he had come to allowing someone to attend him as he dressed since before the fire. Back then, he had been a boy not even old enough to be thought capable of ruling the country in the wake of his father’s death. The future that was his by birthright had been taken from him and along with it, the life he should have led up until this point. He had come of age in hiding, the day passing by unmarked by ceremony.”

I didn't mention this in my actual comment but... man this made me feel for him. In hiding. Whereas if things hadn't gone to hell he would've been celebrating, and it would've marked the day he comes into his own power without the need for a regent. It would've been a big day. Fuck.

Absolutely! I'd be delighted to discuss it!

Yeah, you're on the mark with that section, he's 1. avoiding thinking of Irina because it's pointless and painful (he's certain he'll never see her again) and 2. he can't clearly imagine what his future partner will be like because Irina is the only one he ever wanted. It's pretty clear that his plan was to marry her; in her absence the specifics don't matter because it's no longer about love, it's about what's required of him.

Ah, I love that you honed in on that one line about Jamshid's lover, I was pretty pleased to sneak that in there. It's a little headcanon of mine and I like to think that there might have been one or two mentions of him in the surviving stories from that time! I'm being ~*mysterious*~ about it right now but I have a drabble to finish up and post soon that contains a hint.

Hilmes's frustration is actually a reference to a scene from the novels that wasn't adapted for the manga! It takes place before Arslan reaches the safety of Peshawar, when Hilmes reunites with Zandeh. You can read it here. In the manga, we see Hilmes heading back towards Peshawar in Chapter 35, and then confronting Narsus with Zandeh by his side later in that same chapter, so Arakawa skipped the scene of them meeting up again. (As can be seen from the scene in the novels, it's actually thanks to information provided by Zandeh that Hilmes knows Narsus's location, which does help to offset some of his irritation at how little progress has otherwise been made.)

I don't exactly think Zandeh is oblivious to the fact that Hilmes is frustrated, but the nature of his very earnest response (reassuring Hilmes that no hardship is too much if it's for his sake, rather than apologising for his failings) makes me wonder if he didn't feel the full bite of the sarcasm. I'm sure he did already apologise for not being in a better position upon Hilmes's return, but he's nothing if not determined to do his best, and he clearly knows that being able to deal with Narsus himself is exactly what Hilmes wants.

Yeah, I felt pretty bad for Hilmes when I wrote that last paragraph you quoted. I was also trying to tie his relative inexperience (in particular with intimacy) to the lasting effects the fire and betrayal had on him through his adolescence and into adulthood. He's missed out on a lot. Though I do think he'd always have been the type to dedicate his heart to one person.

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #hilmes #zandeh #shadow dance

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reallygrossstuff · 7 months

Text

Jake - Wardrobifier Malfunction

What's this, an actual upload? I actually finished this a little while ago, but it's only getting uploaded now - and I have something else already finished that I'm aiming to have uploaded about this time next week, provided I can whip it into shape.

For now, enjoy this! After a storm knocks Jake's wardrobifier offline, a strange patch installation has some unpredictable effects...

Jake paced a wide circle around his bedroom, casting his eyes to Dirk every time he turned to face him. He’d been alternating between interest and boredom for the past hour as Dirk tinkered and teased at his current project, but in this moment he was decidedly impatient with the lack of visible progress being made.

“Dirk, chap, is there anything new to say about it? Anything at all, you know I’m not above begging.”

Dirk almost certainly rolled his eyes at that, but he did lean away from the control panel, rolling his stool back a few feet to safety. “I don’t wanna encourage this, but yes, actually. Think I’ve figured this out.”

‘This’ was Jake’s personal wardrobifier, which he’d gotten plenty of use out of for as long as he could remember. He’d never had any issue with it before, which made its complete failure to work that morning all the stranger. Of course, Jake had simply dressed himself as he would’ve without it, but the machine’s refusal to work meant that any of Jake’s fancier or more complicated outfits were sealed away within it, out of his reach should he want one.

