#admittedly going for an hour long walk under the sun did wonders too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

typewrittenluck · 3 years

Text

as the seasons change

C!Technoblade x gn!reader highschool!au

Word Count: 9.1k

Pronouns: they/them

A/N: this is literally so self indulgent, i spent a whole day writing this because im going through my techno feels rn. it basically follows the story of oblivious Y/N and Techno throughout the four seasons :)

Warnings: Underaged drinking, Swearing, Smoking, Drugs (very brief)

Suggested Songs: The State of Grace, Taylor Swift/ MEET ME AT OUR SPOT, THE ANXIETY, WILLOW, Tyler Cole/ that way, Tate McRae/ Falling, Chase Atlantic/ Compass, The Neighborhood

SUMMER------------

The August air was thick with the heat of the almost-setting sun. Her rays beat down on the backs of the group of teens, and mosquitos filled the silences between them with their incessant buzzing.

A small crack of static preceded the soft sound of music, accompanied by the sharp smack of Niki and Jack’s celebratory high-five.

“Didn’t you start setting up the speaker like an hour ago?” questioned Wilbur, who was sunk into a half-broken lawn chair that he had found in the garage.

“Yeah, it would have been much faster if you had asked Techno” chimed Y/N from their place leaning against the above mentioned man’s leg.

His grunt of response was cut short by his little brother, Tommy, bursting into laughter.

“Because he’s TECHno! Get it?!”

Everyone groaned and Wilbur smacked Tommy upside the head, grumbling about “shouldn’t have let you come hang out with us”

Y/N giggled at that, but took sympathy on the boy. “Aww don’t be like that Wil, Tommy, I thought that was hilarious.”

“Don’t encourage him, Y/N” Techno leaned down to murmured to them in his low, monotonous voice.

There it was. The way he said their name! The way his calf felt under Y/N’s back! The way he whispered sentences directly to them, as if it was some closely guarded secret. It was enough to bring butterflies to their stomach as they praised whatever higher being was out there for the heat of the day covering their blush.

“It’s so fucking hot,” Fundy moaned, kicking Wilburs shin from his place lying facedown on the grass. “Can we go to the pool or something?”

His request was met with a spectrum of responses, varying from Tommy’s “YES, PLEASE WILL? PLEASE!” to Technoblades indifferent shrug.

Jack took note of Technoblades open response with a shout of laughter. “TECHNOBLADE IN THE POOL! I WOULD PAY GOOD MON-”

“I’m not getting in, dumbass.”

“Why? Scared you’ll ruin your hair?”

“No, he doesn’t want us to know he’s secretly jacked under the sixteen sweaters he wears.”

Technoblade picked up the hem of his sweatshirt, making eye contact with Niki. She has a point.

“How do you wear that in the Summer?”

“It’s n- TOMMY!!”

Shrieks of laughter follow Tommy’s water gun assault on his brother. “When did he slip away to go get those?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“WHEN ARE WE LEAVING??” Tommy asked enthusiastically.

---

A crowded minivan, a stop to pick up Tommy’s friend, and a raid of Phil’s linen closet for pool towels later, the group arrived at the neighborhood pool. The sun hung low in the horizon as people spilled out of Phil’s van and began dragging the pool toys and water guns towards the gate.

The air around the black metal bars barring their entrance to the pool seemed to quiver.

“I think Wil has the pool key.” piped Niki in response to Fundy throwing his weight against the fence.

Fundy, in turn, sprinted back to the car, where Wilbur was taking inventory of snacks (and probably hiding the best for himself).

Technoblade looked down at the two younger boys and Y/N conversing in hushed whispers. All of a sudden, they screamed out in perfect synchronization, in equally high pitched voices,

“Let me innnn! Let me in pleaseeee!”

And promptly burst into giggles. Y/N almost toppled into Techno, both from laughing and the slight weariness from the heat.

The pool noodles he was balancing beneath his arms (laden with tote bags of pool toys and towels) toppled to the ground, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was Y/N’s hand steadying themself on his chest, and the way his face began to heat up almost unbearably considering the weather.

“Oops, sorry!” they squeaked, leaning down to pick up the fallen noodles.

Technoblade was burst out of his daze by the return of his brother and Fundy, who triumphantly swiped the access card against the pad before kicking the gate wide open.

The clang of metal against the concrete pool clubhouse sent reverberating waves into the air, and everyone winced as the metal continued to drag.

Pool entrances varied, Niki, on the one hand, took her time tip-toeing into the water by the stairs, while Tubbo and Tommy almost knocked each other out crashing over the edge to the deep end.

Y/N chuckled at their antics, but seeing as they had settled on not getting wet today, they picked out a chaise in the shade and pulled a book and pen out of the small bag they had brought with them.

Technoblade watched them with almost unwavering interest, unless someone happened to look his way, in which case he would quickly turn back to his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his home screen until they turned away.

From his spot under the little roof of the clubhouse, he had an almost unobstructed view of Y/N, and how they chewed at the end of the pen they used to annotate their book. Oh how he wished he could read the little notes they scribbled in the margins, or the drawings they would surround words with when they got distracted from reading. And the way that pen dangled from their lips, their tantalizing, soft lips. Taunting him, almost. And their jewel-like, bright eyes. Always so inviting and playful; like the way they were meeting his right now-

Shit

He hadn’t realized he’d been staring that intently. A small quirk of their eyebrow and a smirk on their lips was enough to make his heart give out. But not now. Not when they were waving their hand so intently to get him to sit next to them. Pretending to ponder the decision and gather his belongings, (when in reality he was just collecting his bearings), he walked over to them.

“See! You don’t always want to be alone, Mr. I’m so antisocial and I hate everyone!” they smiled, patting the adjacent seat.

You’re the only exception, he thought, his brain screaming and pushing to let the words leave his mouth. He couldn’t though, not when they could never think of him the way that he thought of them.

So he answered with a small smile and a chuckle.

“What are you reading?”

“The Picture of Dorian Gray! Remember you said you thought I’d enjoy it?” they answered with enthusiasm, that sparkle still evident in their eyes.

It warmed his heart to know that they had taken the suggestion and committed to the book, which was admittedly a pretty tough read, because of him.

“How could I forget?”

Their smile widened and they buried their head back in the book, that cursed pen once again being squished between their plush lips.

Technoblade peered over their shoulder to see that they were nearing the middle of the book, where Dorian returns from his theater date with Basil and Henry. Feeling satisfied enough that they were invested in the story, given their gasp and furious scribbling in the margins, he felt it safe enough to stare at them under the orange-tinged glow of the sunset.

Of course, he forgot about the crowd of his friends who were nudging each other and whispering about his infatuation with you. The whispers reached Wilbur who narrowed his eyes in his twin's direction and made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Once dark hit and the water began to run a little too cold for anyone's taste, they began to wrap themselves up in towels and raid Wilburs snack stashes. The snack distribution was cut off by Wilburs phone, screen lit up with a zoomed in photo of none other than Philza.

DADZA!!! Read the contact name as Wilbur swiped the screen and held the phone between his shoulder and ear, continuing to hand out snacks.

“OI, where in fucks sake are you lot? It’s an hour past the devils ass why i…”

The rest of Phil’s screaming faded as Wilbur walked away to calm his father down.

“AN HOUR PAST THE DEVILS ASS” Y/N screamed with laughter, sending the entire group into raucous peals of giggles.

“Yep, mhhm, we’ll be there” Wilbur walked back towards the group, motioning for everyone to get in the car.

“Yes dad I know, yes, okay we will drop him off. Okay, bye” Hanging up the phone, he ushered people back into the car, holding Tubbo back by his upper arm so that he could sit with easiest access to the door.

After dropping Tubbo off, and then doubling back and driving around town to drop people off at various houses, Technoblade, Tommy and Wilbur were alone in the car with Y/N.

“Here. Here. WIL! Pull over!”

The van screeched to a halt as Y/N clambered over Tommy’s long legs, almost falling out onto the pavement. They leaned against the door of the passenger seat, thanking Wilbur and bidding farewell to the brothers. Just before they stepped away, Technoblade leaned down and kissed the crown of their head where it was leaning against his open window. Their stunned expression was lost in the dark and the window slid shut as Wilbur slammed the gas pedal to make it back in time before his dad’s curfew.

“What the fuck was that”

Technoblade gave him a glare, which lost its effectiveness when paired with the burning red blush flooding his face and neck, highlighted under the harsh white lights of the car. He turned his face away and resigned to staring out the window, the night air filtering through the small crack giving his face a little bit of relief.

“Okay at least tell me, are you together?”

“No.”

“But he likes them!” piped up Tommy from the back seat, looking up from his phone where he was playing a game.

“No I- I don’t” Damnit The crack in his voice gave it away.

Wilbur, sensing that it seemed to be more of a sensitive topic than he thought, decided to drop the subject for the time being, and Tommy was already absorbed back in his game.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence as they raced against time and the rules of Philza Minecraft.

AUTUMN----------------------

School started a few weeks after the pool night, which was followed by many late nights and summer fun by the friends, the knowledge that half of them would be away to college next year heavy in the atmosphere. To say the least, Junior year was not treating Y/N well. They were almost always working on homework, if not doing SAT prep, and they rarely went out with their friends. The only time Technoblade got to see them was during his AP Lit class, and because of it, he considered himself the luckiest man in the world. Ms. Ren’s Literature classroom was the only place Technoblade seemed to see the old Y/N, the one from over the summer who got enthusiastic over books and gave him playful punches when he was a little too mean to their friends. Now, the only Y/N he saw was a stressed, tired person who was always carrying an energy drink in one hand and a stack of homework in the other. Except for in Lit. Y/n’s eyes would brighten as they discussed the reading from the previous night and their legs would jostle Technoblades from under their shared table to show him an annotation they had made. Technoblade assumed they were just rejuvenated from the literature, never once letting the thought cross his mind that maybe, just maybe, he was part of the equation too.

On the rare occasion that they would hang out with their friends, they would be easily prone to tears and every conversation would be redirected to how tired and stressed they were. Of course, Technoblade wanted them to be happy, and felt enormous empathy for his friend in the harshest year of high school, but he had suddenly become hyper-aware that the clock was ticking on his time left with them. He was a senior this year, and while Y/N still had a year left to go, Technoblade would be on his way to college, perhaps out of the country, in less than a year. It wasn’t wrong to want to make the most of his time with them.

It didn’t help that this internal time bomb was also counting down the opportunities he had left to tell them how he felt.

-----

He decided to get to them when they were in a good mood, and more likely to say yes. After Ms. Ren had finished assigning the reading due by Monday, he turned to the beautiful person who sat next to him and muttered in a low voice,

“How’s your weekend looking?”

They looked up with a bright smile and whispered back

“I have tons of homework but I should be able to knock it out with a good day of work. Why? What do you have in mind?”

He knew this was the right time to ask you.

“Just be ready by 4pm on Saturday.”

----

Technoblade sat on the edge of his usually neat bed, now strewn with almost every sweater he owned. He was picking a stray piece of lint from the sweater nearest to him when he saw his brother walk past, then backtrack out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s got you all indecisive?” Wilbur asked, gesturing vaguely to the sweaters and random articles of clothing adorning his room.

“Wait! Is today your date with Y/N?”

“It’s not a date.” grumbled Technoblade.

“Then why are you so stressed about what to wear?” he replied with raised eyebrows.

Technoblade groaned and threw himself on top of the pile of wool on his bed. “I just need this to be perfect. Y/N needs a break, and they deserve everything to be just right.”

“And you want to impress them” sang Wilbur, now nudging Techno aside to sift through his sweaters.

Technoblades noise of indignation was muffled as Wilbur threw a cream colored sweatshirt at his face.

“What about this?”

“I couldn’t find what to wear it with.”

Wilburs sigh rang through Technoblades room as he opened the closet, now in his proper mindset as the family fashion consultant. Garment after garment was thrown in Techno’s general direction, and he leaned and reached to grab them all.

“Try that”

Technoblade walked out of the bathroom to find Wilbur rummaging through his jewelry.

“When did I say it was fine for you to go through my stuff?” asked Technoblade, shoving Wilbur away. Wilbur shrugged in response, motioning for Techno to open his hand so that he could drop his selection of rings and necklaces into his open palm.

As Wilbur walked out the door, he thought he heard a faint “thank you”, and smiled to himself.

-----

“This is elaborate”

“I’m a dynamic man Y/N.”

Y/N laughed at his response to the back seat of Technoblades car, which was filled with “supplies” for the evening.

“That outfit sure is dynamic.”

“Why?” Technoblade asked nervously, drumming slightly on the steering wheel. “Do you like it?”

“I love it! I didn’t think you could get any hotter but you somehow pulled it off!”

Realizing what they said, Y/N’s cheeks flushed a deep red and they began to pick at their flannel. As soon as Technoblades surprise wore off, and the butterflies faded back to the dull sensation that always seemed to linger when he was around them, he let out a snort of laughter. That sent both of them into a fit which continued until Technoblade hit a pothole from laughing so hard.

Y/N’s momentary fear only made them laugh harder, but Technoblade attempted to quell himself before he no longer had four functioning tires.

“Do I get to know where you’re taking me?” Y/N asked. They had driven a little ways out from the city, to the vaguely familiar areas that one only drives by when they’re leaving town.

“Yes.” He replied, slowing the car into a small parking lot. “Because we’re here.”

The pair entered the small bookshop and a bell rang overhead. The store smelled of dust and books and Technoblade saw Y/N breathing the scent in like a breath of new life. Of course, this ended up in a small coughing fit which he pulled them out of with a few pats to their upper back.

“Okay we are on somewhat of a schedule, so I need you to go get a book. Any book, and meet me back at the register in 10 minutes.” He said, grabbing them by the shoulders and making direct eye contact. “Okay, Go!”

And they both got lost in the mazes of words.

At 4:30 sharp, Y/N found Technoblade waiting for them at the register with a stiff red hardcover. He reached out for their book as they reached for their wallet.

“Tech, no, you don’t have to buy me books I can get it myself”

If for nothing else, the way they shortened the already shortened version of his name made his heart stutter, and he was overcome with the sudden urge to buy them every book in this store. But he wordlessly nodded his head ‘no’ and paid for their two books.

As they walked back to the car, Y/N admired the way his jewelry glistened in the sun. The gold necklaces contrasting against the black turtleneck he wore under his sweatshirt made them think of the summer, when his rings would shine under the sun and in the light of their almost nightly group bonfire. Technoblade opened the door for them when they got to the car, pink hair flying in his face because of the wind. Before getting in, Y/N threw their arms around his neck in a hug.

“Thanks”

They mumbled into his neck.

He blamed his pink cheeks on the cold.

-----

“Let me carry something!” Y/N argued as Technoblade led them down the path of a park a little ways away from the bookstore.

“No.” he answered, a basket and three bags dangling from his arms.

The argument continued as they made their way down the paved path, leaves crunching underneath their feet. A little ways into the walk, when the conversation had faded to discussing the latest reading assigned by Ms. Ren, Technoblade stopped Y/N by throwing a tote bag-laden arm against their chest.

“Here.”

He parted the branches that covered a small, unpaved path that led deeper into the trees.

“How do I know you’re not trying to lure me here to kill me?” mused Y/N, already a few steps ahead of the pink-haired man on the pine-straw path.

“Yeah hold on, let me just get my axe out from this basket real quick” deadpanned Technoblade, earning a giggle from Y/N.

A few moments later, the path opened up to a clearing with a few fallen logs and a small brook trickling near the edge.

“This is beautiful Tech! How did you find this?” they asked with an awestruck expression.

He hid the way that his ears flushed with his hair and busied himself laying out the picnic supplies he had dragged all the way out here, mumbling something unintelligible.

Once he was done, he looked up to find an empty clearing, Y/N nowhere to be found.

“Y/N?” he called

He received a response in the form of a small yelp and a rather loud splash. “Over here!”

“What the hell were you thinking?” he asked, sprinting over to the edge of the stream. Their giggles calmed him a little bit, but didn’t absolve him of all his worry as he subtly looked them over for any injuries.

“I thought the rock would be steady enough to hold me” they pouted, gesturing vaguely at the rock in question, now shiny with water.

Technoblade sighed, rolling his eyes at their antics, but hoisted them up nonetheless. Once they were back on solid ground, he curled his finger around the back of his sweatshirt's neckline and pulled it over his head, almost knocking off his glasses in the process. He missed the way Y/N’s eyes narrowed and focused on the way his black knit turtleneck hugged his figure, tucked into the dark brown trousers Wilbur had dug out of his closet just hours previously.

“Are you warm?” asked Y/N with an incredulous look, teeth slightly chattering.

“It’s for you, dumbass. You’re almost sure to get sick in those wet clothes.”

Y/N’s heart stuttered at the gesture, and at the way Technoblade shushed them when they tried to argue.

He turned away as Y/N shed their dripping flannel and replaced it with the sweatshirt, warmed by his own body heat.

When he turned back, he almost lost his breath again. Seeing them in his sweatshirt, the sleeves dangling past their fingertips and their hair a little tousled from pulling the garment over their head, messed with him just a little bit. He ignored the way that his cold-nipped nose was turning redder and redder and instead gently picked up their hand to guide them over to where he had set up the picnic, next to a towering tree with a thick trunk.

Both of them were hyper-aware of the way that his fingers held theirs, and the warmth that seemed to radiate from their touch. Neither one of them wanted to let go, but as they plopped down onto the picnic blanket sitting on the ground, their grip fell apart.

The loss of contact made the October day seem colder.

The muffled crunching of the leaves under their butts filled the air as they settled into a comfortable position and began digging through the picnic basket Technoblade had brought with food. The tension in the air slowly faded as they began to eat and the atmosphere filled with the joyous conversation of the two painfully oblivious teenagers.

When they had both finished eating, Technoblade pulled out the bag that he had brought from the bookstore and handed Y/N their book. The smile that graced their lips as they mumbled out another ‘thank you’ brought another wave of butterflies down Technoblades stomach. He pulled out his own book and made himself comfortable against the thick tree trunk behind him. Y/N reached into their back pocket and pulled out a ballpoint pen, the cap of the pen riddled with chew marks.

The damn pen.

They stuck it between their teeth and let it hang off of the right side of their mouth. Technoblade felt his chest heat up as they nudged him over to share his spot leaning against the tree. He opened his phone and hit play on a mix of Arctic Monkeys and Gang of Youths, before leaning back to where his shoulder was pressed with theirs and opened his book.

Time seemed to forget its rules in this quiet little forest, with just Y/N and Technoblade lost in their separate worlds of words. The peace was only ever disturbed by Y/N occasionally scribbling something down in the margin of their book, to which Technoblade would demand to see, and they would fall into a small discussion about the topic.

These occasions slowly began to wane off until Technoblade felt Y/N lean their head against him with a thud. He looked down to see them fast asleep, half leaning on his shoulder with the pen still clutched between their fingers. He took note of the way the pen was balanced like a cigarette and the small puffs of air following their cold breath resembled smoke. Ignored the way his heart was almost convulsing on itself, he chose to wrap his arm around them and savour the moment.

Because he was aware that before he knew it, it would be over.

WINTER---------------------------

The student media center had a hushed atmosphere to it, as people took advantage of their last afternoon to study for semester finals. Winter break would let out the next day, but for the overwhelmed Juniors and Seniors now crowding the library, the excitement would not set in until they quelled their nervousness over the last final of the semester.

One of the study rooms situated in the back was now crowded with the notorious friend group as they crammed for their last final. Fundy, Jack and Niki were trading around their history notes, Wilbur and Minx were arguing over the proper situation of a unit circle, and Technoblade was flash quizzing Y/N on the Polyatomic ions. Their frantic studying was interrupted by their friend, George, who had gotten bored of watching his two best friends during their last football practice of the semester. He quietly walked in and took a seat in the corner, pulling out a notebook and studying something or the other.

“Why aren't Dream and Sapnap here cramming with us?” Minx asked George.

“They have their ‘weightlifting’ final tomorrow” seethed George, most likely jealous of his friends’ somewhat pointless final.

Everyone laughed, and some groans of similar jealousy rang through the air right before the cracking loudspeaker of the school crunched to life, announcing that the doors would close at 6:00. Y/N looked down at their watch face, which read 5:45.

“Fuck, I’m never going to learn these charges! Don’t even get me started on the fact that I don’t have the solubility rules memorized!” squeaked Y/N in frustration. Everyone gave them a sympathetic look, knowing the rigorous emotional and mental demands of taking AP Chemistry.

“Don’t worry, you still have the whole night to study!” consoled Fundy.

Technoblade felt his heart break at the way their eyes filled with tears of frustration.

“My siblings scream way too much, I can never concentrate at home”

“Come study at our house!” exclaimed Wilbur. “We can kick Tommy out so he won’t bother you!”

Wilbur sensed their hesitation and cut in before they could say ‘no’

“Come on, Dad won’t mind, he loves you! And it gives us an excuse to send Tommy out!”

Y/N turned their head in questioning to Technoblade, who grunted and nodded his head.

“I mean, if you’re sure”

Eager nodding.

“Thanks so much Wil!”

---

It was 11:50 and Phil’s living room resembled something closer to an FBI clue board, with flashcards and chemistry notes strewn on every possible surface. Wilbur had retired to bed after reviewing his Calculus notes one last time, and Tommy was spending the night at Tubbo’s. Phil leaned against the doorway and watched his son coach his best friend through the last few chapters of the textbook with a smile on his face.

“Make sure not to go to sleep too late! You need enough sleep for your final!” he called, retreating up the stairs.

Y/N checked their watch and sighed at the time. “I should get going soon.” they mumbled, beginning to collect their notes.

“Stay the night” suggested Technoblade, pulling a blanket over their shoulders to protect them from the December chill that seemed ever-present, even with the crackling fireplace illuminating the room.

“I can’t-” A yawn cut their sentence “I can’t stay, I don't have anything and I’ve wasted enough of your time already”

Technoblade took them by the shoulders and looked them in the eyes, albeit having to lean down. “You can never waste my time”

Shivers ran through Y/N’s tired body and they offered him a weak smile.

He plucked the pen that was hanging from their mouth out and feigned disgust as he wiped it on their shirt, before throwing it in the pile of stationary by his feet.

“How about you stay for a hot chocolate?”

The invitation was too hard to resist so they gave in, as long as it was “only ten more minutes”.

Technoblade filled two mugs from the pot of the beverage that Phil had left on the stove, and topped it with marshmallows and whipped cream.

Y/N took the mug from him with a ‘thank you!’, and led the way back to the living room to nestle under the warmth of the fireplace. The pair were both exhausted from the day of studying, and chose to sip their beverages in silence. Before either of them knew it, they were both asleep under Y/N’s blanket, cuddled up against the cold of the night.

---

They woke up to the banging of Wilbur running down the stairs.

“Shit, you two are still asleep?”

Y/N jumped up, knocking over their empty mug in the process. “Fuck, what time is it?” they asked, urgently rummaging around for their bag.

“8:00”

“What time is your final?” grumbled Technoblade, still half-asleep with no intention to get up until his final later that day.

“8:20” they whined, almost breaking down.

“Hey, it’s fine, go get clothes from my room, take anything you want. I’ll drive you.” said Technoblade in a calming voice.

Y/N looked at him with desperate eyes and thanked him before retracing the familiar path to his bedroom.

Technoblade cracked his back and followed Wilbur into the kitchen, intending to make Y/N a nutritious breakfast and pack them a lunch, but was met with Wilburs smirking face.

“What’s the deal?” said Technoblade in his monotonous low, pulling things from out of the fridge.

“Are we going to ignore that you and Y/N slept together?”

“Gross you perv, we just fell asleep studying”

Wilburs smart-ass response was cut off by the arrival of the person in question, clad in one of Technoblades sweaters and sweatpants and ripping their fingers through their hair to attempt to tame it.

Technoblade ignored the all-too-familiar flutter of his heart at seeing them in his clothes and handed them a yogurt bowl he put together. “Let’s go, you can eat it in the car.”

They definitely broke laws driving at breakneck speed, but they pulled into the school parking lot at 8:15 and jumped out of the car, Technoblade following them to make sure they made it to the Chemistry classroom on time. With a minute and a half to spare, they arrived at the door to the classroom, earning a sigh of relief from both of them.

Dr. Yachtrong ushered Y/N into the classroom, but not before Technoblade placed a kiss on their forehead and wished them good luck. They entered the classroom in a daze, which they quickly shook off when the tests were passed out.

---

The final bell rang for the day and the cheers rang around the school, drowning out the crunchy loudspeaker announcements to “have a good Christmas” and to “make good decisions”. Y/N had headed off to their last few classes following the Chemistry final, which had gone as good as one could expect a Chemistry exam to go. They were fairly sure they had passed which at this point, was a major win. As they left the History hallway, they saw their friend Karl leaving the art classroom.

“Karl!” they waved him down.

“HEY! Y/N!!!” he giggled excitedly “Schools out!”

“I know!”

Excited chatter filled the hallways and they bumped into Sapnap, Punz, and Dream leaving the weights room.

“How was your weightlifting final?” snickered Y/N

Punz answered with a slight push to their head. The group was shot out at the front courtyard, where almost all of their other friends were waiting.

The celebratory mood was punctuated by Karl inviting everyone over for an “Epic School Sucks Party” at his house later that night.

Y/N looked around, searching for the pink-haired man that had been flooding their thoughts more than usual lately.

He had been acting differently, nervous even, since the day they fell asleep on him at the park. Y/N was only scared last night's incident would make it worse.

“He’s probably finishing up his Latin stuff” murmured Wilbur, leaning down to their ear.

Y/N’s ears burnt a bright red upon knowing that Wilbur knew who they were looking for. They looked up to answer, but he had already gotten immersed in a conversation with Quackity and George.

The man in question came out of the front doors of the building and made a beeline for their cluster of people upon seeing them. Y/N couldn’t help but admire the cuffs he wore on his slightly pointed ears, and the way his long pink hair fell behind his-

“Oi Y/N is that Technoblades sweater?”

Screw you Minx

“Y/N spent a surprise night over last night” snickered Wilbur, wiggling his eyebrows.

“It's. Not. Like. That.” screeched Y/N, punctuating each word with a smack to Wilbur, somewhat drowned in the laughs and gasps of everyone in their group.

“Why are we hitting Wilbur and can I join?” asked Technoblade once he integrated himself into the tangle of people. The laughs hushed as everyone turned to look between Y/N and Technoblade.

“What?”

-----

The heat of Niki’s curling iron sent warm shivers down Y/N’s neck, a grateful contrast to the harsh December chill plaguing the outdoors. She blew gently on the warm hair before letting it all fall back, tousling it to break up the curls.

“Thanks Niki!” said Y/N gratefully, examining themselves in the mirror. “You’re going to have to teach me how to do this someday.”

Niki laughed, already standing in front of the bathroom mirror to apply her eyeliner. With one eye closed, she spoke to the person now standing behind her, checking their outfit from different angles.

“So really, what’s going on between you and Technoblade?”

She knew of their intense crush on the pink-haired boy, which had started somewhere between 8th grade and freshman year, but she also knew that Y/N tended to be more closed off about their deep personal life.

Y/N sighed, almost in disappointment. “Nothing. And that’s the problem.”

Due to Niki’s sympathetic look thrown their way, they fell down a rabbit hole of ranting which led them to where they were now; on the floor beside Niki’s bed with Y/N’s head in her lap.

“He always acts so weird around me. One minute he’s holding my hand or kissing my forehead, and the next he won't even look at me, or only answers in short sentences. And it stresses me out because I think he hates me, but then he does shit like buying me books just to go read in a forest with him, or staying up all night with me to study for my Chemistry final, and I just-” They took a deep breath, containing their rambling.

“I just get more confused.”

----------

Karls party was in full swing by the time Niki and Y/N got there. They were met at the door by Sapnap and Quackity, who for some reason were handcuffed to each other, and were both giggling and flushed. Y/N and Niki hung their coats on the rack by the door and walked into the festive atmosphere of the house, seeing familiar faces in every corner.

Despite the rowdy environment and the deafening noise, the party was relatively small, consisting of only 20 or so of Karls friends.

They followed Quackity and Sapnap into the living room where a semi-circle of people was lounging on various couches, passing around a blunt and playing what seemed to be truth or dare.

Ah. That’s where the handcuffs came from.

Niki and Y/N decided to play, Niki offering to go fetch them both drinks in the kitchen as Y/N found their place in the circle. To their surprise, Technoblade was there, seemingly uninterested in the game and more invested in something he was doing on his phone. Upon seeing Y/N, he gave them a smile, cheeks flushed with alcohol, and gestured to the small spot between him and the couch armrest. All eyes followed Y/N as they perched on the armrest, mumbling a small ‘hi!’ to Technoblade.

Niki returned with two drinks in hand and shared a knowing glance with Y/N, as well as a miniscule smile, before handing them their drink and taking a seat on a cushion next to Jack and Minx.

“Okay okay, In honor of our new guests arriving, Y/N, truth or dare?”

Y/N knew by the looks everyone was giving them that choosing truth would not be the best option.

“Dare.”

A small sigh of disappointment left Karls lips before a mischievous light came into his eyes and he perked up again. “I dare you to sit in Technoblade’s lap”

Snickers echoed across the group as Technoblade looked up at the sound of his name. He looked up to where Y/N was balancing themself on the edge of the couch, and with some burst of courage, that was probably induced by the alcohol, he wrapped his arm around their waist to tug them into his lap with a squeak of surprise.

After recovering from their initial embarrassment, Y/N turned to the man whose lap they were in. “Techno, truth or dare?”

He huffed but quietly breathed out “Truth”, suddenly very aware of how close their face was to his. After a few brief seconds of eye contact which seemed to last an eternity, they stuttered out

“Umm, do you,- actually, how did, how did they get you to play? This game... I mean?”

“BOO! WHAT A BORING FOOKIN QUESTION!” called Minx from the cushion she was on.

His response of how he didn’t mean to get dragged in to this “stupid middle schoolers game” was slightly slurred as he took a big chug of whatever liquid was floating around his red solo cup.

This worried Y/N. They never saw Technoblade drink more than enough to get him slightly tipsy, but they brushed it off on end-of-the-semester excitement. In any case, they would confront him when they got the opportunity to talk to him alone.

---

Said opportunity arose after the Pizza arrived, and most people began to file into Karls movie room to watch whatever garbage show he decided on running. Y/N stayed back, intending to have full access to the pizza and Technoblade, noticing this, stayed with them. Y/N hopped up onto a counter and pulled the pizza boxes to them.

“Hey Tech?”

“Heh?”

“Are you okay? I haven't seen you drink this much before?” they asked, running a concerned hand through his hair before pressing it to his forehead to check how hot he was.

His eyes closed and he nuzzled into their touch.

“I guess I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous? What do you have to be nervous about? It’s winter break” they answered, a small smile on their beautiful face.

This was his chance.

“I have to start applying for colleges.”

Fuck, he missed it.

-----

The food brought a new bought of energy to everyone at the party, and by 3 in the morning, the celebration was still heavy in the air. Everyone thanked whatever brought Karl’s parents to buy a house far removed from any close neighborhoods, so the noise wouldn’t earn them a police visit.

Loud music blared from the speakers in the living room, which had been cleared of furniture to make space for the energetic teenagers.

Y/N took turns dancing with Niki, Minx, and Jack before being stolen away by Sapnap who spun them around until they almost threw up. Eventually, Y/N ended up on the outskirts of the dancefloor, where they saw their favorite apathetic pig-boy leaning against a corner, snickering at everyone who was embarrassing themselves in their drunken haze.

“WANNA DANCE?” asked Y/N leaning towards him to enunciate over the music.

How could he say no? When they were looking up at him with those big, bright eyes and a slight sheen of sweat over their face.

-----

The party began to dissipate nearing the hours of dawn. Around 5, people began trickling out. Except for the select few who had decided to just crash with Karl.

Technoblade and Wilbur parked a little ways away from their house, walking the rest of the way and ushering each other up the tree by Wilburs bedroom to sneak back in.

It was locked.

“You dimwit, didn’t you unlock the window?”

“Of course I did you arse, where do you think I snuck out from?”

Their bickering was interrupted by a small tap on the glass by none other than a smirking Tommy.

“Leave it to him to only wake up when he wants to annoy us”

“Tommy, let us in.”

Tommy made a rubbing motion with his index finger and thumb. Looking at Wilbur and sighing, Technoblade pulled his wallet out and held up a 10.

Tommy made a ‘more’ motion

20. Then 40. Then 50.

“So generous of you lads, come on in!” he giggled, snatching the money from his brother and leaving the window open for the two to clamber in awkwardly.

Technoblade snuck back into his room, stripping off his sweaty clothes and falling onto the mattress. Before he blacked out, he saw two notifications come in.

BitchBur: I took these pictures tn, thought u might want them ;) (8 images attached)

And

Y/N <3: I hope you figure out the college situation! <3 let me know if you can hang out sometime :D

He opened Wilburs text to find a collection of candid pictures Wilbur had snapped over the course of the night. One of Y/N in his lap, a few of them laughing together over pizza, a few of them on the dance floor, and what had to be his favorite: a picture of them kissing his cheek as a ‘good luck’ for his arm wrestle with Dream.

A smile creeped onto his face and he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his brother. He set the last picture as his wallpaper before turning off his phone and falling into a realm of blackness.

SPRING------------------

“That was my very last AP Exam!” exclaimed Y/N, walking through the door of the coffee house where all their friends were lounging.

The small shop erupted with cheers as they celebrated everyone finishing their school year. The cheers eventually died out, though, as the realization sunk in. Tomorrow was graduation.

The seniors in the group, Wilbur, Technoblade, Minx and Fundy were all going off to college.

Wilbur to England, Fundy to the Netherlands, and Minx to Ireland. The one person who hadn’t decided on a college yet was Technoblade.

“Why do you all have to leave the country?” whined Y/N.

A chorus of similar sentiments left the other juniors who were scattered around a few tables that had been pushed together.

As the conversation descended into dorms and expenses, Y/N received a text from Technoblade. The shock of the ‘ding’ made the pen that had been balancing between their lips clatter onto the floor.

Apathetic pig-boy: come outside

Y/N looked around, not having noticed that Technoblade had disappeared from the table. Taking advantage of the conversation everyone else was immersed in, they quietly snuck out, but not without avoiding Wilburs keen eyes, which narrowed upon realizing his brother was not at the table.

They wandered outside, finding Technoblade sitting at one of the outdoor tables covered by the awning.

“My Yale email came in.” he said as soon as he saw them walk outside.

They jumped with barely contained joy. “What did it say?”

“I wanted you to be here when I opened it.”

Everyone knew that Technoblades dream college was Yale. He had talked about it ever since he was a little kid, screaming about Greek mythology on the school playground. Y/N knew that it was Technoblades biggest ambition to study literature at one of the most renowned colleges in the world, but they still felt a twinge of sadness. On top of losing half their friends, they couldn’t lose the one person that meant the most to them too.

“Open it!”

Y/N leaned against the back of Technoblades chair, almost falling over his shoulder as they watched the loading icon on the college’s website.

Technoblade clicked on the notification and they both read it together

Congratulations! We are glad to inform you…

“THAT YALE UNIVERSITY HAS DECIDED TO ACCEPT YOUR APPLICATION! TECH I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Screamed Y/N, wrapping their arms around his shocked figure. They placed a million kisses all over his face, gushing about how proud they were of him, ignoring the gut wrenching feeling inside of them.

“What’s the screaming about? Did you two finally get together?” Asked Wilbur as the group flooded out of the coffee shop to see what the commotion was about.

“Yale accepted me.” mumbled Technoblade, just loud enough for them to hear.

The cheers that followed his announcement almost made their small hometown collapse. Congratulations were exchanged and backs were pat, and in the mess, Y/N managed to sneak off to the side. The only person who noticed was Niki, who followed them to the corner of the parking lot where they were kicking at the asphalt with their converse. She sat down, and the two rested in silence, the April wind blowing their hair all over the place.

“He’s leaving.” He’s leaving me. They wanted to say, but they didn't.

Niki gave her friend a small side hug, somehow interpreting the sentence accurately. “He’s pursuing his dreams Y/N, you know he doesn’t want to leave you.”

“How do I make him stay? It’s selfish and I’d feel like a bitch but Niki I don’t think I can live without him.”

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“You need to tell him how you feel.”

----

The next day brought sunny skies and the enthusiastic atmosphere of graduation. They had all managed to snag themselves some graduation tickets to see their friends finish high school.

Jack, Niki, and Y/N were sitting in a Wendy’s parking lot, waiting for the clock to hit 11:45 so they could start making their way to school. It seemed empty without the Seniors of the group, as they were all at school getting ready for the ceremony. Y/N voiced this concern aloud, to which Jack responded, “We’ll have to get used to it. This is how it’s going to be next year.”

And the three fell into silence, sullenly dipping their fries into their frostys.

----

Jack, Niki, and Y/N let themselves be jostled into school with the crowds of emotional parents and kids who were already bored of the event. They found decent seats, near the front aisle and set their belongings down.

Not a moment later, they were greeted by Philza, who filed in with the rest of the boys extended family to sit beside them.

The dimming of the lights led to hushed whispers erupting from the previously rowdy crowd.

Procedure came and went, the salutatorian and valedictorian giving their respective addresses to the crowd, the speech of the somewhat bored principal, and finally,

“Without further ado, presenting the Graduating Class of 2021!”

Cheers erupted from the crowd as names began to be called.

Within the first five minutes, the boredom began to set in and Jack began a game pigeon game, which Phil demanded to be added to. The four played the digital card game until they were pulled out of their concentration by a familiar name being called. They erupted into cheers as Fundy walked across the stage to pick up his diploma and shake the Principal’s hand. The process was repeated until Minx, her eyes shining as she shook the principal's hand earnestly, then flipped him off quickly behind his back, which sent the auditorium into a fit of laughter.

Person after person was called up, until...

“Technoblade Minecraft”

Philza almost cried. He stood on his chair, screaming in excitement for his son which made the boy in question flush as he collected his diploma and took a rather rushed leave off the stage, but not before seeing the heart that Y/N made with their fingers in his direction.

The same general act happened during Wilburs announcement, except that he laughed and gave his dad a cheering motion with his hands.

---

The group spilled out onto the lawn of the school, congratulating people they knew when they saw them. Technoblade and Wilbur joined their family, receiving hugs from a very emotional Tommy. Y/N, Niki, and Jack waited behind for their friends to finish up with their families before tackling them in hugs. Screams and whoops came from the puddle of people on the floor, everyone yelling things to each other. The atmosphere was charged with happiness, and relief, and one couldn’t help but feel elation despite the bittersweet nature of graduation.

“Alright mates, party at my house!” boomed Philza over the noise.

The infamous graduation party. They had planned the two-part party in middle school, when they had had their first sleepover at the group's “hub”, aka Philza’s house. Since then, the party had become a reality and the first part would be executed tonight. The next being, of course, when the remaining half of the group graduated.

A marquis was set up in Phil’s garden, now uncluttered and full of spring blossoms. It was such a different atmosphere than it had been last summer, when their bonfires would stretch out into the early hours of the morning.

Food laden tables were scattered around the marquis, and to everyone's delight, a chocolate fountain rested on one of them.

After collecting food and gifts from various guests, the group found themselves sitting under the shade of a large tree with a rickety old treehouse balancing on it, which Tommy and Tubbo were attempting to devise a plan to get into with the help of their friend Ranboo, who didn’t seem as enthusiastic about the idea as the others.

“My flight leaves next week.” sighed Minx, leaning against Niki’s shoulder.

“I’ll be out of here by July the latest”

“Phil’s taking us to London next week and I’ll just be staying”

Everyone turned to Technoblade to reveal when he would be leaving for college.

“I’m going to Connecticut a week before the beginning of the term”

“So how long will you be home this summer?” Y/N asked, setting down their cookie.

“Between travelling and dorm set-up, I’ll probably only be here for about two weeks total.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as they pushed their head into Technoblades chest.

“I just-” sniffle “I just can’t believe you’re all leaving!” they cried, muffled by Technoblades button down.

This sent everyone into a fit of tears as they all began hugging each other for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

The moment was interrupted by Phil, who came out of the house with a camera and various props. Encouraging everyone to gather around and take pictures. Everyone scuffled around to fix their disheveled appearances and began making their way to Phils makeshift photo booth.

“Tech- wait!” called Y/N, pulling him back by the forearm. “Your hair”

They put pressure on his shoulders to get him to lean down so that they could fix his stray hairs.

Right then, looking at the way Y/N’s shoes sank into the ground and feeling their light touch in his hair, he decided. I have to tell them. This is my last chance.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I-” deep breaths, “I need you to-”

“Come on, lovebirds get in the picture!” called Phil, walking over to drag them to where everyone else was.

Y/N gave him an apologetic look, woven with the silent promise of later.

Damnit Dad.

----

The pictures had lasted what felt like eons, but between the corny props and the harsh afternoon sunlight, they held valuable memories.

But Technoblade had no interest in them at the moment, as he dragged Y/N behind the trunk of the tree they had sat at before.

The sunlight filtering through the leaves made Y/N’s face all that much more beautiful, and Technoblade struggled to tear his attention away to focus on telling them. He gathered up his courage and opened his mouth to speak.

But the only thing that came out was “OW!”

As a pinecone bonked off his head and rolled away on the ground, leaving chips of it in his hair.

“Look out below!” Called Tubbo from somewhere above them. So they managed to get in. Damnit.

Y/N took his hand and led him to the other side of the tree, away from the boys’ field of destruction. They sat down gently, pulling Technoblade down with them to pluck the pieces of pinecone out of his hair.

“Here. Distraction free! Now tell me what you’ve been trying to say because there’s something I need to tell you too.”

That gave Technoblade the perfect opportunity to gather his nerves. “You go first”

“No, it’s fine you!”

“No you go!”

It seemed as if the stars had collided and sent out particles so many eons ago with the knowledge that everything would lead up to these two kids coming to the same conclusion at the same time.

“I love you”

Their eyes met as they stared, wide-eyed and gaping-mouthed at each other. Overcoming the initial shock, they began to ramble.

“I didn’t think you felt the same way because you always got quiet around me and then you woul-”

“Can I kiss you?” Technoblade interrupted them, not really hearing their rambling through the buzz going through his brain.

They nodded shyly in response as he wrapped his hand around the back of their neck to pull them dizzyingly, tauntingly closer. He looked into their eyes one more time to make sure they were serious, but Y/N was already closing the gap between their lips. They hoisted themselves into his lap and gripped his hair to bring him impossibly closer.

But alas, in this group of people, nothing goes unnoticed or undisturbed.

“EW! TECHNO’S KISSING Y/N!” screamed Tommy from the balcony of the treehouse which resulted in whoops and cheers from everyone at the party.

“FINALLY!” yelled someone amongst the crowd.

Y/N felt their ears burn a bright red as they buried their face into Techno’s neck.

“Yeah Y/N! Get some!”

“Oh fuck off!”

A/N: i hope u guys liked it :D, also this is my first time writing with they/them pronouns so if i made a mistake pls don’t hesitate to correct me!

#c!techno #technoblade #technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader #technoblade fluff #technofluff

222 notes · View notes

hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

101 notes · View notes

kojinnie · 3 years

Text

The Impossible Request | Levi Ackerman

Based on the request by a lovely anon here. As always, I apologize for putting a little bit of angst into what was supposed to be a full-on fluff :(

levi ackerman x reader; fluff/angst; 2032 words

Captain Levi Ackerman left you with an impossible request during your last ride to the forest with him.

Throughout the whole journey Levi kept looking at you, throwing worried glances frequently at the strange way you rode your horse through the forest. A moment ago, you were about to ride yourself and your horse to a certain death offered by a cliff by the side of the trail. If it wasn’t for your horse’s trained instinct, you’d be a tragic story of a silly death by now.

Admittedly, your focus was not on the trail of the forest hill, nor was it on the hurdles of vines and fallen branches splayed all over your pathway. Levi had to keep screaming at you to keep you from bringing your horse to an accident. Your focus was somewhere else, a distant place that a soldier must not dwell within too long. The unfamiliarity of this place caught you off-guard and as evident by the harrowing way you ride the horse, it has come to ensnare you.

As the thickness of the forest started to dissipate to an open field that overlooked the castle where Survey Corps was stationed at, Levi abruptly changed his direction and stopped your way. Your horse squealed in shock and reared up in effect, almost throwing you to the ground.

The Captain immediately jumped off the horse and darted a piercing stare at you, “Get off. Now.” The way he commanded you sent a shiver down your spine, that tone – his battlefield sternness returned, something far different than the somewhat casual Levi that you have grown to be close with during your off-duty season in the castle with him and the Corps.

It was a scarce occurrence to hear him used that tone far from the warfare. You knew he was enraged. You whimpered almost inaudibly, trying to calm your own racing heartbeat as well as to calm your horse down by patting her cheek, before climbing off of her. The Captain immediately yanked your arms and brought you to the side, under the aid of a huge willow tree whose leaves were yellowing with the arrival of Autumn.

The anger was palpable on his pale face, “Are you—” he was immediately dismayed by the surprising hike in his own tone, something that was almost unprecedented of him. The captain knew that he couldn’t let his rage overcome him. He sighed out of annoyance as he came to maintain his composure, “Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“I’m sorry, Captain.”

“You were riding like you’ve got a stick up your ass.”

“I know. Sorry—I—”

“If you want to die, then just tell me. Hange can use you up for experiments.”

“Captain, I—”

There was a momentary silence looming over the two of you. Levi waited for your response but he scoffed and walked away to the edge of the hill when another second passed with your inability to bring any form of coherence in your words. Your heart sunk in disappointment.