Dirk rolled his chair to the side, letting Jake approach and peer at the device’s opened-up control panel. “I think your surge protector blew in that storm last night,” he explained, indicating one part of its mechanism with his screwdriver. “Looks like it didn’t get to the actual clothing database, but all your biometrics got wiped, so it doesn’t know how to actually dress you.”

Jake nodded, nudging Dirk’s screwdriver aside to look at the panel himself. “Would that just be from age, then? Stick another surge doohickey in and everything’s good as new?” It didn’t look as if anything had melted or fused, and Jake likely wouldn’t have even known that one of the surge protectors had blown if Dirk hadn’t pointed it out.

“I know you know what a surge protector is, you can’t just call everything a doohickey.” Dirk sighed, but when Jake just blinked guilelessly at him, he moved on with his explanation. “It should though, yeah. I’ll replace all of them just in case, then it just needs to get your measurements and it’ll work the same as before.”

“Excellent! I’ll let you get to it, then.” Jake beamed, giving Dirk a friendly back-slap before stepping out of his space again.

Dirk rolled his eyes, but Jake knew he wouldn’t have let Jake do it himself even if he’d asked. He was too single-minded to give over a project once he started on it, obviously he was going to do the repair himself as well.

Jake went back to pacing, his impatience reset now that he knew progress was being made. He saw Dirk taking out two slim bundles of wire, one visibly blackened, and replacing them with a pair of identical devices before carefully reattaching their cables and closing the panel up. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but paused, frowning at something on the now-visible display.

It was another minute of silent staring before Dirk opened his mouth again, speaking to Jake with a noticeable hint of confusion in his tone. “Alright, I… think that’s gonna be good to go now, bro.”

“You’re certain?” Despite his words, Jake was already crossing back to the device. “It’s not like you to hesitate over these things.”

“No, yeah, it’s probably fine.” Dirk shook his head, his expression firming up as he reassured himself. “The wardrobe just did a software update, I wasn’t expecting that. But everything looks good now, so. Give it a test run so I know it’s good and I’ll pack up.”

“Can do!” After Dirk had retreated from the control panel, Jake tapped at it to start measuring him anew, watching as holographic grid-lines and callipers appeared and disappeared in the process of creating a model of him. “I wouldn’t worry about the update, SkaiaNet is always tweaking and toying with things. Half the time I don’t know what they’re even doing in there, but it’s never anything dangerous!”

The wardrobifier let out a short, high beep, and its miniature lightshow came to a close. Once the screen displayed its usual clothing options, Jake mashed his thumb against the ‘random’ button.

Immediately after, he shivered as every article of clothing save for his underwear disappeared.

“Er!” Jake’s voice cracked briefly as he folded his arms over his chest, heat rising to his cheeks. He wasn’t shy about his body, least of all around Dirk, but being disrobed so suddenly elicited feelings similar to what he imagined being pantsed felt like. “That’s certainly never happened before!”

Dirk frowned at the unexpected behaviour, but didn’t have a chance to respond before two large cushioned pads appeared midair in front of Jake. They reminded him somewhat of the inserts for car seats, or the padding added to a practical effects costume; large shaped masses of firm cushioning roughly the same colour as his bare skin.

Jake watched, a mixture of confused and curious, as the pads floated forwards until they touched the fronts of his thighs. As if being manipulated by invisible hands, each pad began to slowly fold to encircle one leg, covering him from immediately above his ankles to just below his hips. The sensation was similar to wearing freshly-ironed trousers, for the two seconds they were in contact with his skin before they converted into pure fat.

There was no other way to describe it; as Jake watched, both of the cushions pressed firmly against his legs and transformed into flesh. His newly-fat legs sagged immediately, thankfully not disturbing his centre of gravity, but forcing him to instinctively widen his stance to give his thighs more room to breathe.

If Jake had been blushing before, now his face was red. Hesitantly, he reached down to poke one flabby thigh with a finger, his breath hitching as it sank into the flesh easily. He could feel it, as well as he would have felt anything touching his leg - this was no illusion, the cushioning had fused with his legs to give him the lower body of someone hundreds of pounds heavier. “Dirk! Explanation, please!”

“I don’t know why you think I’d have one.” Even Dirk’s well-trained facade of nonchalance had gained a crack at the sight of Jake like this, a small crease to his brow as tiny spots of colour rose on his cheekbones. “It’s like - they looked like clothing inserts, to change your figure, but I’ve never had one of these spit those out.”

“And I’ve never heard of clothing inserts meant to make you look so portly! Oh, come off it, there’s more?” As Jake had spoken, he’d watched yet another of the so-called ‘inserts’ materialise in front of him. He tried to back away, but he wasn’t comfortable enough with his legs to move quickly, and the insert simply continued to approach him until it could press against his firm stomach and fuse in much the same way as the last ones.

Unlike the first inserts, this one didn’t wrap around Jake, so all the weight it added went straight to his front, causing him to buckle forwards with a winded “hoof”. Jake had never been particularly attached to the idea of a flat stomach, but there was a large difference between having some slight padding over his abs and what hung from them now. His gut dangled down to his knees, dimpling around his navel to form two main rolls; one above and one below. The new tanned flesh stretched across his front was completely unmarred, not a single pale stretchmark to indicate that he’d gained all of its weight in the course of three seconds.

Before he had time to worry about overbalancing completely, Jake felt his briefs being tugged back behind him, and the now-familiar sensation of more inserts being pressed against him; one against his back, and two for his rear. The higher insert didn't affect him much, and in fact balanced him out somewhat as the slight increase in weight behind him made it easier to compensate for his new belly, but the individual cushions for his rear end were a different story.

"Damn," Dirk intoned, the single word making Jake's face flush as he felt twin sensations of heat before his ass fattened. Each cheek sagged immediately, though either due to some natural shapeliness or the slight support of his briefs, they remained rounder than other parts of his new figure. As he struggled to keep his back straight and find equilibrium, he could feel his underwear's waistband being settled back in place as best it could - and leaving a good third of his rear on show.

"Don't - don't you go having opinions on this, Dirk!" Jake pointed accusingly, only for his arm to freeze in place as if from a firm hand gripping him at the wrist. The inserts that materialised this time were smaller, one each for above and below his elbow, and like the leg inserts they wrapped completely around the limb, looking alarmingly sausage-like before they turned to flab and distributed more naturally along his arm. At his side, his other arm was extended for a similar treatment, evening him out before he could look too silly.

It seemed, in the procession of inserts that followed, that the largest points of Jake's physique had already come. The cushions now were smaller, padding out parts of his frame to make his fat appear more natural. Love handles were added for his arms to rest against, small bits of padding were applied to his fingers and palms, and thankfully the bust that was attached to his once-flat chest was still overshadowed by his middle and rear, though the new breasts still sat rather heavily on his gut.

Through it all, while Jake could at times move, there was the sensation of his body being pulled and positioned to better work with. Whichever part of him was being padded out was generally rendered immobile, with limbs either stretched out or held away so he couldn't interfere with the inserts as they appeared. When a small but thick ring was wrapped around his neck, his whole head was immobilised by the process, and it stayed that way as pockets of flab were applied to his cheeks - which instantly heated up just as his face had been before.

Eventually it seemed that no more changes were to be made. Jake held himself still for five seconds more, then ten, but no more inserts appeared, and his body moved as he willed it to. Letting out a sigh of relief, he looked down at himself as best he could, trying to assess the damage. "Hopefully I don't look like too much of a sideshow now."

"For what it's worth, it all looks pretty natural." Dirk said. "I mean, you're gonna turn heads, but nobody's gonna think you were messed with or anything."

For what little it was worth, Dirk was right. Jake looked genuinely and naturally fat, from his widened waist to his slightly quaking face. His whole body swayed slightly but noticeably as he shifted about, his sense of touch extended out into the new flab for a veritable wash of new sensations. There wasn't a single stretchmark or spot of cellulite on him, but somehow the new fat had kept Jake's natural freckles and few scars in place, and he couldn't find a single point where anything was obviously amiss.