Levi squatted and looked afar to the castle. You could see his torso heaved; it was obvious that he was trying to pace his breath from the suppressed anger. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit of what made you so distraught. The idea that a mere emotional disappointment had led you, a trained soldier, to almost kill yourself for not being able to ride your horse right, is of something preposterous. You were ashamed and girded by guilt. As a soldier, you had let emotion distraught your aptitude.

“Tell me or don’t tell me – whatever,” Levi finally broke the silence without looking at you. Your only view of him was his heaving back, “I already knew.”

You knew of it already, but his reiteration shriveled the last hope you had that the Deployment Letter you received this morning was still bound to change, “You can’t do anything to change it?”

“No. I’m a soldier, and it’s my duty to obey,” Levi spoke. You wished you could feel even the tiniest bit of an upset in his words, but there was little to none, “you have been asked for the Garrison. Effective tomorrow. You shall no longer be here when Eren Jaeger arrives. Erwin’s decision, signed by Commander Pyxis.”

It had been three years since you were assigned to the elite Levi Squad by his own choice. Within those years as well, you had seen yourself grown seasoned by the battles alongside your entrusted Captain, as you fought the mouth of deaths countless times together. Naturally, parting apart alive would be hard for you.

People of the Walls knew him as the humanity’s strongest soldier, would they gape in knowing that humanity’s hope needed to stay humane in order to be their beacon of strength? And that was your duty for him – keeping him humane. Even if it was just to learn his meticulous way of brewing his own tea, so when he was injured and bed-ridden, he would still be aided with the warmth of his favorite drink. Even if it was just helping him tying his cravat when his hand was occupied with paper works. Even if it’s just a sleepless night with him at the library as he learned the offense strategy for the upcoming expedition. You’d done all that with no words spoken of how fond you were of him. Even when your smile arose when he finally let you massaged his strained back, or when your fingers touched the bare skin on his back when you were tending his battle scars, you were adamant to let the feelings simmer in painful silence.

In keeping him humane, you must set aside what you want of him. Your childish imagination and desire to settle with him. After all, Levi was a man unbounded, and in certain liberty shall he thrive for humanity. So, you never spoke how much your heart fluttered when he rode in full-speed to save you from the monstrous titan holding you in their grasp. The way he stayed awake, sitting by your bedside all night after a near-death incident that left you barely conscious for a week. You had sworn to bring this truth to death, but you were conscious when, out of desperation, he ran his calloused fingers through the mess of your hair, stroking your temple soft with the coarseness of his fingers as he whispered in prayer, “Please stay alive, please stay alive…” and then Levi spoke of your name, calling out to what was left of you after a bloody expedition. He called for you, not in the stern command the Captain would utter in the battlefield, but with tenderness of a man bound by grievance.

Had you grown a space in your heart to love me? Was the question that hung in your throat when you finally gained consciousness after the injury, where Petra shrieked in relief and happiness, calling out for the others, and then she said, “Welcome back. We miss you terribly. The Captain has been gaunt without you.”

The question throbbed again with simple little things he did. When he shoved more mashed potato to your empty plate, “Eat more,” he would say with more of a grunt rather than a warm suggestion; The tender pat on the back when you successfully cleared your final task; The palpable look of agitation when you returned from an impromptu hunting trip with Eld in the forest that led him wary of your whereabout for two nights – in all those moments, you wished you had the courage to ask him the question: Had you grown a space in your heart to love me? Or were you just being a good leader to your comrades?

The sun was beginning to set on the horizon. The wind breezed through the forest, blowing the yellowed leaves off of its branches, drenching the two of you in the solemn noise of Autumn. Couple of hours ago, Levi had taken you to ride to the forest to collect firewood for supplies, but even then you knew that wasn’t what you rode here for. Levi sat on the dirty ground and sighed, “Come here.” He looked at you, and softly pat the ground by his side.

Levi knew that he assumed a great deal of obligation. He wasn’t daft, he’d grown aware of the murmurs that people left on his path, ‘Look, it’s the humanity’s strongest soldier – Captain Levi Ackerman!’ then when he wasn’t so well-guarded, he’d catch the way those children look up to him with earnest amazement. Those wondrous eyes. The innocence of faultless children is the thing he had sworn to protect when he braced another expedition beyond the wall, at the expense of everything that made him humane – delicacy, tenderness, warmth, and love. But then Levi met you, and since then he began to wonder: ‘What if? What if? What if?’

Levi knew the feeling he had grown to have for you was starting to cloud his judgment when he almost broke the formation to save you from the mouth of a titan. He remembered the awful feeling of riding back to the camp, with your bloodied form on his lap, to be greeted by the discerning look of disappointment from his own comrades. Later that night, as much as the expedition was a success with minimum casualty, Erwin sat him down and bludgeoned him with the fact that negated every virtue Levi had ever stood for, “You compromised the whole formation with your rash action.”

Compromised. Rash action.

The words that had brought Levi to a prolonged regret. Who he was with you, was not the person Levi devoted his heart for. Levi knew he needed to stop. His allegiance was to humanity, to Commander Erwin Smith – and not to you.

As you sat down by his side, he finally looked at you, and smiled. So scarce of the captain, but when he did, you could feel it was genuine.

“I am going to ask you a question,” Levi said, his grey eyes darkened underneath the warm dusk, “and you don’t have to answer it right now.”

You nodded obediently.

“Do you think all this will end? To live in constant fear of death, and,” there was a momentary pause in his sentence. Uncharacteristic of him, as if he was trying to fight his own fright that was starting to nestle deep in his mind, “have ourselves carrying the last bits of humanity’s hope?”

You remained silent as he carried on, “If no, then understand that your re-assignment is a necessity. For the greater good. But if yes, that you believe that this monstrosity will all end eventually, then, I hope…”

“Yes, Captain?”

Levi looked down at the soil where your hands and his were laying side by side. There was a somber smile beginning to rise from his face. He dragged his finger to tangle with yours rather cautiously. You greeted the awkward gesture with open heart, as you slithered your fingers into his grip.

“I hope, you will have the heart to welcome me home…”

“…to you.”

The words drowned you into a deafening silence, no matter that the Autumn breeze was starting to grow stronger as the sun succumbed into the night, no matter that your heart was thumping in all kinds of inexplicable agony – all you could hear was the void of nothingness, in which no matter how close you were to him, you could feel Levi drifting away from you.

Deep down, you knew that none of this walking nightmare they called life was ever going to end. You knew that each one of you was cursed to live the life in wretched reality. You always thought that he had known of it all along, out of so many people, you thought Levi would be the one to never look forward to a future of peace, for peace was an absurd concept as long as humanity was still trapped within the Walls.

And it broke your heart to gain understanding that Levi still had hopes for it. For the unattainable peace. With you.

He had believed in a future that you thought was impossible, and with it you realized that so would be your future with him.

As the sun finally slid to its resting peace, you brought your body closer to his embrace. He brought your face closer to him, he smiled before landing a kiss on your forehead. The genuine kind, of innocence that was so strange in the world of horrors. The kind of warmth he had longed for so many nights with the thought of you. And finally, you smiled at his words, “Yes, I will.” nodding at the impossible request.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi angst #levi fluff #aot levi #snk levi #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #requested

220 notes · View notes

clefairymuke · 4 years

Text

regrets | chapter eleven

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 1913

Ten feet. That's how far you had walked today without stopping to rest. Hange was practically jumping up and down, and Jean hugged you more tightly than he ever had before. For the first time in weeks, you started to feel a little less helpless. On the way back to the infirmary room, you held on to Jean's arm and limped back rather than being carried. It made you feel strong. Today was a happy day, which you had decided for yourself when you woke up, warm and cozy as you could possibly be under the thin white blanket that adorned the soft mattress. You felt refreshed; ready to work on your leg that morning, ready to see Jean, ready to make more progress. In the furthest part of your brain, you were also ready to see Levi that night. He was gone already when you woke up, like every other day, but that had never bothered you. The thought of good-morning small talk with Levi was awkward at best.

Now, you sat across from Jean with a hand of cards. You thumbed through them for what felt like the tenth time as Jean took his sweet time on his turn. He finally laid down a card, only for you to play one of the moves you'd thought out over the last five minutes as soon as he did. As the cycle started again, you found yourself looking out the window. The sun was almost ready to begin sinking, the blue of the sky becoming duller by the minute. You greedily awaited the purples and pinks that meant teatime. Throughout the day, the quietly nagging piece of your mind that wanted to see Levi grew bigger and bigger, until you finally had to admit to yourself that you were excited for it. You decided it was half because the tea was good, partially because he was good company, and a little bit because your hand still tingled when you thought of him.

Jean's turns got painstakingly longer as the game went on, so much so that you thought he was doing it deliberately. Your impatience grew as the sky turned orange, and Jean put the cards away. When he left, the sun touched the horizon.

The brevity of your alone time was unexpected yet welcome; the thoughts that possessed your brain while you sat in that room were hardly ever pleasant. You decided you were grateful that you didn't have your own bedroom -- the presence of company had become necessary in recent weeks. In that brief alone time, however, your mind did not hesitate to race. You recounted the events of the day before: Eren's anger, Levi's affection. For someone confined to a room, the past few weeks had surely been interesting.

You wondered about how it felt when he had touched you; you had many theories, but the leading one was that Levi put some sort of numbing solution on his hand to mess with you. Sure, it was out of character for him, but it was also out of character for you to do anything but dislike him. That was the theory you intended to stick beside.

Every time you heard the tiniest sound, your eyes shot to the door. Each time, you were met with disappointment. You looked around the room absentmindedly, eyes landing on the table that held only a glass of water. You leaned up as far as you could and grabbed it on two sides, sliding it between the chair and your bed. You felt accomplished when you laid back down, resting your hands on your stomach and focusing your eyes on the ceiling. You tried to push the thoughts of yesterday as far out of your mind as you could, but it was difficult. When the orange of the sky finally moved to pink, the door opened. There was Levi, as always, carrying along his tea set.

"Hey, Levi," you greeted him, a welcoming smile finding its way to the corners of your mouth. He nodded his head back to you as he sat down, his dark hair falling slightly forward as he leaned to pour his tea. For the first time, you studied the man sat in front of you. His lips were formed into a slight frown, more often than not. Though he was looking at his teacup, you knew his grey eyes looked focused, his thin eyebrows perpetually drawn down. You followed the slope of his nose with your eyes. His features were graceful yet sharp, all fitting cleanly together. The ends of his hair fell fell haphazardly along his cheekbones and ears, perhaps the one thing about him that wasn't perfectly neat.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked when he looked up, sending blood rushing to your cheeks.

"I've been looking at this room for three weeks. There's nothing new about it. People look a little bit different every day," you answered him, your face hot. You pulled your eyes away from him in search of literally anything else to look at, finally focusing on your own folded hands.

"You're a pretty good liar, you know."

The two of you sat there chatting for at least an hour before you were interrupted by a knock at the door. Levi looked at you expectantly, and you told them to come in. It was a scout you didn't recognize, relatively tall, with shaggy brown hair that fell across his forehead. He only came in about a foot, then saluted. "Captain, the Commander needs to speak with you. He'd like you to come to his office as soon as possible," he said.

Levi nodded at him in dismissal, and the boy left as quickly as he had arrived. "I shouldn't be long. I'll be back soon," he told you as he stood. He followed the boy out the door and left you to the candlelit room all alone.

---

After two hours, you had long understood that Levi was a good liar, too.

It was now pitch black outside, the candle failing to provide much light. Sleep was fighting you tooth and nail as you shifted around the bed, attempting to find even one comfortable place. Your eyes were begging to shut, but your body wouldn't allow it. You continued like this for another half hour before your mind finally found rest, closer to passing out than comfortably drifting.

When Levi finally returned, the tea was cold. He was quiet as could be, careful not to wake you as he sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair; your position was less than peaceful, he noticed, your body more sprawled out than curled up and your hair in a tangled mess. Your eyebrows were drawn in tightly, your face displaying blatant discomfort. When he looked away, his eyes were pulled right back by a sound escaping your lips. It was soft, yet distressed. He wondered if he should wake you.

You started to toss and turn, your little gasps and groans growing more frequent and closer together. His brow furrowed, and he leaned forward. He tried to make out words, only deciphering the occasional "help" and "mom." Admittedly, it struck his curiosity. He sat and watched you for a moment more before rising from his seat and laying his hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. "Hey, wake up," he said, trying to sound soft, but really only getting his typical tone across. He called your name, which tasted sweeter than it should have, twice before you finally roused awake.

You sat straight up, practically throwing his hand from your shoulder as you drew in shallow breaths. Your eyes darted around the room, vision a bit blurry, and you jumped when you saw Levi at your side. You were disoriented at best, not taking the time to speak. You noticed the tears brimming in your eyes after a moment, and immediately lifted your hands to wipe them.

"You were having a nightmare, I think. I'm sorry I took so long," Levi finally spoke up, not moving from your immediate bedside.

You cleared your throat, knowing sleep would still be present in your voice, before you replied. You looked over at him, his typical concerned expression more prominent than usual. "It's okay. It isn't your fault," you told him, laying your head in your hands. You felt vulnerable, and you didn't like it. Part of you wished Jean was here to snore loudly while you woke up in tears, not requiring you to interact with anyone.

"Are you okay?" he asked you. You noticed his hand twitch forward and then return to his side -- was he going to reach for you? You found yourself hoping he would.

"I'm . . ." you started, not really knowing how to finish your sentence. You tugged at a tangle in your hair. "Used to it, I guess. Not okay, not terrible. Just indifferent." You figured it summed up your emotions enough. Sleep had started to nag at your eyelids again, likely knowing it would be refreshing rather than restless now that you were no longer alone.

You laid your head back down and looked over at Levi, waiting for him to either reply or sit back down. He did neither; he stood there, studying your face as you had studied his only hours before. He didn't answer until his eyes finally met yours. "Do you need anything? At all?"

The look in his eyes was confusing, one you had never seen before. It was soft, almost endearing. Your voice answered him before your brain permitted it, and you regretted it as soon as it left your lips. "Would you lay with me?" You cursed your mouth and nearly vowed to never open it again. You felt yourself blushing, so much so that you wanted to turn over and bury your face in your pillow to never be seen again.

He wasn't embarrassed, though. His eyes widened a fraction for only a moment before he nodded, then sat on the edge of your bed and unlaced his boots. He pulled them off slowly and set them under the wooden frame, then stood and took off his jacket. He pulled his cravat from his neck swiftly and laid both over the back of the chair. He unbuttoned his shirt quickly, leaving only the gray shirt he wore beneath it. It joined the rest of his clothes on the chair. You moved away from the middle of the bed, allowing him plenty of room.

He didn't use it. He lifted the blanket and climbed in close to you, sliding his arm underneath your shoulders and gently guiding your head to his chest with his hand. Your heart had built up so much pressure you were sure it would explode out of your chest and leave the both of you a bloody mess. You adjusted yourself, shifting to face him and allowing your arm to drape over his stomach. You avoided looking up at him at all costs, but you could feel his eyes burning into the top of your head. This was the strangest, most foreign thing you had ever felt. The most off-center part was that you were entirely comfortable, your body more than relaxed despite your chest's unrelenting tightening.

"I --" you began, unsure of exactly what you were going to say. It didn't matter, because he was quick to interrupt you.

"Hush," he whispered. "Get some sleep."

#AoT #aot fic #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk x reader #enemies to lovers #slowburn

134 notes · View notes

falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years

Note

hey love🥺🥺

can i request smth for aragorn pls🥺🥺 prob based on this post cus hes so crazy HOT in this but yeah everything else is up to u!! hope ur having a wonderful day<3

Yes girl here we go. I hope this is alright.

Aragorn x Elven reader - Find Me

Summary: With your elven duties done for the time being, your heart yearns for a certain Ranger as he travels in the wilds of Middle Earth.

Warning: fluff, Aragorn just being a beautiful softy

Folding your arms you look out upon the great valley of Rivendell, with her beautiful elven homes, shimmering waterfalls, and never ending ability to always have singing nearby from elven voices of pure golden honey.

You truly love this place with all of your very heart and soul, it has been your home for the past four-thousand years or so, but in the recent five-hundred have you been traveling throughout the wilds of middle earth in search of adventure. But it would just so happen that on one of your travels through a lonely mountain range did you happen to come face to face with the dirty but admittedly handsome likeness of a Ranger.

His crystal blue eyes grew wide in awe and wonder as your angelic form drew forth from the woodland, it was like all troubles and fear had vacated from his body the moment those beautiful ocean irises saw your smiling face. He was undoubtedly aware that you were in fact an elf, but his heart swelled anyways and he blessed whoever would listen for a single chance in all his lifetime to have seen your face just this once.

Though this would not be the last time you’d meet him, far from it, it just so happened that when looking upon his scruffy face did you feel an intense pull to him in a way that you couldn’t explain, nor have ever felt before. It was a strange but wonderful feeling all in one, that night would the two of you talk for hours. Leading into a week of traveling with him, this Ranger seemed content and joyous with your company.

It did not take long for feelings to grow and spark into a magnificent fire, swirling with admiration, respect, trust, and love for one another. It did not feel rushed, it felt completely right, like you had waited this long for something so pure and meaningful, and were not disappointed in the slightest.

This handsome Ranger would not utter his true name until the next time you two would meet, a year and a half later after you had to assist Elrond with something gravely important dealing with some strange pack of dwarves and a quest to claim their homeland. The things you do for that elf.

Though when you returned to the wilds, and it did take some skilled tracking, you had found him once more and still looking as dashing as ever. Though this time he greeted you with a chaste kiss, his eyes so full of love and relief for your safe return to him after such a long time apart. Under the stars, wrapped up in his arms with the light of a lowly burning fire flicking shadows across your faces. Did the Ranger tell you his name, Aragorn, your heart leapt with joy once the words had parted from his lips.

Aragorn.

You would learn of his heritage and that he was the rightful king of the great white city, so far away. But just the same you would accept him anyways, he was grateful and loved you twice as much. In the next couple years would you leave for Rivendell and your duties then return to your Ranger, staying with him for months on end, the two of you soaking up every moment together with stories, fleeting glances, laughter, and the sweetest of kisses.

Though right now, standing on a grand balcony in your true home of Rivendell do you feel that familiar pang of longing deep in your heart, you miss Aragorn more then you’d be able to say with words. But Elrond has needed you recently, claiming no other elf can slay so many orcs with such stealth and precision. Indeed a truthful compliment, and yes you’ve upheld to your duties to protect the realm, but you can’t help but feel called to your Ranger.

He misses you deeply.

You tilt your head to the sky as a light soft breeze caresses your face, you can hear the familiar patter of light footsteps as they walk down the steps behind you. Crossing the opened room, the source of the intrusion stands by your side, yet he is still a calm and comforting presence, “My dear Y/N, you have done well to protect these lands in the past couple months. But I can’t help but notice how your smile seems fleeting these days. What troubles you?”

Sighing you glance at Lord Elrond, “The Ranger.”

“Aragorn.” He says knowingly with the tiniest of smiles.

“Yes. It has been many moons since last we parted, I worry for him. But I understand that I must keep to my duties here. So I will stay.”

Elrond smiles like a kind father, “So it would appear that the world would have you two meet once again. I ask you this, Y/N. Would you find your Ranger and bring him to Rivendell, I very much would like to speak to him again.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, your heart practically leaping with joy, “I would be honored.” You laugh, “Like you had to ask my dear friend, he will not be able to hide from me. I will find him in due time.”

The old elf smiles, “I do not doubt it. Your tracking skills are rather outstanding, though your heart leads you in more ways then you know.”

“Always with the wise words,” You tease, “you’re around Gandalf too much I can tell.”

“Oh Y/N.” A small chuckle escapes him, “Maybe so....but I must tell you, your horse will be awaiting you at dawn. Your weapons and travel pack just the same, stay safe, I fear more beasts lurk around every corner these days.” He warns.

“Well, perhaps it’s a good thing I know how to use a sword. And with my bow, they’ll never see me coming.” You add with a sly grin, he nods in agreeance.

“Til we meet again, Y/N.” Finally speaks Lord Elrond handing you a small smile as he turns to leave and go about his other duties.

“Farewell.”

In the early hours of the morning, just before the sun began her bright ascent into the clouds, did you make way for the mountain pass. Atop of your dashing steed, sword at your hip, bow held to your back, and determination in your heart.

To find your sweet Aragorn.

It had been many days, then turning into a couple weeks of riding and endless tracking before finally, finally, did your elven eyes land on a familiar boot print in the mud. A horses hoof by its side, not even three days old, he is close now. But as you take another few steps does your nose crinkle in disgust, you follow the scent to a tree where a dead orc is laying upon the ground rotting from a slice to its neck and chest.

Aragorn.

He was without a doubt here, the evidence is truly telling. You turn, quickly throwing yourself atop your horse before taking off in the direction of the tracks. Just as you’d thought, it would take about a day and a half to find him. His trail leading into the woods, a thicker more secluded wood, full of great green pines and giant ferns littering the opened ground. Sliding off of your horse, you walk around to her front, grabbing the leather reins to lead her forward into the unknown.

Not even an hour later do your pointed ears pick up the sounds of someone trying to dig out roots, if they were attempting to be quiet, mission failed. Not wanting to be made known of your presence, you leave your loyal steed by a downed log and stealthy walk your way to the source of the noise.

Is it him?

As silent as an owl in flight do you unsheathe your shimmering silver sword, it flashes in the dying sunlight as you take cautious feather light steps to a certain Ranger, he’s almost hilariously oblivious to your staring. You watch as he cuts out a thick root from the disturbed earth, you glance to your right and notice his horse, it feeds unaware to your presence.

With a smirk do you take another couple steps forward, he doesn’t even know, another step now and you’re an arms reach away. As sly as a fox do you bring your sleek blade to the side of his throat, he tenses immediately.

“What’s this? A Ranger caught off his guard?” You smirk, a mischievous tinge to your voice as he lets out a breath. His body relaxing once again as you move your blade from his throat, sheathing it once more.

A smile graces his lips as he slowly stands up, turning around to face you with those beautiful blue eyes of his, “Y/N.” You smirk at him. He’s so close now.

“Aragorn.”

You don’t have time to speak another word, for your king has captured you in his arms, blessing your lips with a warm kiss, it’s full of love, longing, and adoration. You can tell how much he’s missed you after these longs months apart, hopefully he’s able to tell how much you happen to feel the same. After another couple wonderful seconds does he pull away for breath, his hands hugging your sides close as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Meleth nin.” Whispers your Ranger, “What brings you to the wilds? I thought Lord Elrond was in grave need of you for something important?”

You smile, “That time has passed. My duties are done for now, I could not bare to keep away from you for much longer. It would have driven me mad.” He tilts his head to kiss the tip of your nose affectionately.

“You’ve blessed my soul once more, Y/N. My moon amongst the darkness, I am grateful to see your face once again.”

“Aragorn.” You speak breathlessly at his heartfelt words, you hug him tighter, a warmness blooming from deep within your chest, “Come with me back to Rivendell. Elrond has missed your company and I would very much enjoy having you close.”

“Then I am yours my lady.” He whispers lovingly into the evening air, your heart flutters with excitement.