"Well, I suppose that's something," Jake griped, crossing his arms stiffly and trying not to feel like a piece of meat under Dirk's admittedly reassuring lack of expression. "Even if I haven't the faintest how I'll find anything fitting now that I'm fun-sized."

"I mean…" Pushing off from where he'd been leaning against the wall, Dirk stepped around Jake to the wardrobifier's panel. "Call me a sucker here, but I've heard of this cool machine, it makes all kinds of clothes…"

"Oh, come off it," Jake said, staring the machine down with distrust. "You really expect me to put my trust in this doohickey ever again?"

"It's kind of your only option, bro. Unless you know how to alchemise clothes from scratch and make them actually fucking look good."

Jake continued to glare, but there was an unfortunate amount of sense in what Dirk was saying. Really, for all it could do, this was his only shot at clothes that fit him…

Gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to close his eyes, Jake pressed one pudgy digit against the machine's interface.

This time, there was no fancy lightshow to warn of something strange about to happen, but there were also no strange inserts that appeared from nowhere. Instead, a pair of black short shorts materialised around Jake's waist, in the same style (and covering almost the same proportion of skin) as his usual wear. They were a snug fit, hefting his belly up over the waistband and fitting so tightly that Jake didn't even realise at first that the zipper wasn't done up yet.

That changed quickly when an unseen force yanked the zipper upwards as fast as it would go, his pants button doing itself up before it could sag back down again. Jake sucked in a sharp breath, not prepared for the new pressure on his nethers as the shorts held tight against the pressure being applied to them. He couldn't hear a single stitch or panel tearing, for all that the shorts appeared to be simple denim.

Even with their refusal to rip, Jake fully expected the shorts wouldn't last; looking over his shoulder showed the waistband already beginning to sag past his wide rear, and that was before he'd even taken a step. As if sensing this scepticism, a pair of clips appeared and attached themselves to his waistband in the front, connected to two deep green elastic straps.

The straps manipulated themselves, coming up on either side of his obstacle of a gut before wrapping over his shoulders and pulling downwards to reach his waistband in the back. Like the shorts before, the suspenders seemed to be a touch undersized for him, needing to expend some of their stretchiness just to attach themselves in the first place - something that would've been a mere discomfort, if this didn't entail the straps clinging and dragging across his front and directly over his bare nipples in the process.

By the time his outfit was apparently finalised, Jake was technically modest, but he certainly didn't feel it. Even breathing put pressure on his shorts, which he had very little room in due to the suspenders keeping them hiked up, but at least they covered… nearly all of his rear end, and weren't at risk of sagging as he took a few experimental steps. The suspenders themselves hugged and hefted his belly, making it appear rounder and leaving it more prone to bounce or wobble with any shift or squirm. There was plenty of squirming, as each strap seemed practically glued to its place over each nipple; for all they remained covered, he could feel them firming up as the sensitive skin was brushed again and again by the expanding and contracting elastic.

"This get-up is a total wash," Jake whined, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops to avoid compulsively pinching and prodding himself. "I look like a specialty dancer now!"

"Am I an asshole if I suggest trying the machine again?" Dirk approached Jake's aimless shifting about, poking the new outfit curiously. Thankfully that seemed to be taking up most of the blond's curiosity at the moment, as Jake felt he'd explode if those deft fingers touched on any sort of bare skin.

"No, but you might just be a rube. I'm not pressing that button any more often than I have to until every one of its kinks is ironed out to total flatness! In fact!" Raising one arm to accent his point (and wincing as the stretching made his suspenders flex again), Jake declared, "I intend to spend as little time as possible in the same room as this beastly thing!"

Turning in the direction of the door, Jake made quick strides towards it, trusting that Dirk would follow close behind. "Come out, I'm sure we can find something to do somewhere else."

After a moment Jake heard Dirk's lighter footsteps follow his own towards the door, and the first test of Jake's new shape that its frame created. "Sure, I can probably think of a few things we can do now."

#really gross stuff #fatstuck #jake english #dirk strider #weight gain

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