The journey back to Rivendell felt much shorter and less lonely with your dirty faced Ranger by your side keeping you company and warm on the cool nights as you both slept underneath the thousands of dazzling stars. Soon enough your horses had made their way onto the white stone path leading into the great kingdom. Birds chirp happily from nearby as you both listen to the soft roaring of the waterfalls.

You and Aragorn ride up to the front, a long stairwell in front of you leading into a large gathering area, your horse neighs as footsteps be fall upon the pale stone steps. Your elven eyes glance up to find Lindir as he carefully walks down the steps, stopping on a flat platform just above more of the marble stairs.

“My Lady Y/N, Aragorn, it is a pleasant sight to see the both of you doing well on this fine morning.” States Lindir with a genuine smile.

You laugh, “You mean to say, it’s good that we have not been slain by goblins in the dead of night?” Aragorn chuckles from behind you as he sits upon his steed.

The elven man blinks, a small laugh escapes him, “Perhaps that was what I happened to be implying. These days we can never be to careful, terrible beasts lurking around every corner it seems.” He pauses for a moment, remembering what he came down here for, “Forgive me, I meant to ask if you’d join Lord Elrond for breakfast, he is eager to speak with Aragorn...I will have my men take care of your horses. You two must be tired, I will have baths prepared for you two at once. Excuse me for now, my friends.” Rambles Lindir as both you and Aragorn jump down from your horses, two elves coming to your aid as they take the leather reigns from each of your hands.

As they guide the loyal beasts away, you turn to take a step up the stairs, stopping to look at Aragorn, “Now you.” Your eyes trail him up and down, “definitely need a bath.”

He jogs up the steps, coming to a halt next to you, “Have you seem your face melleth nin.” He teases, though you don’t have a speck of dirt on your skin, being an elf does have its perks like that.

You laugh, “I don’t need to my love, I’m already the most radiant creature you’ve ever been lucky enough to see.” The most adorable smile breaks out upon his dirt smudged face as a light pink dusts his scruffy cheeks, even knowing you for so long are you still able to make him blush.

“Perhaps I cannot disagree there. Now let’s get something to eat.” He adds with a smile, a flash of excitement crossing his features as he thinks of actual real food.

You playfully scoff, “And you a bath.”

“Am I not the most radiant creature in all the land?” He teases.

Rolling your eyes you let out a chuckle before continuing to walk up the stairs, “Aragorn. Come on.” He smiles while watching you lead, feeling rather blessed to have you so near once again.

——

Breakfast had been delicious without a doubt and your bath was warm and definitely needed, even if you can’t seem to get as dirty as a certain someone. Now dressed in your normal elven attire do you wander around the halls of Rivendell in search of your Ranger who has appeared to have gotten himself lost. Well not really, you’ve more so misplaced him, this kingdom is rather big after all.

Not even ten minutes later do you find him, he’s standing on the edge of a crystal blue pool, watching as some beautifully colored fish swim around the water unbothered and free. You slowly walk into the opening of the large room, taking light steps to see if you can sneak up on him again. Your breathing is low as you skillfully take your time to cross the room.

But alas your plans are foiled once he happens to glance in your direction, his blue eyes locking onto your smirking face as he takes you all in, “Were you trying to scare me?” He wonders in that velvety voice of his.

You bite your lip, taking a few more casual steps forward as you gently touch the side of his arm, “Me? Scaring you? I would never do such a thing.” You play off, he laces his arm through yours as you both begin walking towards a balcony.

“Your absence these last couple months have been more taxing then I had first realized.” Begins your sweet Aragorn, shifting the mood to a more serious tone, “But I am glad to have you now, my dear Y/N, thank you for coming back to me.”

You hand him a kind smile, “I will always come back to you, in every lifetime, you may be the most skilled hunter I have ever known. But I will always be able to find my way to you.” You lightly squeeze his bicep with your free hand, “I love you more then life, you know this.”

His eyes look to the floor for a moment, “Are you still certain?” He asks, finding your gaze once again, though you know exactly what it means.

You nod, “Without a doubt in my heart, I am.”

He brings you to the balcony overlooking all of Rivendell in all of her grand beauty, his face true as he looks deeply into your eyes, “You know what your choice means Y/N, my life may be longer then most men’s, but I don’t want you to give up your life for mine.”

You gently touch the side of his cheek, your other hand pressed against his chest as he holds onto it tightly, “Aragorn. I have lived many lifetimes on this earth, and in every one of them alone. Indeed I am very old, but I would rather be apart of yours then suffer another three thousand alone. It is not your fault that I feel this way for you, you have to understand that.”

He sighs, looking deeply into your loving eyes, “But your life here.”

Shaking your head you smile, “My true family has been sleeping in the ground since the last great war for middle earth, all I have left his Elrond. I made my choice the moment I decided to follow you into the wilds. You are all that I want, all that I care for in this life, do not push me away because you think I should live longer.”

He frowns, “I would never do that to you, I swear it. I just want you to be happy, that is all I care about.” Oh, Aragorn you sweet man.

You remove your hand from his cheek to gently hold his arm that’s wrapped around your side, “I am, and I plan to follow you to death, I don’t believe even a Balrog could make me leave your side.”

He chuckles holding you closer, “Y/N, I do not deserve you.”

You let out a quick laugh, “Definitely not.”

#aragorn x you #aragorn x reader #aragorn #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagines #middle earth imagine #king of gondor

114 notes · View notes

kisskissbanggang · 4 years

Text

Preoccupied

Masterlist | Feedback

[3.2k, 100% smut, sub!Chan x dom!Female reader, idol!au, femdom, teasing, fingering, pegging, Sir/Miss dynamic]

Chan was notorious for taking longer to do the same tasks working late at night than he did during the day. During the day, he would be holed up in the studio for only a few hours before he got pulled away to do something else, but once the sun went down, he could be in there almost until the sun came back up. He would say he just got preoccupied, but everyone was more aware than Chan was that he didn’t like to think he was restless, and it clearly made it difficult for him to focus.

So, in abusing their powers as management, you were assigned to hang out in the studio with Chan at night as his production assistant. The angle, it appeared, was to imply that maybe if he had some help with all his hard work, he wouldn’t be up so late. The trick, apparently, would have to be that he didn’t know, so he couldn’t refuse beforehand.

Which meant that now Chan was staring at you, confused, as you let yourself into the room. He vaguely recognized you from meetings, and he spent that whole first night hardly getting any work done at all. The next night you were together, you made a point to look into it while he tried desperately to focus on his screen.

“Do you wish I wasn’t here, sir?” You asked as you hung out on the couch in the small studio, straight and to the point. Chan hung his head.

“No, it’s not that,” he sighed, “don’t think of it as a you problem at all. And please don’t call me sir. I just can’t believe management. They never had a problem before. This was always my time. That was the whole point.”

If you hadn’t been looking up from your laptop you would’ve missed it, but sure enough as Chan sat up to stretch his back and roll his shoulders, his hands slid up his thighs and you could see him subtly — but unmistakably — squeeze himself.

My time. Of course. The little deviant was in here every other night to jerk off in peace and maybe get some work done, and now you were fucking up everything. But maybe you didn’t have to. Admittedly, not only was everyone aware of Chan’s miserable work/sleep balance, but that he was handsome and eager to please, and you were certainly privy to this observation as well. You decided to be a good assistant and make yourself available. Chan rolled and rotated his shoulder again, combined with a flex in his neck to obviously try and work something out.

“You look sore,” you casually observed, “rough day at practice, sir?”

Chan shrugged and winced. “You don’t have to call me sir, really. I landed on my hand wrong when I went to slide on my knee and ended up overextending.”

“Can I take a look at it? I bet you haven’t told anyone yet.”

He smirked over his shoulder as he nodded for you to come closer. Chan rolled out the chair next to him. “What makes you say that?”

“You don’t like to cause trouble,” you grinned as you closed your laptop and sat beside him. You wheeled the computer chair more behind him and gingerly felt his bothersome shoulder. Nothing felt actually injured, thankfully.

“You got me,” Chan smiled softly. “Prognosis, doctor?”

“I’m sure if you keep off it for a night and hopefully a day you’ll be just fine,” you mused, “but maybe you can rub it out in the meantime.”

“What?” He asked suddenly, his eyebrows dubiously raised.

You raised yours in turn, hoping to take the heat down a little. “Like a massage. I give great back rubs if I do say so myself. Want one?”

Chan relaxed, but not without letting the wary look in his eye linger on you, all over you. It was almost hilarious how instantly excited he was by the prospect. “A back rub? Sure, I’d love one.”

You started so genuinely, letting the heels of your palms press into Chan’s tense back, his knotted shoulders, and he was even letting himself enjoy it. He relaxed back into the chair, his head lolling back a little before he actually groaned in satisfaction, but even then you waited to see if he would give a little more of a hint that he was enjoying it on more than a professional level.

Finally, you got your wish. Chan’s hands gripping the armrests of his chair caught your eye, just like his hips writhing the smallest amount in his seat. You would test the waters, of course, and make sure you weren’t pushing him as you scooted your chair closer. “You know, I bet you carry a lot of tension here, too,” you noted as you let your prodding fingertips run over the front of shoulders, almost down over his chest. He froze momentarily, but he quickly relaxed into you as your hands slowly led your arms to wrap around him from behind, massaging and even teasingly groping him from time to time. His eyes seemed to watch your wandering hands, even as his breathing hitched when you playfully grabbed at his defined pectorals or even teased your fingers down towards his toned stomach. Chan shivered as your lips ghosted over the expanse of his neck, but he hesitated to ask you to actually do it. It looked like you would have to keep teasing until he pushed more, and you were happy to do so.

“What are you going to do to me?” Chan finally, quietly asked, his voice wavering under the weight of his curious arousal.

“You’re the boss,” you shrugged with a grin, “you tell me. I’m here to help you, remember?” You wondered if this was it, if this was where Chan would suddenly come to his senses and put an end to all this.

“Touch me.”

Chan’s request was hushed, bashful, but you weren’t going to let him get away with it that easily. “Touch you where?” You firmly encouraged him, your lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear and making him shudder. “Show me.”

You watched, endlessly pleased as Chan timidly took your hand and guided it down his torso to the thick erection presenting itself through his pants. He pathetically groaned as he figured out you were waiting for him to say it. “I’m so hard. Please touch my cock.”

“Yes sir,” you softly cooed with a smile. Chan whimpered as you all too easily worked his pants open and got a grip on him. He keened at your touch, his hips desperately trying to rut into your hand before you snaked your fingers into his hair and yanked him to lean his head back against your shoulder. “No touching, sir,” you condescended as you pressed your lips to his exposed neck, “you’re supposed to be letting someone else do all the work.”

“Yes, you’re right—“ Chan struggled out as he squirmed, “you’re just — fuck — you’re going so fast.”

“You’ve been staying up too late, remember?” You laughed, loving his beleaguered exhales fighting to stay quiet, “It’s bad for business. You’re supposed to be getting more rest, so I’m helping wear you out.”

“But do you have to go so fast?!” Chan whined, now much more dire as you were making a mess out of his cock, his precum streaked along the length and pooling at the base. When you squeezed, he actually whimpered like a little dog.

“Maybe if you’re good we’ll take it slow next time,” you simpered before you lightly swatted the head of his cock before stroking him again. Chan dumbly nodded, clearly intrigued by the idea of doing this again before he threw his head back in shocked pleasure, only compounded as you lightly bit into his throat and surprised him into an orgasm. You let him spurt into your hands as he sighed in ecstasy, and he didn’t shy away as you made him help you lap up the mess.

Even after he curled up on your lap and dazedly scrolled through his phone on the couch for an hour, humming contentedly as you stroked his hair, Chan still walked you out at midnight, only a few hours after he’d arrived. Management was thrilled. Still, you both refused to reveal your little secret. When you saw each other at a meeting the next day, you both starkly avoided eye contact. He did look cute being a little nervous, though. It made you want more.

So this continued, every other night arriving at the studio to find Chan dutifully waiting for you to call him Sir even while you tortured his dick and made him whimper. He even played into the game. You would be Miss, just like any good assistant, and soon enough Chan learned to sit still while you ground your pussy against his thigh after you pulled his pants down around his ankles. He could even behave while you had him bent over your lap so you could milk his abused cock until he pretty much cried into his orgasm.

But it was a night where you were doing just that when he surprised you. As you gleefully soothed and spanked him with his pants pooled around his shoes, Chan seemed to writhe and squirm each time your fingers brushed up between his legs, getting dangerously close to his hole in a way that was only supposed to make him bashful, but you heard it. You heard the distinct impassioned whine you’d come to adore. His low groans hitched into a yelp as you clutched his length between his legs, your fingers on your other hand reaching over to tease his entrance some more.

“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” Your tone was saccharine, mischievously affectionate. He hesitated before nodding timidly. “Say it, sir. I can’t help you if you don’t.”

“Please, miss,” he croaked, “please touch me there.”

You saved him the added embarrassment of making him be more specific as you made him suck on your fingers anyway, making sure to force him to be nice and sloppy so he could really feel how deliciously naughty this was for you when you pressed the wetted tips of your pointer and middle fingers against his entrance. It didn’t take long before he couldn’t keep his legs shut, rutting against your lap like a slut and his cock and parted lips both drooling on the floor as you worked your digits deep inside him. Chan came so hard in the palm of your hand this time that he almost cried. You gladly held him in your arms after that, even allowing yourselves some extra time to really calm down and hang out so you could kiss his hair and let the aroused flush escape his cheeks. Management wouldn’t be thrilled, but you were, as you chastely kissed Chan goodnight on his cheek with an invitation to be waiting and ready for you next time.

And he was. Ever the gracious boss, you entered the studio to see Chan straddling his usual computer chair backwards, his legs hanging off the sides as he seemed to casually be working. It was wordless, the way you closed the door behind you and sauntered over, but you could both feel how heightened the two of you were. You plucked off the hood of his pullover and stroked your fingers through his hair before you pulled open your bag. He turned to watch now, cutely curious and eyes widening as you set a bottle of lube beside the console. Next, you drew out a modest strap-on with a small vibrator attached. You savored his apprehensive gulp, the way his hands flexed open and closed where they rested on his knees, but he nodded in anticipation nonetheless as you lifted the hem of your skirt and revealed your lack of panties. You pulled on the harness and let the vibrator nestle against your clit, stroking your rubber cock for effect before you took his chin in your hands and pulled him close.

Chan quickly got the idea as his lips touched the tip of your fake cock, and he actually let out a self-conscious moan as he sucked it deep in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing to take in the girth. You smirked as you gripped his hair and fucked his mouth, his pouty lips looking so pretty and shiny with spit where they wrapped around your length. Finally, you pulled him off of you, a string of saliva still connecting his lips to your faux dick before you turned him back to face the desk. You pulled out the chair next to him and slid up right behind him just like that first night, only this time you worked his pants and underwear down and around his ankles before you pulled his ass back towards you on the chair.

Your fingertips met much less resistance this time when you played with his entrance, and you smiled thinking of Chan experimenting at the dorm in his free time. He shivered as you grabbed the lube and applied it liberally to the dildo and you got up some, pressing a hand to the small of his back to make him arch his hips before you could tease your length between his legs.

“Please,” Chan licked his lips and groaned, not even needing to be told to ask for it anymore, “please fuck me, miss. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“Yes sir,” you smiled as you prodded the head of your cock against his hole. Chan shuddered and let out a series of broken moans and whimpers as you slowly rocked your hips against his ass, his depths gradually becoming more used to how much your length was filling him up. You both shivered now as you bottomed out, your fake cock now flush to the hilt inside him. Chan hissed our a curse under his breath, clutching onto the chair he was bent over as you began to fuck him, and you knew there was little to no need to be gentle anymore. Rather quickly, you were able to manhandle him into quite the compromising position, wantonly sucking and drooling on your fingers as your other hand teased and groped his defined chest, even pinching and thumbing his erect nipples to make him squeal.

“Tell me you like it,” you sweetly commanded as you gripped his hips.

“I love it, miss,” Chan automatically obeyed, “I feel so fucking full.” You gave your good boy a satisfied smack on his ass as you fucked him, making him beg and plead for more. And, of course, if he wanted more you would give him more. You snatched him by the hair and arched his back to pull him close, making him cry out before you clapped a hand over his mouth.

“You know what you need to do tonight, sir?” You darkly smiled.

“What, miss?” He struggled out between your fingers.

“You’ll need to make me cum first. Now I want to see what other positions I can put you in.” You tapped a hand on Chan’s hip to let him know you were pulling out before you gently grappled him from his chair. He got the feeling back in his fawn legs for a moment before you tossed him back onto the couch. He watched, rapt and entirely at your mercy as you pulled him to the edge of the seat, tugging his shoes and pants off so you could more easily draw his knees up to his chest and pin them there. Just to add more to the burn of humiliation he seemed to crave, you stripped him of his shirt as well. It was a risky move, but you were so overcome by your arousal by now, so overwhelmed by his submission that you felt it was worth it for a little fun. You smirked at his shaking eyes as you brushed the tip of your strap-on against his quivering entrance. The vibrations against your clit were working in tandem with his look of absolute ecstasy when you slid back inside him to emphasize the orgasm building inside you. “My goodness, sir,” you cooed, “this would be quite the compromising position to be found in.”

“What?” Chan asked, eyes quaking in just the way you wanted.

“You heard me,” you teased, “our strong, manly leader with his legs in the air getting fucked by an assistant like a little slut.” Chan’s eyes screwed shut as the blush draping his cheeks deepened in the cutest way, and you grabbed his cock in your hand to stroke him and make him squirm before you thrust your hips against him harder. “Say it, sir.”

“Say what?” Chan’s lip quivered, entirely at your mercy.

“You’re smarter than that,” you admonished as you jerked him faster, “say you’re a little slut, say you love to get fucked.”

“I love to get fucked like a little slut,” Chan complied, hardly decipherable through his whimpers.

“Very good, sir,” you praised, “now you better not cum until I do.”

“Yes miss,” he choked out, “yes, I won’t cum until you do.” You and Chan clutched onto each other as you were still pinning his knees to his shoulders, your other hand not letting up its relentless pace on his cock as your orgasm was climbing its peak. You were infatuated with the tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. So much so, in fact, that you were still blindsided by your climax finally hitting you.

“Fuck,” you croaked, “I’m gonna — now, cum with me now—!”Your orgasm hit you like a punch to the gut, making you clench and shut your eyes so tight that you saw stars as Chan let out a shattered moan, his cum shooting out onto his chest, his chin, his throat. He was an absolute mess, his brow dripping with sweat and his cheeks and chest still beautifully flushed, even as you finally calmed down enough to pull out of him.

Chan’s chest heaved as he fought to regain his breath and composure, but even still he couldn’t help but shudder as you knelt down and came up between his legs as they once again regained feeling. You took your time, gently and sweetly lapping up his mess while he watched, absently stroking your hair as he calmed down. Chan gratefully let you help him get re-dressed and fix him back up until he was good as new, albeit maybe a little stickier and ruffled. But as you pet his hair back into place, Chan surprised you one more time as he pulled you onto his lap on the couch, holding you in his arms before he tipped your chin down to finally kiss you.

“I know this is our little secret,” he murmured against your lips, “but I stay up too late outside of the studio, too.”

Really, you thought about it. You’d avoided giving him your number before now and you mostly only ever saw him at meetings. Any chance Chan had of trying to ask you out seemed slim, especially as he looked so sweetly into your eyes.

“Sure,” you excitedly nodded, “we’ll see.”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #skzsmutnet #sub!idol #bang chan x reader #bang chan breakdown #OOPS this turned out way bigger than just a drabble oops

472 notes · View notes

taetaemilktea · 4 years

Text

Sick in the Soop (Part 1)

Summary: Poor Jimin catches a cold while Bangtan is filming “In the Soop.” Cue some cuddly caretaking and some much needed time to rest.

Sickie: Jimin

Caretaker: Taehyung, mild Hoseok and Namjoon

Word Count: 1570

Author’s Note: Much of this fic is inspired by actual dialogue and clips from “In the Soop”! If you haven’t seen the show and are wondering what clips were used, message me and I can clip/post them! Please look forward to some sickie Tae and caretaker Jimin in part 2!

~~~~~

“hH!—hH’tSHh’iiew!”

Jimin wrapped his FILA jacket more tightly around his shoulders as he let out a shivery sneeze in the evening briskness. He and the group were stationed out by the Bukhan River, enjoying some relaxing time to themselves as they filmed a new series. “In the Soop” came at just the right time. The Bangtan members had been busy with hectic schedules and various promotions, all the while drained at the news of having their world tour postponed.

Jimin would admit to feeling run down by it all, spending a few too many nights awake into the late hours as he and Yoongi worked on prepping their new, soon-to-be-released BE album.

So, he was not too surprised to be feeling a sneezy and sniffly cold coming on. He was quite grateful to have a few days to enjoy some video games, play ping pong against Namjoon, and try out wood carving. Perhaps the relaxation would help him nip this cold in the bud. The group was to return to Seoul after a few days before coming back to the forest, and Jimin wanted to be well before heading back to work.

Until then, Jimin planned to join the 94 liners out under the tent. He had been watching Hoseok and Namjoon chat for some time from his spot inside the house. Jimin’s throat was starting to hurt from all the karaoke he had been doing with Taehyung. The last song had him in a coughing fit with Taehyung patting his back. Jimin had waved off any of Taehyung’s concerns by attributing the coughing to the last set of heartfelt ballads they had sung.

He excused himself as Taehyung cued his next song, telling him he’d see him in the morning. Taehyung waved him off and picked up the microphone.

Time for a nice and peaceful chat, Jimin told himself as he walked out the sliding glass door onto the grassy field. But it was colder than he anticipated. He shivered as the crisp air blew lightly around him, and he jogged over to his friends to sit by the fire. Hobi and Joon were engrossed in deep conversation. They looked up when he sat down, offering him to head towards the house to join them for beer.

“I’ll just sit here and zone out,” Jimin smiled. “I’ll ask for some cold medicine later.”

“Cold medicine?” Hobi’s smile turned to a frown. “Are you feeling sick?”

“I’m not feeling so good,” he admitted. As if to prove his point, he sniffled wetly and scrubbed a finger under his now red nose.

Namjoon began to worry about Jimin.

“Put your hood on, Jimin. Wear your hood.”

Jimin chuckled at his hyung’s orders. “I’ll be fine.”

“Seriously, wear your hood,” Hobi nodded at him too, noting the chilly evening air. “Wearing the hood makes a big difference.”

“I’m obedient,” Jimin complied, pulling his hood over his fluffy black hair and beginning to poke at the fire as they continued their light conversation. They were all beginning to tire, the warmth of the alcohol from dinner setting in. Hobi and Namjoon continued to chat about the weather, noting the fluctuation in temperature. Their weather-related conversation eventually turned into giggles about their plans to play ping pong, already looking forward to the championship game.

Jimin tried to control his sniffles as his nose began to run more. He didn’t want his caring, and sometimes overbearing, friends to worry more than they already were. He was planning to ask the staff members if they had any cold medicine handy, and mentally noted the need to ask for some tissues as well.

He was thankful when Namjoon suggested they play a round of ping pong before bed. It would give him the opportunity to go back towards the house where it was much warmer. He figured that a game of ping pong, combined with the beer, would be a perfect way to send himself off to bed.

Taehyung woke up to the bright sun shining into his and Hoseok’s bedroom. Rolling over happily, Taehyung allowed himself to snuggle into his pillows before heading downstairs to gaze upon all of the activities the staff had planned for the group.

He excitedly grabbed his toy boat, slipping his feet into his favorite slides and trekking down to the lake. After a few loops through the shimmering water, Taehyung whipped out his phone. He wanted his fellow 95 liner to join him. He and Jimin had talked throughout the car ride there about their plans to try new activities together.

30 minutes later, and Taehyung had heard no reply. Checking the time, he noticed the group would be getting ready for lunch. He realized just how hungry he was and jogged to the upper house to help out and find Jimin.

Still? He was still asleep?? Taehyung peeked into Jimin’s room. Walking in, he stood over Jimin’s bed as his soulmate rolled over and looked up at him with bleary eyes. Taehyung plopped into bed, cuddling up close next to Jimin. Feeling playful, Jimin tickled his sides, causing Taehyung to giggle and curl up. Laughing Taehyung rolled over so that he laid across Jimin’s small form.

“You slept for so long. How are you, Jimin-ah?” Taehyung murmured into his friend’s shoulder with his eyes closed. He paused, frowning when Jimin didn’t answer. He peeked up in confusion—had Jimin fallen asleep again? Nope.

“hH’tsh‘iiew! hH’iKSHh!!” Jimin had been teased by his nose, finally letting out two breathy sneezes while turning away from Taehyung. With Taehyung draped over his body, he had his arms pinned to his side, so he was forced to sneeze away and down towards the floor.

“Sick,” he sniffled.

Taehyung frowned, standing up to get a better look at Jimin. His poor friend had deep bags under his eyes, his nose now beginning to run from the sneezes.

“You look bad,” Taehyung stated, tilting his head to the side as he gazed upon Jimin’s pale complexion.

“Wow, thank you,” Jimin groaned. Taehyung plucked a tissue out of the box on the bedside table and handed it to Jimin who blew his nose with a sigh.

“You’re warm,” Taehyung placed a hand on Jimin’s forehead before sliding under the covers. He wrapped his long arms around Jimin and threw a leg over his small waist.

“You’re an idiot,” Jimin sniffled as Taehyung pulled him in closer.

“Why?”

“You’re going to get sick. You know that.”

“Shut up. You like this—you feel better already. I know you do.”

Jimin couldn’t argue with him on that. Instead, he nuzzled his head into Taehyung’s shoulder and sighed admittedly in content. Taehyung was warm from being out in the sun with his toy motor boat, and Jimin was chilled. He was trying not to shiver. His sore throat had only worsened over night, causing him to cough lightly.

“Did you take medicine?”

“Last night,” Jimin croaked. “It hasn’t really helped.” The cold medicine only made him drowsy.

“Poor Jiminie.”

“Can you massage my back,” Jimin murmured with his eyes closed. Taehyung sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and getting to work. Jimin sighed happily as Taehyung’s long fingers kneaded into his sore, achy muscles. He’d almost fallen asleep when Hobi walked in, pushing the door open.

“Taehyung-ah, go and get it for me.”

“What?”

“The blowtorch, the one we used last night.”

Obediently, Taehyung left Jimin to help his hyungs cook. He didn’t leave without forgetting to give Jimin’s head a comforting pat. Jimin allowed himself 5 more minutes in bed before forcing himself up to eat lunch. He silently wished that one of the other boys could’ve gone to get what Hobi needed—he had quite enjoyed Taehyung’s massage.

The Bangtan members finished a delicious and filling lunch. Tired and under the weather, Jimin aimed to spend his day resting. He had wandered around throughout the afternoon, unable to find something he was interested in. His brain was a bit too foggy to write lyrics with Yoongi. His throat was too sore to sing more karaoke with Tae. His body ached way too much to even attempt boxing with Kookie.

When he found Hobi on the patio, he smiled and sat down in the chair beside him.

“Want to paint with me, Jiminie?”

“I don’t know, I’m not that great at it,” he scrubbed a hand under his nose and coughed into his elbow.

“Me neither,” Hobi giggled, patting Jimin on the back. “But it’s fun. Here, use this.”

Jimin took the other FILA sneaker from Hoseok and smiled, already imagining a beautiful cherry blossom tree on the blank, white space. He spent the rest of the afternoon there, happily conversing with Hobi, who didn’t seem to mind the frequent sneezes or sniffles that much.

By the time he had finished his beautiful masterpiece, the members were ready for a quick dinner and to head home to Seoul. By late afternoon, the group was packed and ready to take off. Despite the increasing congestion and growing aches in his body, Jimin was feeling peaceful and content to have spent his afternoon painting with Hobi and to have some much needed rest. He knew that going back to work would only prolong his sickness, so he yearned for the next few days to pass quickly so he and the boys could return to the forest.

#bts snzfic #bts snz #sick!jimin #caretaker!taehyung #caretaker!hoseok #caretaker!namjoon

56 notes · View notes

inskz · 4 years

Text

raspberry popsicle - hwang hyunjin

pairing - hwang hyunjin + convenience store worker!reader

genre - lots of fluff, a bit of angst ??? idk i hope u cry a little at the end lmao

warnings - alcohol and cigarette

words - 12+k

summary - a beautiful stranger comes to the convenience store you work at during summer every single day to buy raspberry popsicles

note - this is the first time i finally managed to finish an english fic so i thought why not post it! please bear with the inconsistencies this was written at 3am while i was feeling rlly nostalgic abt a summer i didn’t have 🥴. enjoy!!!

-----

Hyunjin met you on the warmest day of August.

He could barely keep his eyes open, even hidden behind his square-shaped sunglasses, as he walked down the street, the scorching heat of the sun forcing him to take refuge in the closest 7/11 he managed to find on google maps.

The excessive air conditioning slapped his cheeks when the sliding doors opened. Even though he felt like his throat was already itching, warning him not to stay too long if he did not want to catch a cold, he was thankful to escape momentarily the living hell that was a summer in Jeju. Warm rays of sunlight were replaced by glitching neon lights. At this hour of the day, the convenience store was pretty much empty. The whole town must have been gathered at the beach. He could feel a bead of sweat dripping down his neck at the simple thought of all the bodies piled up on the sand. When he finally found the freezer, he grabbed a raspberry popsicle. It had always been his favorite for as long as he could remember.

At first, you did not notice him approaching the checkout, too immersed in the music blasting in your earphones. In fact, your music was so loud, Hyunjin was able to make out the bass. Indie rock, he assumed. An old fan was blowing lukewarm air in your messy hair. As you finished your umpteenth spin on your rusty stool, your eyes finally met his.

"Sorry. Did not see you there," you said, jumping up and taking off your earphones in a hurry, as if you were caught red-handed. Your boss must have forbidden you to listen to music on your shifts, he guessed. You stuffed the tangled cords deep in the pocket of your forest green sleeveless vest. Hyunjin couldn’t help but wonder how someone could look that good in this horrid uniform.

"It's okay," Hyunjin muttered but you did not seem to hear him as you were too busy taping on the cash register's screen. His cheeks felt hot all the sudden, but for once it was not from the heat of the sun.

"One fifty please". He proceeded to empty out his pockets, the golden coins landing on the counter with a loud noise. Without even glancing at him, you put them in the cash-drawer.

And as quickly as he came, Hyunjin was out the door, the burning air engulfing him again, sinking into every pore of his skin. But he could not bring himself to go home yet. Instead, he sat under the shade of the parasol installed in front of the convenience store’s window, glancing occasionally at you.

Unconsciously, a smile grew on his lips as he saw that you were already back to your antics, earphones in your ears, bopping your head to the sound of your playlist.

He did not realize how long he had been sitting here until he felt a sticky liquid running down his fingers. His popsicle had melted. “Fuck”, he muttered as he saw that his white vans were now tinted pink.

-----

You’d be lying if you said the stranger’s daily visits were not the only reason you looked forward to starting your shift at 6 in the morning while all your friends were still fast asleep after long nights of partying. He would come every day around 2, except on Sundays when the shop would be closed, to get his raspberry treat.

After a week, your exchanges still had not gotten further than the usual “hello”, “one fifty please”, “thanks” and “goodbye”. Not that you did not have the desire to, but because you have always been terrified of small talk. How you got hired despite your constant resting bitch face was an unsolved mystery.

On Thursday, he entered the 7/11 at exactly 2:13 PM and, as always, went straight to the freezer. You immediately turned up the volume of your music to silence your ridiculously intense heartbeat. Of course, you blamed it on your social anxiety. What more could it be?

While he was choosing his ice cream, you could not help but stare at his broad back. You noticed how strands of bleached hair escaped from his black bucket hat. How the collar of his Hawaiian shirt was slightly crooked, causing your fingers to ache to fix it. How the bottom of his jean shorts was getting a little bit more frayed each day. How his white vans were stained pink.

The sound of the freezer’s door slamming shut made you come back to your senses. You could not bring yourself to look at him in the eyes when he finally reached the checkout. Instead, the yellow color of the popsicle he slid onto the counter immediately caught your attention.

“Don’t we have any raspberry ones left?” you thought out loud. You only realized these words actually came out of your mouth when it you saw the boy’s eyes widen and his lips part in surprise. A wave of embarrassment hit you. He must have thought you were a crazy stalker, taking note of what he was buying every single day.

“Oh, no you got plenty left... I just wanted to try something new, I guess,” he said.

It was the first time you saw his true smile, not just the polite kind. It was shy at first, but then it bloomed across his flushed cheeks causing the skin of his nose to wrinkle and his eyes to turn into shining crescents. Never had you seen such a pretty vision. The type of vision that was making your heart ache. You wanted to answer him so badly, to keep the conversation going for hours. But no matter how hard you thought, nothing came to your mind.

"One fifty, please" were all the words you managed to say with your usual nonchalant tone. You fought the urge to slap yourself when you saw his smile slowly fading, a hint of disappointment crossing his face.

Not wanting this mortifying episode to last any longer, you quickly took his bill from his hands and gave him his change almost instantly. As soon as he disappeared behind the sliding doors, a loud sigh escaped your lips, resonating in the empty aisles. You let your head fall on the counter, your eyes already closing in an attempt to calm your nerves.

Why did you have to be so damn cold?

-----

Hyunjin’s vacations were about to come to an end, yet the heat was just as unbearable as when they started. Time had stopped. Days were endless, suffocating, empty. They blended together to create a vicious and infinite loop. The sun did not seem to be wanting to set and put an end to Hyunjin’s misery. It felt like a stifling drought interrupted his fast-paced life. Like scissors cut off his wings, violently bringing him back to the ground. No matter how hard he tried, he could not bring himself to enjoy his time off.

First of all, because it was not his choice. When the company announced a summertime hiatus for Stray Kids, it came as a surprise for everyone. It just did not feel right, not after their recent successes. But like many other decisions, it wasn’t in their power. They were sent home and forced to rest.

Mostly because he was supposed to join his parents on their trip to Jeju, but the universe decided otherwise. At the last minute, his grandmother broke her wrist by falling in the stairs and his father’s boss resigned. Nothing too alarming in itself, but his mother had to be by his grandmother’s bedside and his father had to take care of the tasks suddenly left uncompleted by his now former superior.

This is how Hyunjin, who was so used to be surrounded by seven brothers from another mother, ended up watching all the episodes of Hotel de Luna, twice, alone, in an empty beach house for two weeks straight. In the beginning, he found it kind of enjoyable. He spent the first few days sleeping-in, taking endless showers, eating snacks for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But slowly he started to miss waking up at dawn, racing to get in the shower first, fighting for the drumstick when they ordered chicken. Now it was almost unbearable. He hated the silence that he once longed for.

Of course, he thought about calling his friends and family on the phone. And he did at first, but as soon as he would hang up his loneliness would grow, multiply, swallow him whole. So, he had stopped. He also thought about going out and meeting new people. But he got so used to always having his members by his side that he forgot about how you even make new ones. He felt like a fool, not even being able to do the usual tasks of a normal teenager.

The only interaction with another living being he had was with you. Each day, he was counting the hours until he would go buy a raspberry popsicle, especially if it meant that he would see your face. Admittedly, you did not seem as excited to see his. You weren’t cheerful nor loquacious. Your whole body screamed “go away” but he still felt drawn to you. Maybe it was the way you’d mimic the drums with your fingers when you were absorbed by your music. Or how pretty you looked in that green uniform. Or the fact that you remembered raspberry was his favorite flavor.

That day, he decided loneliness had become too heavy of a burden for him. He wasn’t really realizing what he was doing when he grabbed a second popsicle out of the freezer. Afraid that he might chicken out if he thought about it too long, he walked so fast to the checkout that he almost bumped in the pile of baskets sitting next to your stool. He felt a slight relief when he saw that you noticed his purchase was different than the usual by the way you had furrowed your brows.

“Hey. This one is for you”, he said, sliding the bright pink wrapper across the counter.

Instead of reaching for the treat, your fingers started to play with the cord of your earphones. For once, you looked at him straight in the eyes. Normally you would be too focused on your cash register's screen to pay attention to him. As his confidence was melting under your gaze like an ice cream under the sun, he wondered if he actually didn’t like it better when you didn’t stare at him. Your expression was unreadable, at least for him. He had never been good at those type of things anyways.

“It must be hard to work during vacations” he added with a voice that seemed to be about to crack. He could not help but scratch the back of his head in an attempt to fight back his embarrassment.

He swore he caught a glimpse of the corners of your mouth slightly curl up, betraying your regular nonchalance. “Thanks” you responded with your usual tone, as you grabbed the popsicle, but the ghost of a smile was still lingering on your face. “3 dollars please”. He gave you the exact amount and was already on his way to the exit.

He felt a bit disappointed by your reaction but what was he even expecting? As he was trying to convince himself to be content with just seeing your smile, as discreet as it was, he heard your voice, piercing through the noise of the neon lights and refrigerators buzzing.

“Wait. I have my break in 10 minutes… Can you wait for me? We can eat it outside”. Was he hallucinating or did you actually asked him to eat together? He had to check your face several times to make sure he had not gotten crazy. Considering the way you were staring at him with your eyebrow arched, he figured he wasn’t dreaming and you were impatiently waiting for his answer. “I have to go get some fresh air anyways”, you added, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.

“Sure”, he finally said, doing his best to keep his cool but he knew too well that his face had turned crimson red.

“I gotta put the popsicles back into the freezer otherwise it will be melted by then”. Your fingers reached for his. He noticed how small your hand seemed next to his, how the black polish on your nails was chipped, how cold your skin felt against his.

Once he was sure you were holding the popsicles, he sprinted out of the convenience-store. It was only when he got outside that he realized he had been holding his breath all this time.

-----

The next 10 minutes felt like a real ordeal. Not even the last album of the Strokes blasting in your earphones could distract you from the fact that the cutest boy you had ever seen was sitting on the sidewalk waiting for you, right in the middle of your field of vision.

You decided to swivel your stool towards the old clock instead. Seven minutes left before you could take your break. Your foot was tapping frantically on the white tiles. You were not sure if you wanted the minute hand to reach the 6 already or to stop right here in its track. Get this over with already or never have to talk to the boy again.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore his presence, you just could not. Maybe if the small TV mounted on the wall had been playing something a little bit more interesting than ads for beers and tampons you would have been able to, but sadly it was not the case.

You finally caved in, your gaze going back to him. Once again, you couldn’t help but stare at his shoulders. Unfortunately, he ended up turning around, catching you ogling. “Shit” you whispered under your breath, mortified.

That was it, you thought. Even though there were still 2 more minutes left on the clock, you couldn’t stay here anymore. Otherwise you would have probably died of embarrassment by the time would be up.

You went to find the two popsicles you had put back into the freezer. You also decided to grab two cokes on your way out. You let out a loud breath, unsuccessfully trying to release the tension that had built up in your chest, before the sliding doors opened.

“Here” you said, holding out the popsicle and the drink to the boy. He grabbed it with a small “thank you” and a soft smile. The concrete burned the back of your thighs, left exposed by your worn-out denim shorts, when you sat by his side. The bright blue of the sky hurt your pupils. There wasn’t a single cloud on the horizon.

“I forgot how hot it was outside” you finally said. And you really meant it. It felt like you just went from a fridge to a 390 degrees oven.

“You work all day?” he asked, his face turning to yours. You noticed that he was already halfway through his coke. He must have been so thirsty. You felt bad for making him wait under the sun.

You nodded, as you took a sip of the beverage. “From 6 to 9. I start and finish my shift when the weather is still bearable” you explained.

You looked at your bare arms that were already heating up. They did not see the sun more than a few times this summer. You must have looked ill compared to the tanned vacationers. “I did not put sunscreen on” you said, thinking about how your mom used to nag you when you were young when you would stay under the sun for too long.

“You should probably go sit under the shade”, he suggested, his head turning to the plastic chair the convenience store had provided.

As you sat in it, you could not help but wonder if he purposely saved the place for you. It was positioned in such a way that you couldn’t clearly see the boy’s face, only his back and a bit of his profile. And what a profile. Chiseled jaw, delicate nose, pouty lips, pierced ears. You found yourself enjoying the view way more than you should have been. There was something so pleasant about being able to take a closer look at someone without being scrutinized back. But the lovely vision was disturbed by the beads of sweat that were forming at your eyebrows. You wiped it off quickly with the back of your hand.

“I fucking hate summer breaks” you sighed. The words came out harsher than you expected as you tore the fuchsia wrapper that protected the popsicle.

“Could not agree more” he said, between two licks. The way he was eating his popsicle was just sinful, you thought.

“Really? That’s an unpopular opinion though.”

“I guess I’m not used to breaks,” he shrugged.

“What do you do?” His answer had spiked your curiosity. He looked fairly young, around the same age as you. You wondered what kind of occupation would take up so much time of his life. Worker at a factory? Top athlete? Freelancer?

Oddly enough, he took a few seconds to answer as if he was not sure himself. “I’m a hip-hop dancer” he finally said, turning around to see your reaction.

“No offense but that sounds like an all year long vacation to me” you teased him.

A laugh escaped his pink lips. Ringing and honest. It was music to your ears. “It’s really not, trust me. What about you?”.

“I’m a college student. I’m majoring in macroeconomics”. His once innocent smile turn into a teasing one. You rolled your eyes but the corners of your lips, already curling up, betrayed you. “I know. Sounds boring. It’s boring actually”.

“I always wondered what the usual college student day looks like”.

“Wake up. Eat. Drink. Party. Sleep. Repeat. Oh, and sometimes go to class,” you counted on your fingers.

“TV shows are not lying then?” he asked, cocking his brow.

“They are. They make it seem fun when in reality it’s just the same stupid people doing the same stupid shit every single day. It gets exhausting really quickly... Oh and don’t get me started on hangovers, they make you regret going everytime.” You stopped your rant there and went back to eating your popsicle, afraid that you might have made him uneasy.

But it didn’t seem like it. Instead, he looked pensive, almost sad. “I wish I could live like that sometimes...”

“What’s keeping you from partying right now? You’re here with you parents?” Vacations were the perfect time to get wasted so it was surprising he did not seize the opportunity to do so, like all the other teens in town.

“I was supposed to, but something came up last minute. So, I’m all by myself. I don’t know anybody here,” he admitted. Although he turned his head to the other side, hiding his face from you, you could sense a bit of embarrassment in his voice.

You both fell silent, acting like you were too busy eating your popsicles to talk. You didn’t know when you decided to speak up. You couldn’t even remember what your train of thought was. But here you were, about to say a sentence you had never thought you would be saying to stranger one day.

“Hey, I’m meeting with my friends tonight. Do you wanna come?” The heat had probably melted your brain, you thought. There was no way you would have uttered those words if you had been in your right mind. You held your breath, waiting for his answer.

His eyes immediately went back to yours, lighting up with expectancy. “Will they be okay with it?”

“I think so. They always bring a plus one last minute without warning me. So that will be my revenge” you laughed, trying to conceal the nervousness that was growing in your stomach as you were realizing the implications of your offer.

“You sure?”

An old man was coming your way, a large shopping bag on his shoulders. A curse escaped your lips as you checked your phone. It was way past your break time. “If you insist, I’ll call them to ask. I gotta go.” As the client entered the shop, you quickly got up and threw the popsicle stick in the closest bin, along with the wrapper “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed with this popsicle, it’s really not that good”, you muttered on your way to the entrance.

“Wait. Where do we meet up tonight?” he stuttered as he sprung to his feet.

“Be there by 9” you yelled before disappearing being the sliding doors.

-----

When the client left, his basket full of oranges and peaches, you decided to call your friend as promised. You reluctantly pressed Minju’s contact picture. In order to have your hands free and be able to refill the aisles with ramen packets, you stuck your phone between your ear and shoulder. You regretted it immediately when she picked up the phone, her loud voice hurting your eardrum.

“You better not be calling me to cancel tonight’s plans.” You’d be lying if you said that the absence of any kind of greetings came as a surprise. Her answer was easily explainable by the fact that your phone calls were rarely auspicious since you despised calling and only did it instead of texting when you had something to apologize for.

“Yeah, about that… Just wanted to warn you, I’m bringing a friend tonight”. You could not help but wince at your own words, already predicting her answer.

“You have other friends than us?” She asked in her famous mocking tone, making you regret instantly your prior boldness. It was so unlike you to invite a total stranger and Minju knew it too well.

“I met him recently, he comes to the shop everyday”, you tried to explain.

“He? A boy?” She gasped and your mind could clearly imagine her shocked face as if she was standing right in front of you, hands on the cheeks and mouth agape. You’re pretty sure your eyes rolled all the way back to your head.

Your friend must have guessed it because you could hear her repressing a giggle. “Okay, okay” She said, regaining her composure. “What’s the lucky man’s name?” she allowed herself to ask. A sudden realization hit you.

You did not even know his name.

-----

As Hyunjin walked down the same street, his pace faster than usual, he felt his heartbeat increase and his hands getting clammy. The sun had not set yet, but the sky’s color had changed, shades of pink and oranges replacing the garish blue. A fresh breeze was tickling his nose and caressing his cheeks. The linen shirt he wore would probably come handy by the end of the night, when the air would have completely cooled off but for now, the tension in his body was making him sweat profusely. He felt like a frightened teenager going to his first party. Which, to be honest, was not that far from the truth.

When he entered the shop, you were running everywhere, apologizing for being late. He offered his help to close the shop, which you accepted but only after he insisted. Fifteen minutes later, as you were finally about to lower the shutters and leave, you stopped dead in your tracks.

“We can’t come empty handed”, you muttered to yourself. You went back into the 7/11 and grabbed a pack of beers and a bottle of coke from the fridge, as well as a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of vodka behind the counter. The night promised to be eventful and Hyunjin could not help but feel slightly excited as if he was about to break the rules. And in fact, he was probably going to break his company’s rules tonight.

Even at this hour, the subway was packed by teenagers going out for the night and businessmen coming home late to their family. It forced the both of you to stay quiet, the chatters and the rails’s screeching making you unable to hear each other anyways.

Hyunjin caught a glimpse of your reflection in the window. You looked tired, staring into space, as you were holding the heavy bottles. He could sense that you definitely weren’t as excited as him to go out. Your body was slouching against the metal door, as if you carried the weight of the world on your shoulder.

At each station, you would mindlessly move aside to let people get on and off. He could not help but stare at your features that had seemed to age in a matter of hours. You looked jaded, as if you already saw everything that life had to offer you and that it did not live up to your expectations.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but wonder if you regretted inviting him. He unsuccessfully tried to ease his mind by convincing himself it was probably the long day of work you had behind you and not his presence that was making this apathetic.

Moments later, you were already at the host’s door, pushing on the intercom’s button reluctantly. The person that picked up did not even care to ask you who you were before allowing you in.

Hyunjin was surprised there wasn’t any beer pong table or bowl of punch. No expensive mansion, no pool filled with girls in bikinis, no flashing lights, no blasting electro music. Only about twenty tipsy teenagers gathered around the couch and the dining table, sipping on cheap drinks and sharing cigarettes, listening to commercial music. It looked nothing like the movies but at least Hyunjin felt a little bit less nervous in this familiar setting.

-----

You could not bother to go around the room and say hi to everybody. Firstly, because you didn’t know at least half of the persons there and did not care to meet them. Mostly, because you spent the last month ghosting the people you did know and did not want to confront them. Instead, you went straight to the wooden dining table, barely visible under all the unhealthy snacks and beverages, where Minju was seated.

“Here comes Y/N, guys”, she yelled as if you were the literal messiah, but thankfully nobody was listening, too busy getting wasted. When her eyes went from you to your guest, they doubled in size.

“So, this is the guy you were hiding all this time”, she teased, and you could see the boy’s ears turning bright red, even in this dim lighting.

“I’m Minju,” she said, holding out her hand for him to shake.

“Hyunjin” he responded with a shy smile as their palms met. Even though you wanted to strangle her for embarrassing you in front of everybody, you had to admit her antics were useful for once, since it allowed you to finally learn the stranger’s name. And what a name. You found yourself repeating it in your head again and again and again… It fit his features perfectly: soft and dreamy.

You had to snap out of it, you thought. All these feelings were so out of character. “I need a shot. Want one?” You asked Hyunjin. Before he could even answer, you were already grabbing the bottle of vodka and hastily pouring the liquor in two small glasses.

“Sure” he said as he reached for the alcohol. You clinked your glasses, looking straight into each other eyes, before downing the bitter liquid in one shot. His face contorted dramatically as soon as his lips touched the vodka, making you chuckle.

The lighthearted moment did not last long since you saw Jiwon coming in your direction. You had met him at you first Halloween college party. He was your typical frat boy, friendly and noisy, but mostly silly. To your surprise, he had taken interest in you and made his mission to transform you into an extrovert by the end of the year, which, by the way, did not happen and was not about to happen anytime soon. His intentions weren’t bad but his constant nagging about socializing only made you drift further away. And tonight, you definitely weren’t going to put up with his bullshit. When he reached the table, you avoided his gaze by reaching for the bottle once again.

“I might need another one” you muttered under your breath as you quickly poured yourself a second drink, swallowing it in a matter of second, your throat burning and chest warming up.

“Y/N! It’s been a while. Where have you been?” Jiwon asked you, putting his arm around your shoulders.

“Working” you replied curtly. The boy just laughed at your boorish behavior, used to it by now, and playfully shook your shoulder.

“We’re gonna play ‘never have I ever’. Wanna join?” he asked at your intention but also at Hyunjin’s.

“I’ll pass”, you immediately responded, not in the mood for revealing all your dirty little secrets to strangers. When were you ever in the mood, anyway?

“If you didn’t already know Hyunjin, Y/N is the definition of a party pooper”, Minju slurred as if her mouth was full of marbles. You could already predict the fact that you’ll probably spend the end of your night holding your friend’s hair while she pukes in the toilets. “But I’m sure you’re much more fun than her”.

“It’s really not that hard.” Jiwon added, a teasing smile dancing on his lips.

Hyunjin looked at you as if he was asking your permission to participate in the drinking game. You suddenly felt guilty, realizing you were probably ruining his night by acting so sour. You nodded for him to go and not to worry about you. He smiled back at you as Minju was already grabbing him by the arm to drag him to the living room. He found a seat on the rug, between two pretty girls whose names and faces you couldn’t remember.

After hesitating between staying at the dining table, moping around and binging on sour cream and onion chips, or moving closer to the group of players, you decided to come and seat on the armrest of the sofa to observe the game. Hyunjin’s nervousness seemed to lessen a bit when he saw that you were now just in front of him, only separated by the coffee table filled with glasses, and you could not help but find it adorable. His eyes left yours to find Jiwon’s as he handed him a dark green bottle of beer.

“Okay so here is the twist. We’re gonna play the other way around. I say something I have done and people who never did it must drink. That way goody two-shoes get drunk for once. I’m sure the others don’t need help to get drunk anyways”, the girl on the right of Hyunjin explained and the partygoers approved loudly.

“I’ll start slow. I have had a blackout before” she said, a smile creeping up on her mouth. Hyunjin looked around as if he was waiting for some type of signal. When he saw a few other people drinking, he took a sip of his beer.

As expected, a guy was already bickering with his friend about whether or not he could really remember the time he danced naked on the kitchen counter on New Year’s Eve. With each statement, the players became more and more tipsy, more and more loud. It would usually get on your nerves and you would go take refuge in the bathroom to ease your growing headache, but surprisingly you did not mind the noise.

Probably because all you could pay attention to at the moment was the boy in front of you. You could not help but secretly watch his every move. You hoped nobody noticed you were staring. So far, he had drunk at almost every round. Thankfully it was just beer and not another strong liquor, otherwise he would have been too far gone to even be able to get up on his feet by now.

Your mind started wandering. It was filled with questions only him could answer but that you will probably never ask. You wondered what his life was like. You had never seen someone drink this much during a “never have I ever”. Certainly because people who knew they would be drinking this much usually abstained from participating. But Hyunjin looked like he was having the time of his life losing every single round.

How come someone like him had so little experience? He did not seem like the party animal type, so you weren’t surprised when he took large gulps when a girl said she had thrown up on a friend before and when a guy stated he once fell flat on his face because of how pissed out drunk he was. But how come he never had a long-term relationship nor a one-night stand? How come he never had to hide a hickey? How come he never broke up with someone? How come he never made out in public? To say the boy was a mystery to you would have been an understatement.

His actions were getting clumsier, his laugh getting louder, his lids getting heavier, his cheeks getting redder, yet you were mesmerized. The usual aversion you’d feel towards inebriated teens had magically vanished at his captivating sight. How could someone look this beautiful, even with their guard down?

As he finished his third bottle of beer, the blonde girl on his left was already opening him another one with her lighter. You could barely hear what he was saying to her above the music and the screams, but you sensed that the alcohol was starting to become a bit too much for him as she forced the drink in his reluctant hands.

“I’ll replace Hyunjin” you said, leaping up instantly to everyone’s surprise including Hyunjin’s. He stared at you with big eyes and you suddenly felt dumb, standing here while everybody was slumped on the Persian rug.

“Here comes your knight in shining armor, Hyunjin,” Jiwon said, breaking the awkward silence by laughing loudly as if it was the highlight of his night.

“Are you scared your boyfriend is gonna get out of control, Y/N?” the blonde asked, a smirk dancing on her bright red lips. Hearing your name in her mouth came as a surprise to you since you were pretty sure you had never seen her before. But it’s not like you paid attention to drunk girls at parties. You let out a forced laugh as you got around the coffee table, trying not to crush fingers or knock over red solo cups.

“I’m just way too sober for this shitty party”, you said while you finally managed to plop down gracelessly between Hyunjin and the blonde. You addressed her your biggest, brightest, sardonic smile before you snatched the bottle she was trying so hard to give to the boy from her.

You tried to avoid Hyunjin’s gaze by staring at the round stains left on the wooden table by previous glasses, as if it was the most interesting thing you ever saw. But it was impossible to ignore his presence when your bare shoulder was flushed against his. You suddenly became so aware of how cold your skin was compared to his. You felt your heart beat in your biceps. You secretly damned the vintage muscle tee he was wearing. You would probably have found it ugly on anybody else but, oh god, did it look good on him.

You finally dared to take a look at his face, only to meet his dark hooded eyes. He was looking straight into your soul, making you feel naked, stripped down from your armor. It seemed like any kind of shyness had left him as alcohol had infiltrated his body. You could have sworn he was gradually leaning forward, getting closer to your face inch by inch, second by second. As he suddenly lost his balance, you moved just in time to avoid his head, which ended up bumping against shoulder.

“Woah, sorry” he giggled while he grabbed onto your forearm for additional support. His fingertips were burning your skin, his smile was frying bour brain.

You could see Minju smirking out of the corner of your eyes, making you instantly get a hold on yourself. There was no way you would give your friend the satisfaction of seeing you flustered because of a boy.

“My turn,” you said, after clearing your throat. “I have gone skinny dipping before.”

-----

Hyunjin could not tell how much time had passed until he finally realized you had disappeared when he felt like he was on fire. Your coldness was gone and the little voice inside his head was urging him to go find it again.

He got up, his legs wobbly as if he was walking with high heels on quicksands, and wandered down the corridor. The alcohol had his head buzzing. He could not trust his senses anymore, his eyes were playing games, twisting and blurring his surroundings. Thankfully, there were no countless doors leading to dark rooms filled with strangers making out. Just your usual messy bedrooms and small bathroom, making it a lot easier to find you.

When he turned the silver knob of the second door, he was immediately warned by the scent of burnt tobacco. He could make out your figure, standing on the small balcony. Your features were lit by the moonlight. The smoke coming from your cigarette was creating shadows on your face and the fresh wind was blowing in your untamed baby hair. For the first time you looked soft, almost fragile.

You only seemed to notice his presence when he tripped on the windowsill, making a blaring noise that echoed into the empty street. Even though he was drunk, he could still see you were repressing a laugh.

“You look like you’re having fun” you said, backing onto the balustrade and crossing your arms over your chest, your halfway smoked cigarette stuck between your index and middle fingers.

“Yeah. Thanks for bringing me” he responded, climbing onto the bar of the balustrade like a kid would do to be able to look outside despite his small height. He did not know he had vertigo until he looked down the 5 stories. You grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back to the ground as his head was spinning.

He stole your cigarette and brought it to his lips to take a drag. He immediately regretted his decision when the smoke burnt his esophagus, making him almost choke. He gave it back to you with a sheepish smile. But you seemed amused by his childish antics.

“My friends seem to like you a lot”, you said, ignoring his embarrassing attempt at acting like a bad boy. “I’d say even more than they like me”.

“No, they don’t” he snorted.

“Yes, they do” you chuckled. You took a long drag of your cigarette as you turned around to look at the moon. A cloud of smoke escaped your lips and nostrils, tingling Hyunjin’s unaccustomed nose. “But don’t worry. That was the reaction I was hoping for when I invited you.”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrowed. He could not quite comprehend what you were meaning by that and the alcohol flowing through his veins was probably not helping.

“I knew they would pay attention to you and not me. It’s a win-win situation. You’re having a great time and they’re leaving me in peace for once. I don’t think I would have been able to put up with another ‘why are you so quiet’ or ‘smile a little more’ comment”, you explained, addressing him a small smile. He noticed you were trying hard to hide a certain form a sadness, but it shone through your steel mask anyways. He could see it in the way your eyes would linger for too long on the accumulated ashes and your breath would shake.

“You really hate them, huh?” He realized his question was gauche a second too late. A silence settled in between the two of you, only disrupted by the sound of the wind blowing in the trees. The moon was almost full and there was no cloud in the navy sky to soften the light it shone on you.

“I don’t hate them. I hate the way they make me feel”, you finally admitted as if you were dying to say those words out loud for so long.

“How do they make you feel?” Hyunjin inquired hesitantly.

“Like I’m out of place” you said. “Have you ever felt lonely in a room full of people? I feel that way each time I show up to those parties. That is why I stopped coming. The worst thing is my friends try so hard to make me feel like I belong here, to the point that it becomes annoying. They keep on inviting me and dragging me everywhere they go. Yet, it doesn’t work.” You sighed heavily and flicked the ash at the tip of your cigarette. “The problem is not them. It’s me”, you muttered to yourself, but Hyunjin could hear the pain in your voice.

“And how do I make you feel?” He dared to ask, preparing himself to have his feelings hurt.

“Honestly? Jealous. I wonder how you do… this,” you said, waving your hand in his face.

“What is “this”?” he giggled.

“Being so charming.” You looked at your shoes, your cheeks flushing red as if complimenting him was the most embarrassing thing you had ever done. He could not help but find your behavior endearing. A teasing smile was painted on Hyunjin’s face, making you roll your eyes. He bumped your shoulder with his to get a laugh from you. He felt relieved to see you finally smile.

“You’re gonna probably roll your eyes at what I’m gonna say but there aren’t only good sides to being well-liked” he started hesitantly.

Your reaction pushed him to continue. It looked like he had all your attention, like you were genuinely interested in knowing how he felt. It had always been hard for him to talk about it, even with his members since he didn’t want to be an additional burden. But he found a sense of comfort in telling an almost total stranger. If truth be told, he felt like he could tell you everything at this exact moment.

“I’m always wondering if the person they like is the real me or the front I’m trying to put up every single day. I’m scared they’ll find out who I really am and get bored of me. Or even worst, disgusted by me”. He was so used to hiding every single one of his flaws. A perfect man, that is what he was always asked to be. Perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect outfit, perfect personality, perfect performance. He was taught the smallest misdemeanor would lead not only to his downfall, but his friends’ too. What a heavy burden to carry when you’re still just a lost and confused teenager. “I feel like an impostor.” His members probably felt the same way sometimes, but it was obsessing him. He couldn’t count the number of nights he stayed awake wondering if he really earned his place by working himself into the ground or if was just lucky to be born with a pretty face.

“Then who’s the real you?” you asked quietly. Your eyes were shining in the dark, your long lashes surrounding them like the petals of two rare flowers. He felt like he could dive into them, get lost in the abyss and never come back up to the surface, as if he would find the answer to your question there. For a minute, it seemed like he forgot how to breathe, how to think. He finally came back to his senses when you stubbed out your cigarette, breaking the entrancing contact between the two of you.

“An insecure and sensitive drama queen”, he said with a fake solemn tone like a spy revealing his real identity.

“I would love to get to know her somedays” you joked, grinning from ear to ear. How badly he wanted to pinch your pink cheeks right now, to squeeze you so tight you’d pop in his arms.

“How about tonight?”

You spent the next few hours on the small balcony discussing your everyday lives, sharing your guiltiest pleasures, revealing your darkest secrets, keeping each other warm by huddling up. He discovered you were polar opposites. You despised coffee while he would kill for a good iced Americano. Hyunjin enjoyed listening to hip-hop, you preferred rock. You liked old black and white movies while he’d never say no to go see the new marvel one in theaters. He’d always pick sweet raspberry over any other flavor, but you’d choose bitter lemon. You strived at night, when no one was watching, whereas he lived under the constant spotlight, scrutinized by strangers. He felt like the sun and you looked like the moon. He was the summer, warm and welcoming, and you were the winter, cold and impenetrable. You were so far away from each other, worlds apart. Yet, never had he felt this close to someone before. In your presence, he felt at home.

The creaking sound of the door opening interrupted your conversation. “Guys, Yerin is kicking everybody out” Jiwon said. Minju, trying hard to keep her eyes open but loosing miserably against the alcohol and the sleepiness, was gripping the boy’s shoulder tightly, using him as a crutch.

“What time is it?” you asked, getting back inside the bedroom. Hyunjin followed reluctantly. Never had he hated someone more than Jiwon right now for putting an end to such a magical moment. He had to fight the urge to scream at the intruders to go away and leave the two of you alone. But it was too late, the atmosphere had already shifted, and you were back to the usual detached attitude you displayed in public.

“It’s already 3 am. I’m taking Minju back to her place” he answered. You thanked him, obviously relieved not to be the one in charge of taking care of your drunk best friend.

When your group arrived in the living room, Hyunjin saw a girl who was trying to clean up the mess the guests made. He would have offered his help if he had not seen that you were already out of the door, waiting for him. Jiwon and Minju left immediately in a yellow cab that was waiting for them.

Once again, you and Hyunjin were alone, surrounded by the silence of the dark night.

“I don’t wanna go home yet”, he whispered to himself, as he watched the few stars the polluted air of the city allowed him to see, his back pressed against the concrete wall of the building.

“Me neither”, you admitted. His heart jumped in his chest at the thought that you wanted to spend more time with him. His eyes dared to find yours. They were sparkling in excitement. A few hours ago, never he would have hoped to see you react in such a way. Only him seemed to be allowed to see this facet of yours. You made him feel so special.

“Let’s go somewhere else” he said.

“Where?”

That was a good question. Where do teenagers go in the middle of the night if it isn’t to a house party? “I’ve never been to a club before”, he suggested after racking his still foggy brain.

“Let’s make this night a night of firsts then”. Your cold fingers intertwined with his, sending shivers down his spine, as you dragged him in the alley lit by rusty streetlamps.

The night was young and so were the both of you.

-----

You couldn’t fathom how the fuck you ended up in a dingy night club at 3:30 AM, the place you despised the most on earth, right after public toilets and hospitals. Yesterday, a check to your name with at least two zeros would have been necessary to convince you to join the wasted partiers. Today, a sweet smile and a couple more shots of vodka had been more than enough. The effect the boy you met just a few weeks ago had on you was much more important than you would have liked to admit. How far were you capable to go for him if he asked you to? There was something scary about this intense sentiment you never felt before.

Hyunjin had you dancing in the middle of a crowd of total strangers as if nobody was watching. You, the person who was self-aware of every single one of her moves, constantly imagining how she looked in the eyes of the people surrounding her. For the first time, you let yourself truly exhale. You didn’t realize how long you had been holding your breath for.

Your intoxicated blood was pumping in your veins to the rhythm of the music blasting in your ears. Your limbs were moving as they wished, as if they had a mind of their own. The ground, sticky after all the drinks that were spilled on it, seemed to be rippling under your feet. Your whole world was tilting to the right, and then to the left, like a seesaw. Each flash of light felt like an additional shot of adrenaline. Your head was spinning and your vision getting hazier by the minute, making your eyes unable to distinguish the mass of sweaty bodies in the dark. But no matter how dizzy you were, you could still see him clearly.

Like Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky, Hyunjin shone. In a tide of people, you only had eyes for him. His body was moving in the most entrancing way, swinging so effortlessly to the beat of early 2010 hits. You couldn’t help but stare at his glistening neck, his collar bones left uncovered by his white muscle tee, his defined biceps, his swaying hips. Every inch of him seemed to be the work of Apollon.

You knew people were admiring him but you did not care. How could you be mad at them for taking a glimpse of such a beautiful sight? Especially when his eyes were never leaving yours, making you wonder what you did in your past life to deserve even a second of his attention.

You did not know how many hours went by, watching him recreating the most ridiculous dance steps he could remember to make you giggle and listening to him butchering your favorite childhood songs. At some point, you joined him. You screamed at the top of your lungs approximative lyrics that faded into uncontrollable bursts of laugher as he would catch you in his arms, make you twirl around and lift you in the air.

As people were slowly leaving the club, you were coming down from your high. Hyunjin was holding you tighter and tighter, your chest crushed against his, not even an inch separating your bodies, as if he was scared you might vanish if he loosened up his embrace even just a little. You never were the affectionate type, too afraid getting closer to someone would only scare them away. Because this is how you’d normally react yourself. The proximity was terrifying, the intimacy even more. But being in Hyunjin’s arms just felt so right at this moment.

Suddenly, the music seemed to come from another room, so far away, muffled as if your head was underwater. You dared to remove your face from the crook of his neck. You were relieved when you saw his face. Relieved this was not just a dream, this was your present. You were both gasping for air, inhaling and exhaling at the same tempo.

Your fingertips found his right cheek, then grazed his cupid’s bow and finally touched his lower lip. They felt too rough against his plump mouth. No matter how hard you’d try, you would never be gentle enough for such delicate features, for such a pure soul, you thought. You would ruin him, destroy him, tear his heart apart. But then his hand wrapped around yours. He made you press your palm against his burning skin.

His deep brown eyes were screaming ‘You’re enough’. And for once you believed it.

-----

“There is one more thing I want to do tonight” Hyunjin told you.

The fresh breeze had replaced the smell of sweat and alcohol and all kinds of filthy things, as you exited the night club. The dew was already glistening on the blades of grass of the neighboring lawns, like thousands of diamonds. The dark sky, blurred by the morning mist, was just starting to lighten, turning shades of lilac and mauve. The sunrise would be soon, but the streetlights were still on, leading the way. The teenagers that were kicked out of the club looked lost and disoriented as if they had just regained consciousness after an endless dream, stumbling in the city streets at 6 in the morning on a Sunday.

Your makeup was smudged under your eyes, accentuating the dark shadows due to the lack of sleep. Your hair was a mess and your cheekbones red. Yet, the way you were looking at him, eyes sparkling with curiosity, made you look adorable.

“Which way is the ocean?” he asked you.

You cocked your eyebrow in confusion but pointed your thumb to your right anyways, giving up on guessing what he had in mind. He grabbed your hand, his fingers naturally intertwining with yours, and started to run in the direction you indicated, slaloming between the hangover teens.

Not once had he gone to see the ocean since he had arrived here. The loneliness had paralyzed him all this time. But now that you were by his sides, he had the strong urge to feel the sea spray on his face, the sand between his toes. To feel alive after all these days of numbness. And share this feeling with you.

He had to drag you for a few meters before you finally picked up the pace. The further you got away from the night club, the more the streets were deserted, the only living presences you encountered at this hour being stray cats searching for something to eat in the dumpsters.

“Wait” you faintly protested as you were already gasping for air after a few minutes of running.

“We have to hurry before the sun comes up” he told you, holding your hand a little tighter to give you some courage.

-----

When your Doc Martens finally sunk in the humid sand, your lungs were on fire and your heart was about to burst out of your ribcage. The slender boy did not let you catch your breath though. As you were bent in two, hands resting on your weakened knees and chest heaving, you saw Hyunjin taking off his shirt and his muscle tee out of the corner of your eye.

Taken aback by his sudden boldness, you stood back up abruptly. The way Hyunjin smirked at you made you realize you were staring a bit too obviously at his defined torso. You felt your face becoming even hotter when he pulled down his jean shorts. Once he threw his beat-up converse in the sand, only his blue boxers were left. Never in your life a boy’s behavior had made you this flustered.

As your brain was trying to register what was happening, your started to stutter foolishly. But Hyunjin did not leave you the time to ask what the hell he was doing, already sprinting to the ocean. In an instant, the crashing waves swallowed him whole. You tried to catch a glimpse of him, but the foam formed by the sea’s eddies were making it impossible for you to distinguish his figure.

You did not know what took over you, probably the same unknown feeling that pushed you to dance in a filthy club, but here you were undressing hastily on a deserted beach at dawn. You ignored the shivers that traveled down your spine and the goosebumps that were appearing on your legs as you took off your shorts. You kept your large t-shirt on, not brave enough to show your whole body to him. You knew your courage would falter if you took too long to enter the cold water, so you ran and dove, headfirst.

The water felt like liquid ice against your skin, wrapping every inch of you, hugging you dearly. Your whole body went numb. If it wasn’t your stinging cuticles that were raw from the constant biting of your nails, you would have forgotten you were even made out of flesh. Forgotten that your existence did not just consist of a tired soul floating around aimlessly in the limbo. At last, everything felt so serene and at peace.

Ever since you learned how to swim, you had always loved the ocean. The feeling it procured you was still unrivaled to this day. It was better than alcohol, better than drugs, better than sex. Underwater, everything would stop for a moment. Your heartbeat would start to slow down, to the point you weren’t sure you were still alive. Your eyes would cease to see, and your ears would cease to hear. The whole world would go quiet. Those minutes of nothingness were all you wished for. They left you craving for more. But as the years went by, the beach wasn’t the refuge it used to be anymore. It slowly became a place of deep insecurities and social obligations. You stopped going, always declining your friends’ invitations. Only now were you realizing how much you missed the ocean’s embrace.

When your lungs screamed in need of oxygen, you reluctantly swam back to the surface. The void the water left in your heart was immediately filled by Hyunjin’s smile.

“You’re crazy” you told him between two waves, your hands flailing around to keep your head over the troubled water. He beamed at you and you thought you could die happy right now, with the picture of his radiant face in mind.

You both let yourselves float on your backs, the water gently rocking you. The sun was peeking shyly on the horizon, like the flame of an old lighter, gradually turning the shades of blue and mauve into hues of orange and pink. You noticed the faint shadow of the moon, not wanting to leave just yet. Ribbons of golden clouds were now decorating the pale sky. The sea was no longer an abyss of dark blue, but now an infinite expanse of liquid gold, as the sun rays were dancing over its surface.

You were overwhelmed by such beauty, on the verge of tears. You weren’t sure if you had actually started crying or if your cheeks were just wet because of the ocean’s water. The memory of the last last time you watched the sunrise by the sea with your family came back. Your parents were still together at that time and your brother hadn’t left town to go study far away yet. Everything was so simple back then. You used to be so happy, so carefree, so eager. You thought you would never be able to feel this way ever again. You thought the best moments of your life were already behind you.

But Hyunjin proved you wrong. For the first time in years, you didn’t regret yesterday nor fear tomorrow. You didn’t think about the stupid shit you did at a party last year nor what you were going to do with your boring degree once you graduated. You didn’t wish time away, finally savoring the moment. You felt so alive by his side.

You didn’t know how long you were floating, watching silently the sky changing colors. Minutes, hours, months, years, an eternity had passed. When you finally got back on your feet, your fingers were all pruned. As you were about to get out of the water, Hyunjin grabbed your wrist. “There’s one last thing I want to do tonight” he told you.

“It’s not nighttime anymore,” you teased him.

But Hyunjin did not seem to be in the mood to joke around. The way he was staring at you so intensely made your chest ache in apprehension. He pulled gently on your wrist to bring you closer. So close you were able to see the droplets of water that clung onto his long eyelashes. The sunrise had turned his deep brown eyes into cognac-colored ones, shades of orange and amber tinting his irises. His tan skin was glowing, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was really a human or an otherworldly creature. Your breath hitched in your throat that had suddenly gone dry.

“Alright,” you said, in a voice that was quieter than you expected. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “But I swear to god, Hyunjin, if you ask me to jump off a cliff I - “

You were cut off by his plump lips, pressing softly against yours. Hyunjin kissed you tenderly, carefully, as if you were made of crystal. He tasted like salt and vodka, like holidays and sunshine. At this moment, you felt whole, complete. But he pulled away only seconds after, much to your dismay. His expectant eyes found yours. He seemed to be waiting for a response that would hopefully calm his nerves.

You wanted to scream ‘what were you waiting for all this time?’ but instead you just kissed him back, craving the feeling of his mouth on yours so badly. Your hands trailed up his shoulder and cupped his cheeks. The kiss grew more intense as his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you harder against his damp skin. Heat bloomed in the pit of your stomach, spreading ineluctably to the rest of your body. Hyunjin’s prior hesitation was long gone. His lips moved urgently, kissing you so hard you would have probably lost your balance if he wasn’t holding you this tight.

Your fingers pulled on his hair tie to free his bleached strands. You were finally able to run your fingers through his wet hair. You had been dying to do so all evening. You couldn’t help but tug slightly at the rough ends. You thought your heartbeat couldn’t get any faster until a soft moan escaped his lips, sending you over the edge.

Your head was spinning endlessly. Your mind was monopolized by the thought of him. Every bit of your sanity was out the window. You loved his blond hair that was a little too long. You cherished his delicate nose. You adored his full lips. You treasured the beauty mark under his eye. You worshipped his whole being.

When it all became too much for your body to handle, you reluctantly broke the kiss. You were both panting, breathing the same air as his forehead stayed pressed against yours. His thumb was rubbing slowly against your jaw and you couldn’t help but lean into his soothing touch. He looked so glorious, his eyes half-closed, and his lips swollen, that if you had listened to the mischievous voice in your head you would have devoured him at that very moment. But Hyunjin noticed the goosebumps that had spread across your arms and the way you were shivering. He finally became aware of the freezing waves that kept crashing against your thighs.

“We should go dry off before we catch a cold” he said to you with the sweetest smile, before leading you out of the water, his hand never leaving yours.

Just now did you realize how bad of an idea it had been to swim with your shirt still on. It was clinging onto every inch of your body, the salt making it even more uncomfortable. There was no way it would be dry before several hours, especially with the sun this low on the horizon. Once Hyunjin reached the pile of clothes you left on the sand, he handed you his linen shirt awkwardly and turned around to let you change. You couldn’t help but giggle at his adorable gesture.

You made sure nobody was watching, undressed as quickly as your sticky t-shirt allowed you to and put his shirt on. It was soft against your skin and smelled like his cologne. Hyunjin had taken the opportunity of you turning your back on him to put his tee and shorts back on. You laughed when you realized that he went commando, his dripping boxers still in his hand.

He tried to distract you from his blushing face by letting himself fall to the ground. You joined him, with a loud sigh, stretching you out on the golden sand that had just started to warm up. It was the first time in 24 hours that you were lying down but your eyes wouldn’t close.

“I can’t believe you never asked what my name was and just waited around to know it” Hyunjin laughed, interrupting your daydream.

You rolled on your stomach and leaned on your elbow so that you could look at him. “You didn’t ask what mine was either!” you exclaimed, on the defensive. But his infectious laugh only ringed louder in your ears. “I was stressed out, okay?” you pouted.

“Did I make you flustered?” he smirked.

“Of course, you did!” you said like he had stated the obvious. “It’s not that often that a cute boy comes to the store every single day to buy freaking raspberry popsicles…”

“Maybe I didn’t only come to buy popsicles.”

“Oh really? I would have never thought,” you said ironically.

“Not gonna lie, I was kind of shocked that you finally talked to me” he said while his fingers tucked a piece of hair that was falling over your face behind your ear lovingly.

“Was I that scary?”

“Terrifying” he joked. You rolled your eyes and put his arm around you so that you could rest your head on his chest.

“Okay let’s start all over. Hi, my name is Y/N.” you said sticking out your hand for him to shake.

“Nice to meet you Y/N. My name is Hyunjin. Can we make out now?” he giggled, and you couldn’t help but hit him playfully.

You both grew silent as you admired the sky changing color. You snuggled your face in the crook of his neck, looking for his warmth. You wondered how he was always so warm, how he felt like pure sunshine. You thought you could spend your whole life here, just the two of you, laying on a beach at dawn, listening to his steady heartbeat, him playing with your wet hair. You would have wanted to catch this feeling in a bottle: happiness.

“Summer breaks aren’t so bad after all,” he whispered.

-----

Hyunjin’s shoulder had gone numb a long time ago but he didn’t dare to move, not wanting to disturb such a peaceful sight. You were sleeping, your mouth slightly agape, air coming in and out of it steadily. But when he felt like he would have to be amputated if he stayed like this one more second, he scooped up your head gently to put it on the sand. Unfortunately, your puffy eyes opened as soon as his skin wasn’t in contact with yours anymore, as if your body couldn’t bear to be separated from his.

“What time is it?” you asked groggily, trying to cover your face from the sun that was already a lot higher in the blue sky.

He took his phone out of his pocket, careful not to put any sand on it. “8:47” he said.

“I really gotta go”, you sighed. But you didn’t get up.

You looked so comfortable, laying there, hugged by the warm sand. Your whole body, which used to look lifeless, was now bathing in sunlight. White linen had never looked this good, he thought. The way his shirt was draping over your figure mesmerized him. Your delicate collarbones were peeking right above the collar. He noticed every freckle on your face, every mole on your body, every stretchmark on your hips, every hair on your arms and legs. He loved all of it. He had to repress the urge to caress your skin, too scared he might go crazy if he did.

You finally decided to move, much to Hyunjin’s dismay. You emptied your boots of all the sand that had found its way in them before putting them back on. Hyunjin had never seen someone struggle this much to tie up their laces before. You both managed to stand up, despite the exhaustion and the soreness.

“And I really need some Advil” you said, wincing in pain once you were on your feet. Your head must have been pounding, just like his, after this long night of partying.

“Piggyback ride?” he offered, and you smiled. He collected all your clothes before he let you jump onto his back. You had a hard time doing it, having no strength left in your legs, but after a few attempts and a fit of laughter, Hyunjin managed to hook his arms under your thighs. He took one last look at the turbulent ocean, in order to imprint this moment in his memory, before returning to the streets.

You acted like a GPS, indicating him the fastest way to get to the closest subway station. He had never seen a GPS be this confused though: you were changing your itinerary every two seconds and he was starting to wonder if you really knew were you were going. But the ways your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, your breath was caressing his cheeks and your hair was tickling his neck were totally making up for how exhausted he felt from carrying you for so long.

Once you finally reached the subway entrance after this long journey, he let you get down. Your hurtled down the stairs as you heard the loud screeching of the train getting closer.

As expected on a Sunday morning, the car was almost empty, so you easily found two seats. You let your head fall onto Hyunjin shoulder.

He couldn’t help but think about your previous ride. About how different it felt. About how world-weary you used to seem as you were staring out the window. It had only happened 12 hours earlier, but it seemed like eternity had passed since.

Sure, you still looked tired. But it was now a different kind of tiredness. The one that inevitably came after the excitement. The one you were trying so hard to fight not to miss any second of what the universe had planned for you. The one that was making you grin from ear to ear even though your eyelids were getting heavier. The one that meant you were still alive.

“I think this is my station,” you suddenly told him, interrupting his sweet reverie.

You got up in a hurry and as your body got away from his, Hyunjin felt like someone had ripped off a part of him. You grabbed your still dripping shirt with the tips of your fingers. You stood up before him for a second, your expression unreadable, before making your way to the already opening doors.

But just before you reached them, you stopped dead in your tracks as if you had forgotten something. You walked back to Hyunjin and leaned in to press a chaste kiss on his lips. A goodbye kiss that tasted so sweet. Your hand caressed his jaw soflty and he couldn’t help but notice how your skin was a little warmer than the usual.

The beeping of the doors startled the both of you. You rushed out just in time, giggling like a child. His heart broke a little when the doors closed behind you. You stayed on the platform while the train was leaving, waving your hand at Hyunjin. You looked like an angel in his white shirt that was fluttering in the wind, grinning candidly from ear to ear.

He did not know then it would be the last time he saw you.

You didn’t come to work on Monday and Hyunjin left for Seoul on Tuesday.

He didn’t know your number nor your address.

He didn’t even know your last name.

All the sudden, it seemed like you never existed. All he had left was the memory of you and surely this memory, one day, will become so old that Hyunjin himself will doubt of its reality, without any other witness to confirm it. He will probably think you were a creation of his lonely mind, a dream, a mirage.

Who will even believe him when he would tell his first love story?

But there was one thing he was sure of. He will never forget the look on your face.

Never forget how you finally seemed happy.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #hyunjin fic #hyunjin fluff #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin #stray kids au #hyunjin au #stray kids fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin scenario #kpop fanfic #i have literally no idea how youre supposed to tag your fics help

199 notes · View notes

girlpornparadise · 4 years

Text

Chances (pt 3)

Pairing: Esteban/f!Reader (There is a New World Somewhere - Maurice Compte)

Word Count: ~1800

Smut warning: Yup.

Personal ramble: My walking disaster deserves all the love and laid he can handle. Fight me.

Part 1 here Part 2 over here

You think the water is slightly too hot for your liking, but consider it may just be added heat radiating off of you both. Though sated, your naked bodies are once again pressed together and your lips massage each other's. You taste the salt running off of him and rub your hands over his slick skin. The desperation has subsided and you can express bare affection freely. You touch and nip playfully at each other while you replace the scent of passion with the scent of passionfruit body wash. You giggle to yourself at the contrast between the masculine scent he entered your home with and the girly products he's now covering himself in. You are both a bit giddy, so he doesn't ask what's so funny. Instead he paws at your soapy breasts as you rub a glob of conditioner out of his hair. Once you're both clean and sufficiently dried, you lead him to your bed, where he holds you against himself under the covers.

***

When you awake in the morning you hear a flush from the bathroom and it takes a moment to remember why. He reenters the bedroom, having collected his clothes from the livingroom and dressed himself. "I'm regretting my choice of underwear, or I guess lack thereof right about now."

You giggle and accidentally snort, covering your muzzle with your hand in embarrassment. He walks over to the bed and kisses your forehead. "I've got some deadlines I've got to meet today. But maybe I can stop by for more dessert later?"

"Yeah, I did bake an entire cake." You remind him.

"I wasn't talking about the cake." And he smiles, dimples on full display.

As he turns to leave, you stand up, morning sun highlighting your every naked curve. He pauses to take it in and you seize the opportunity to pull him into a kiss. He tastes like spearmint gum, presumably from the pack in his pocket, and you realize to your horror that you must have atrocious morning breath. When he pulls away after a few moments of tender contact, you are the one chewing the gum.

"I think you need it more." He winks.

God that wink.

You take a couple of exaggerated chomps of the gum to taunt him and smile widely. He gives you a once over, arches his eyebrow approvingly, and takes his leave.

The day goes by at a lazy pace. Now that the proposal is finished, you really don't know what to do with yourself. You dip into the souvenir tea your mother sent you from one trip or another and enjoy it while absentmindedly playing Words with Friends. Your words are embarrassingly low scoring for a teacher, but your mind keeps wandering to last night and how well everything went. Too well? You ask yourself. A man who looks like that probably eats a lot of cake so to speak. But he did ask to come over again. You lean into the optimism as you lose another game. Putting down the phone and draining your mug, you decide to go for a walk instead of questioning your good fortune.

The day gives way to evening, though you're not quite sure where it went. You only notice the time because your phone buzzes. It's Esteban.

Another article in the bag, with an hour to spare.

Well done. Did you want some cake? Or were you looking to otherwise occupy your tongue?

I was thinking about staying in tonight actually.

Your heart sinks.

I was thinking about staying in your bed until the sun comes up tomorrow.

That same death stare you gave him when he teased you for the first time flashes across your face, but gives way to laughter. You can't help but forgive a tease.

Well, you can cum anytime.

I can flirt too, you figure.

Not before you I hope. On my way.

You let him have the last word as you smile to yourself and straighten up around you a little.

He arrives shortly after. When you open the door, he leans in and pecks you on the cheek. He's carrying beer this time.

"I appreciate a man who always comes bearing alcohol. But are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Do I need to?"

"Absolutely not." You pull him in by his t-shirt and kiss him lightly on his smiling lips.

You slowly drag him across the threshold into your place. He breaks away from you to set the beer down on the dining room table.

Grabbing you by the shoulders he leans in and kisses you properly this time and his beard tickles against your chin. Your hands find his chest and paw at his t-shirt.

Gliding your hands to the back of his neck, your fingers just brush the base of his hairline and you swipe your thumb across his tense neck muscles. He strains to devour you, and you pull his lips to yours hungrily until the pressure is almost too much. As you retreat and gasp for air he takes the opportunity to back you towards the sofa, and with a little more force than he meant to he pushes you down onto the cushions. As you bounce slightly you're reminded of this man's strength and how you want him to use it to take you as he pleases.

Lowering himself in front of the couch, he kneels at your feet. Your breathing is heavy in the quiet of the evening and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears. With his strong hands on your thighs he gazes into your eyes. You find yourself drowning in his stunning brown depths as you see his needs and wants mirroring your desires. His tongue darts out slightly to moisten his lips and you gasp at the implication.

With purpose, he hooks his hands into the waistband of your leggings and as you arch your back, he pulls them down to your knees. With his right hand he removes them completely while his left hand palms your outer thigh.

Tossing your leggings aside, he parts your legs. He hums approvingly at the sight of your soaked through panties and rubs the wet patch with his rough thumb. As he circles your most sensitive spot, his eyes return to yours. Your mouth agape, panting, you catch one corner of his mouth twitch upwards and the matching mischievous smile in the corner of his eyes. You watch as his long lashes bow down with his gaze as his concentration returns to your increasing slickness.

With another decisive movement, he hooks your panties and as you squirm, he removes them. You are spread, wide and bare to his touch. He kneads at your inner thighs, circling closer and closer to your core. As he leans in, you shift forward on the couch, slouching into his hot breath and wanting mouth. His thumbs swipe further inwards until they brush at your lips. He parts them, opening you to his mouth. With a torturously slow movement he licks you, his tongue wide and flat against your wet center, dragging a whimper from deep inside of you. As the tip of his tongue reaches your mound you throw your head back and exhale a breaking cry. He licks and laps at your lips as the heat rises through your body. You rest one hand gently atop his crown and let your fingertips explore the soft waves of his hair. He hums against you making your hands tremble and hips buck.

He hooks your knees over his strong shoulders so that he can increase the pressure of his tongue. As he does so he takes a moment to regard your expression, and he finds you mouthing "oh god, oh god," a prayer to continued pleasure. His mouth returns to its mission and he increases the pace. Placing his hands firmly on your hip bones, he stills your rocking as you strain against his strength.

You can feel the heat rise through you as he presses into your bud and you whimper and moan. Your entire body spasms as you orgasm floods you and you unintelligibly scream.

Exhausted, you lean back. Esteban comes into view as he stands and wipes his mouth with his forearm. His expression is still one of hunger despite making a meal of you. You hear his zipper before you lean forward to see him remove his jeans. The bulge in his boxer briefs is intimidating and despite your body relaxing from its exertions, you feel your core clench, begging to be filled.

The underwear is quickly discarded and his full length is taken in by your wide eyes. You tentatively reach out to touch it, but his hands wrap easily around your wrists, forcing them back against the couch. He bends down and aligns himself with your center, and with force enters your body. He lets out a huff as he does so, and you gasp at his warmth filling you. His hips begin to rock and he leans down and kisses you with the same strong determination as all of his movements. His rough exertion rocks through you and the couch shakes beneath you as he grunts with effort. He releases your wrists so he can grab your hips and slam into your core.

He rests his forehead on yours as he folds you in half to thrust deeper inside of you. As he reangles your body, he presses into your spot and you glow with your building need. He is huffing and thrusting, you are moaning and rocking.

You grip his biceps to steady yourself as his punishing thrusts bring you to another peak. He raises himself and as your head lolls to the side you see his jaw clench and his eyes squeeze shut. With a grunt and a cracked cry he releases himself.

Your breathing slows as does his. He cleans himself off and passes you some tissues. He leans back on the couch and you curl into his side. He smooths your hair as you run your nose lightly along his angled jawline. He kisses your forehead and you sigh.

He holds you to him for a while and you wonder if the passage of time is even real when one is so happy. When he shifts to get off the couch, you grab the fuzzy blanket off the arm and wrap it around you.

He returns with a beer for each of you. Placing them down on the coffee table he tries to wrestle the blanket away from you until laughing, you reach an agreement to share it. You take the opportunity to go retrieve a couple of pieces of cake, which admittedly don't go well with the beer, and you both eat and drink, cuddled in a comfortable silence.

#maurice compte #esteban #there is a new world somewhere #esteban is my disaster angel and i can fix him i swear #he deserves all the love #and those forking dimples #like seriously man #how dare you #bring me beer #and then drink me instead

31 notes · View notes

venusandromedadjarin · 4 years

Text

An Evening with Kuiil

Ch. 5, A Glint of Beskar

18+ eventual smut, violence, gore, language, TW: blood, 1.9k words

The next morning, you wake up on the cot with a piece of metal digging into your shoulder. Maker, no wonder he probably sleeps in his armor. For some reason he didn’t roll you into the actual cot space, he left it pulled out. After your panic attack yesterday, he was probably hoping you wouldn’t freak out in the small space. Secretly, you’re grateful, even if that wasn’t the reason. Small spaces scare you more than this Maker forsaken planet.

Your body doesn’t hurt or sting when you get up to stretch, having completely healed from the torment of the last time you were here. The only pinch is where that pipe dug through the thin fabric of the cot. You roll it into it’s compartment before popping in the fresher to quickly wash your face in the sink.

Climbing up the ladder, you peak your head up to see if you can see Mando, but the doors to the cockpit are open and he’s not there. Sighing, you head back down and outside, curious if he’s with Kuiil. The kid is, but Mando isn’t and you do your best to not look disappointed.

“He left this morning, told me to tell you.” You stare at Kuiil, waiting for more details but he just nods, “I have spoken.” Turning back to the child, he reaches out a hand to the little bundle in the capsule. Figuring out that he literally has spoken all he’s planning on, you wander out to the fenced area. One of the Blurgs bellows at you but you stay leaned up against the fence, even as it looks like it’s about to charge.

You notice there’s one less than there was last night and ask over your shoulder, “Did Mando take one?”

“Yes,” silence for a moment, then, “and he said you might know how to work on droids.”

Spinning around, you study the little man for a minute, deciding he’s serious. You didn’t tell Mando that you know how to do anything, really. He never asked. Weighing your options, you decide to play your cards mysteriously. “Maybe.”

Kuiil looks up at you from his seat and shrugs, “You can either wander around in the heat, bored, or you can be useful.”

Scoffing, you walk back into the shade and realize he’s right. “Fine, where’s the droid?” He motions towards a workbench to the right without ever taking his eyes off the child.

The machine is a mess. Multiple bullet holes though the chest and head, wires hanging out and a melted blaster attachment on the left arm. You curse underneath your breath and get to work, feeling very much at home in the little hut.

Hours pass, and when the sun starts to dip below the horizon, Kuiil comes to your side, “It’s looking better. You are skilled.”

You chuckle, wiping your hands on a cloth already soaking with grease. “Thanks. It’s been a long time.”

Kuiil nods and is quiet for a moment, pointedly looking at the droid instead of you. After the silence grows awkward and you start looking around out of concern he says, “Mando told me that you had a rough go here. I do not want to pry, but tomorrow I have to leave for business. He said he’d be back, but if he is not, will you be okay?”

Shocked, you look down at him, slowly setting down the rag you didn’t realize you were wringing. You should tell the truth, but instead of being weak you just say, “I’ll be fine.” It doesn’t sound as strong as you’d hoped though, and he stares at you long and hard before finally going to bed, leaving you to pull the capsule back into the ship and close the door alone.

The next morning, you sit with Kuiil in the already sweltering heat and drink caf. He burned it a little on the fire, but his jokes make up for it. He’s very gentle around you, which makes you wonder what else Mando might have said to him. The child likes him and constantly makes grabby hands for his attention.

“When are you leaving?”

Kuiil studies the sky before looking back at you, “Soon. I will wait as long as I can.”

Looking out over the dunes that are surrounding his little home, you say, “It’s fine. You don’t need to.”

He nods, and heads inside, probably to pack his bags. When he finally comes back out with them slung over his shoulder, the kid is running around catching bugs and shoving them in his mouth with his grimy little fists. You watch him but don’t call or go after him as long as he stays in your sight. Twice now, he has waddled up to you to show you the large bugs before swallowing them.

“Last time the kid was here, he swallowed a frog from the Blurg trough,” Kuiil says with a chuckle. He drops his bags with a thump before scooping the green child into his arms and giving him a small hug. “I should be going.” He hands the kid back to you and picks up the bags, heading towards the enclosure.

“Is there anything I can do to help while you’re gone?”

He shakes his head, loading the bags onto his mount’s back, “No, stay here and be safe. Mando said you have extra blasters?”

A little taken aback, you quickly run through what you know about the Razor Crest in your mind. Admittedly, it’s not much. “Uh, yeah. Yeah on the ship.”

“I have spoken,” Kuiil gives you a big smile before mounting the Blurg and waving goodbye, leaving you with a floating capsule and absolutely no clue where the weapons are.

By the evening, when the sun starts to dip, you’ve managed to find the weapons, as well as the carbonite block area. There’s no quarries in it currently, but you’re guessing that will change at any moment. You’ve played with the child for hours, and he’s currently snoring from his pile of blankets so you decide you can probably close the cover and get some alone time while you wait. With the hull door open, you decide to sit on the ramp which gives you the perfect view to catch the smallest glint on the horizon as the sun dips lower.

Your stomach jolts as you suddenly realize the glint isn’t moving as it should, the only movement is that of the Blurg that keeps walking. Dust continuously kicks up behind the beast… almost like something is being dragged. This doesn’t feel right, shouldn’t someone be walking next to the animal and someone riding it? But you see no one, other than that small glint, and just as the sun disappears, you realize why.

Without any second thoughts to grab a blaster, you take off sprinting towards the animal, only slowing down as to not startle it when you get near. A rope is tied to the unconscious - or dead? - quarry’s ankle which is being dragged, just like you thought. But Mando doesn’t stir as the Blurg walks right up to you. Before you have the chance to panic, you pull it's harness and lead it back to the enclosure. You leave the quarry tied to it, but quickly try to pull Mando off it’s back, realizing too late that the mixture of him being above you and heavier than you means he’s going to either slam into you or the ground.

You decide to take the pain and pull his limp body down onto you, falling back on your ass, grunting underneath the weight of him. Shimmying out from under him, you can’t help but notice that your clothes are soaked in… it’s not cold, which can only mean one thing.

Blood.

You’re not big by any means, in fact, you’re dwarfed by the size of him. Reaching underneath his arms, you realize just how much bigger he is as you try to drag him up the ramp. It’s slow going until you realize you can tear his armor away and lose tens, maybe a hundred pounds of weight?

Laying him down, you sprint back to hit every single light switch you can think of and pull out the med kit you know is hidden in the side cupboard. As quickly as you can, you unclip his Beskar and throw it back behind you into the hull. Both pauldrons, the breast plate, his forearm plates, the plates on his legs. You tear the cloak off its attachments and shove it behind you, realizing it might be good to cover him up with unless you can find blankets.

The blood is seeping out from an unseen wound, soaking your pants and his clothes. You’ve got to find it but you have no idea how much of this is crossing a boundary.

Fuck it. I’d rather he be angry than dead.

Pulling him the rest of the way into the hull is easier without the armor, and as soon as the door slams shut, you’re pulling his gloves, boots, socks, shirt and pants off, leaving only his helmet and underwear.

A slash tears across his abdomen, just under where his breastplate ends, but you can see more blood seeping from somewhere on his back. Panicking, you flip him on his side, finding no lacerations on the strong muscles of his back… then where? You reach to feel between his closed thighs, your hand coming out slick with blood. His femoral vein. Easing him back down, hands coated in blood, you reach behind you for his shirt, pushing it into the cut on his stomach and pulling his hands up to keep pressure on it. “Mando,” your voice is shaky, “if you can hear me I need you to hold this okay? Please.” You’ve never begged in your life, but here you are. Digging through the med kit, you find the wound cauterizer and a Bacta shot, knowing that both of these are going to hurt. You’d rather stop the bleeding than make him comfortable right now though, so you flick the switch and wait for the cauterizer tip to get hot.

“Mando…I’m sorry.” Slowly you start dragging the tip against the jagged slice you located on his thigh, straddling his hips backwards so you can hold his leg down with one hand. Part of you worries he’ll jerk forward and clock you with his helmet, but so far so good. The blood stops coming as fast as you drag the machine over the wound, but you’re only a third of the way done when he convulses under you, a modulated scream coming from the helmet. A tear rolls down your cheek as you try to hurry the process up without botching it, but your arm jerks when he suddenly wraps his arms around you, forcing you to drop the machine between his open thighs. “Mando-”

“S-stop… f-uck-k…” He tries to stop you but his grip loosens and you lunge for the machine as he falls back to the floor, his helmet clinking softly. His hands grip your hips hard enough to leave bruises as you continue to stop the bleeding, his groans echoing through the hull.

#the mandolarian #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin #reader x din Djarin #din djarin reader insert

40 notes · View notes

god-fucking-dammit-mizutani · 3 years

Text

Just This Once - Chapter 3

Word count: ~3900 | Chapter Title: Saturday Afternoon Part: 3/? Chapter Summary: Taichi's day, somehow, gets worse.

Read on Ao3

If it were possible, Taichi would have the sun put on trial for false advertisement.

All morning it had been gliding along the short waves, glinting right back into his eyes and goading him into a swim. By noon Taichi had been sold, trading in his clothes for a pair of swim trunks, ready to escape the all encompassing humidity that had risen along with the sun. Heat had even sunk into the wooden planks along the dock, nipping at Taichi’s heels as he took a running dive straight—

Into ice water.

From his vantage point still up on the dock, Kousuke barks out a laugh just as Taichi breaches the surface, shaking water from his hair. He doesn’t remember there being a breeze before he’d taken the clandestine leap, but it cuts past his cheeks now, burning from the new found cold and—less admittedly—embarrassment.

“A little warning would have been nice,” Taichi grouses. His glare is undermined by the chattering of his teeth.

Kousuke sways at the end of the dock, the edges of his lips tilting upward. “This is your warning to move,” he gives to Taichi before walking several paces back. Taichi barely has any time to flounder out of the way before Kousuke takes off sprinting towards the edge of the dock, tucking his legs up into a cannonball mid-jump. Water splashes up all around him from the impact and right into Taichi’s eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Kousuke planned it.

Taichi isn't completely ruling it out, though.

“Not what I meant.”

Kousuke grins. “Bet you can’t make a bigger splash.”

“You’re on.”

Taichi calls mercy just a little after the sun has begun to dip towards the cabin behind them, taking the temperature down along with it. Under the water feels more like a bath now that his body has adjusted, and Taichi thinks that’s reason enough to never, ever leave it again.

Well, other than his splendid swan dive transforming into a surprise belly flop. He’s certain Kousuke must still be cackling over it somewhere down below the surface and Taichi isn’t above hoping he swallows just enough lake water to be unpleasant.

On the shore, Taichi catches Keiko waving at him where she’s since pulled up a beach chair. A novel lays abandoned in the sand beside her. Taichi does his best to return the wave while staying afloat.

Up on the deck Kae and Masami have come out to keep Grandma company. Over their heads the umbrella in the center of the table has been opened. Koushirou, he realizes, must have snuck back inside at some point during their diving contest. Taichi tries not to feel disappointed about it. Koushirou’s already been privy to most of his Worst Moments and Greatest Disasters over the tenure of their friendship. It’s not exactly a list he’s particularly eager to build on any further. So, really, it’s a good thing.

Taichi scrunches his face as he counts every head again. If he counts himself and Kousuke then— “Isn’t there someone missing?”

Kousuke breaches the surface a few feet on, gasping from holding his breath for so long.

“Where’s your, uhm—” Taichi starts as soon as Kousuke swims in his general direction. He hesitates, trying to recall something he might have missed. Koushirou hadn’t been particularly forthcoming with the pronouns, and Taichi isn’t quite sure if that was calculative or not. He settles on, “Partner?”

Kousuke’s face falls immediately, his expression souring. Taichi’s surprised that he can even tell. He lets out a long huff, dropping his head just low enough beneath the surface that Taichi has to ask him to repeat. “Something came up with work,” Kousuke grumbles a little more clearly.

Taichi snorts. He makes it sound like a choice, rather than a responsibility. Oh, youth.

“Aren’t you in high school?”

“We are,” Kousuke says, averting his eyes from Taichi towards the shore. “Just— family stuff.”

“I see.” He doesn’t. Not really. But one thing Taichi’s learned over the years is when to let a subject go. Or, well, he’s trying. Sora would probably say that’s what really matters. “Sounds, uh, tough.”

“Yeah.” For a second they just tread water in silence before Kousuke adds, “I guess you of all people probably get it.” He swishes his mouth about into a wry, half-smile, eyes still locked in the general direction of the cabin. “But at least he meets you halfway.”

Taichi got lost somewhere. “Who?”

But he doesn’t get his answer as Kousuke dives back under the surface, kicking some of the water back in Taichi’s general direction on his way. He’s pretty sure that it’s extra probably on purpose this time. Little shit. Taichi just barely shields his face with his forearm in time.

“Don’t go past the buoys!” Keiko calls out as Kousuke emerges just on the other side of them, tsk ing as he lifts the rope up and over his head until he's technically back on the right side. Taichi turns back to see Keiko sinking contentedly into her chair.

She isn’t the only one on the beach anymore, Taichi notices. His stomach still stings where it had made contact with the water barely half an hour ago, but there’s a pleasant fluttering as well as he spots the little tuft of red hair poking over the top of a laptop. Koushirou has made camp at the single picnic bench, just between the lawn and the lip of the beach. He hasn’t noticed Taichi, at least not since he’s noticed, and he really, really hates that his first instinct is to get out and sit with him.

Instead Taichi sucks in a long breath and plunges back under the surface. Underneath is murky; any bit of sunlight penetrating through is just enough to illuminate specks of sand and dust skittering all around. Some of it glitters. Maybe if Taichi were in a better place, he might think it was pretty. Or poetic. Or something.

His chest just feels tight.

"Working?"

Koushirou starts at the sound of his voice, eyes slowly peeling off the laptop screen to look over at Taichi instead.

Taichi keeps to a respectful distance, toweling off his hair to aid the sun in drying it faster.

"No," Koushirou answers after a minute. His gaze darts back towards the screen, as if double checking himself. "Just emailing."

Taichi feels half of his mouth pull back. "What? Like for fun?"

Koushirou hums, his attention back on the letter now.

He can probably guess the recipient but Taichi still asks, "Who?"

"My American friend," is exactly who he expected.

"Right." Taichi wiggles his toes in the grass. It feels oddly like plastic, grating against the sand still clinging to his feet. He doesn't find it very pleasant. "What's he on now? Like his fifth doctorate?"

"Be nice."

"So, his sixth?"

Koushirou snorts. "Still only the three."

"Only the three," Taichi parrots. It sounds like they should be talking about how many pets he's got around the house, or parking tickets under his belt. Not advanced degrees.

Feeling sufficiently dry, Taichi slides onto the bench beside Koushirou. Without looking at him the other wonders, "Did you enjoy your swim?"

"Yeah. Most of it." His stomach stings at the reminder of his final dive into the lake. He doesn't elaborate even as Koushirou furrows his brows at the screen. Taichi watches him for a moment. "Tell him I said hi."

Koushirou's fingers hesitate on the keys. "Will do."

Taichi doesn't push it. He has no idea if Koushirou's ever mentioned him to his long distance penpal, even in all of the years Taichi's known of him. He must have. Maybe. In vague passing at the very least. They're best friends after all. Nearly inseparable at times. There must have been one instance of, "Listen to this dumb thing my friend did."

He folds the towel around his arms and uses it to cushion his chin as he leans over the tabletop. Sunlight dips between the miniscule waves born from the several boats treading their way back home in the distance. Even with Kousuke still splashing around, it all looks very peaceful. Taichi wishes his mood could match the atmosphere.

Taichi buries his head into the fabric, swallowing back a groan. It’s not that he thinks Koushriou would snub him— not on purpose, anyway. Mostly, Taichi just lacks confidence. Sure, he’s maybe helped save the world half a dozen times, but he doesn’t think Koushirou would find that very impressive since he’d been there, too, with a front row seat to most of Taichi’s tribulations.

He rolls his head over to stare up at Koushirou, still focused on his virtual conversation. Under the attention of the sun, his hair looks all the more vibrant and Taichi wonders what he’s done to keep someone like Koushirou around for so long.

"Don’t drip on the carpet!"

Taichi turns at the sound of Keiko's voice from the other end of the small beach.

"Yeah, yeah," Kousuke calls back to his mom, trudging up the lawn toward the cabin. He catches Taichi's gaze just as he’s about to pass by their table, his lips pulling back into a grin. "Need an ice pack?"

"Are you feeling sick?" Koushirou asks softly. Taichi frowns.

"No?"

Kousuke shrugs. "Just figured you might still be hurting from that glorious belly flop."

Color drains from his face as Kousuke rushes up the steps and right into the cabin, the screen door snapping shut on his heels. On the porch Kae startles at the unexpected sound.

Taichi makes a face. He's probably dripping all over the carpet.

"Does your stomach hurt?" Taichi turns to catch Koushirou's concerned stare. What color he had lost just a moment ago returns to his cheeks vigorously.

Instead of answering, Taichi lets out a short laugh. "Kids these days, huh?"

Koushirou wrinkles his brows. "You aren't particularly advanced in age."

“I’m getting up there,” Taichi hums. He leans forward again onto the pillow he fashioned from his towel. Overhead the sun bares down on his neck, heavy and hot. As the thought comes to him, Taichi presses his grin into the fabric. “But on the bright side maybe I’ll finally have a chance with Grandma.”

Koushirou chokes. On air, Taichi presumes. "Are you insinuating my grandmother is your type?"

"Oh, I think I more than just insinuated it." Taichi turns his grin up at him then, long and toothy and Koushirou can’t seem to tame his own.

"I'll inform you if she expresses the desire to remarry."

"Yeah, do that."

Taichi can faintly hear Masami's firm and distinctive voice somewhere over his shoulder. Loons cry and birds chirp somewhere out along the distance, and beside him the ever faithful click click clacking of Koushirou’s fingers against his keyboard fills in the quiet. It's almost like a lullaby. On their own accord, Taichi’s eyes droop close.

"You're probably the only people in the whole world who still email for fun," he murmurs.

He feels as much as he hears Koushirou halt. Taichi can easily imagine the perplexed frown hanging on his lips. "That's wholly untrue."

"I don't know," Taichi lilts. A soft breeze passes over them, fluttering through his bangs.

"We've sent emails before."

"Yeah," Taichi snorts, "like ages ago. You might actually be the last person I ever wrote an email to. Outside of a professor." Koushirou hums distantly. When he doesn’t say anything further Taichi wonders, "What are you doing?"

"Looking for an email."

"A non-work email?” Koushirou makes another distracted sound, letting Taichi know he’s heard him but isn’t quite listening anymore. “It has to be for fun,” Taichi adds anyway. “And if you go back to 2010 that’s cheating.”

“Mimi,” is the absolute last name Taichi expects to hear.

He blinks his eyes open and squints suspiciously at his best friend. "When did you start telling such blatant lies, Izumi."

"It's not a lie," Koushirou huffs, looking back down at him. He presses a finger to the screen Taichi can't even see with the most absolute confidence. "It's right here."

Taichi already believes him, but he still asks, "From this century?"

"Yes."

Taichi pops up to get his own look at the email. Koushirou scoots over minutely to accommodate him closer, but Taichi still needs to rest a hand on his shoulder to get a more comfortable look as he leans over, using his free hand to rub at his eyes. When they finally adjust to the brightness of the screen, Taichi scans the message, mouthing along as he reads all the colorful fonts. There’s an unhealthy array of emojis breaking up every other word that makes his head hurt.

"A chain letter," he scoffs. "She sent you a chain letter."

"Yes," Koushirou agrees, “which she sent for fun." He scrolls back up to the top and taps the section where the sent date is displayed. "Less than a year ago."

"Well," Taichi smacks his lips. “Now that you opened you gotta send it on to ten people or else you’re cursed.” He can’t contain the jocular grin pulling up his lips as he adds, “Hope you got ten email buddies.”

"I'll manage," Koushirou tells him. His wry smile when he rounds it on Taichi is so very, very cute. And so very, very close. Like too close. Koushirou’s eyes look bright where they catch the sun and for a very long moment Taichi honestly can’t remember what it’s like to breathe.

An elbow to the side of his stomach cures Taichi of that rather swiftly, aided only by a sharp dig into his shoulder. When he snaps, "Hey!" it’s more out of surprise than actual affront.

Koushirou has managed a small distance between them while still seated on the bench, his jaw slack and eyes larger than Taichi’s ever known them.

Taichi stares back. Both his side and shoulder ache and he can’t seem to make up his mind on which is worth nursing first, so he just leaves the hand that had been perched on Koushirou’s shoulder hanging in the air. Slowly Taichi offers an habitual, “I’m sorry?” even though he’s not entirely sure he did anything wrong this time.

"You boys alright?" Keiko calls out to them from across the beach. Taichi doesn't know what to say. Even if he did, he's not sure he can get his mouth to work any more than it already has. A first.

"I—" Koushirou starts. His eyes dart from Taichi, to somewhere over his shoulder, then back again. Finally he manages a rather composed sounding, "Yes," but Taichi knows this time it’s a lie. He also knows it's not meant for him.

Keiko doesn't ask any further. At least not that Taichi hears. Blood rushes about between his ears and all he can do is stare as Koushirou frantically snaps his laptop closed and shoves it into a bag on the table.

"I'm sorry," Koushirou offers to him, head down. "You were just—" he zips up the bag and throws it over his shoulder, mouth pressed into a thin line. He finally decides on, "Cold."

Another lie, Taichi thinks. He certainly doesn’t feel cold anymore. Not on the outside. Still he mutters, “Sorry.”

Koushirou sends him a wobbly smile. "Don't be. It's not— you're fine."

And then he’s gone.

Taichi controls his gaze onto the table top. The paint is so weathered it’s barely even there anymore, just scratches of green still clinging to the ashened wood. He stays there for a while, just waiting for his head to stop spinning.

"Everything alright?" Keiko asks him, lifting her sunglasses up high enough to look directly at Taichi as he hobbles down towards the shore with his towel tucked under his arm a short while later. She motions for him to come closer and Taichi meets her halfway.

"Uh, yeah," he lies.

Taichi snaps his towel outwards and quickly lowers it down to the sand. The farther corners fold up and crinkle, inviting little grains to decorate the end of the fabric. He frowns but only bothers to pull the edges down flat. What's more dirt?

"It was just—" Taichi looks over to her when he finishes smoothing out the towel, almost like she might have an answer. Keiko just stares at him, still waiting for one herself. Under the shade of her giant beach umbrella, her blue eyes look only brighter. Taichi plops down onto the center of his towel. He doesn't really know what to say when he still isn't really sure what happened. He looks out to the far end of the lake. "Got him wet," he settles on. "Near his computer. You know."

Keiko clicks her tongue. "Oh, yes. I know."

Satisfied, she reaches over the arm of her chair and plucks up the novel she had left abandoned most of the afternoon. Her glasses slide easily back over her eyes and Taichi wonders if she can read anything like that. He flops onto his back and flings one of his arms over his eyes to keep the sun out of them. He should really start remembering to keep his own sunglasses on hand. He can’t remember if he even packed a pair. Maybe they're in his glove compartment. He’ll have to check later. And then probably get the keys from Koushirou, so he can finally lock his car.

If he musters up the courage to talk to him again at all this week, of course.

Taichi smacks both of his hands over his eyes, frustrated. He hates not knowing what he did wrong. Worse, he hates not knowing what it is with Koushirou. It feels unnatural. All his mind supplies is that he was touching his shoulder and Taichi’s almost absolutely certain he’s done that more than a few thousand times— so why?

Shame feels a lot heavier than fatigue. Taichi tries to let his muscles relax with a few long breaths in and out of his mouth, the way he’d learned sitting in on Hikari practicing yoga in the living room a few times. It just barely loosens the anxiety clamoring about in his chest, but the familiar touch of the sun sinks into his skin and it almost feels like enough. He tries not to think about it anymore.

It doesn't work.

But somewhere along the line, Taichi falls asleep. He only knows it when he wakes up to the distinctive sound of metal digging into the sand, and Grandma's soft voice melting in with the waves as they lap at the shore. At some point he comes to again, this time upon hearing his own name as Masami wonders if they should wake him. Taichi thinks to tell him then that he is awake, but his arm is heavy over his eyes and the sun is finally playing nice, so with very little effort at all Taichi falls right back into his late afternoon doze. He thinks Kousuke yells something from the deck, his only sign the slamming of the screen door again, and Keiko calling something back to him, but it fades somewhere into a blurry dream he doesn't quite remember.

When he does finally feel himself actually waking up with no chance of drifting back under, there is only silence on the beach. He flings his arms over and drops it over the sand just outside of the towel. Even though the sun's glare has significantly lessened, Taichi still feels the light burning his now sensitive eyes. He squints where he had last seen Keiko and sure enough the only sign any one had ever been there is the same beach chair, now joined with a matching pair, and a tightly closed umbrella still harpooned into the ground. There's no novel or sunglasses left behind.

A second towel he doesn't remember owning slips down into his lap as Taichi crunches into a sitting position.

"Grandma wanted to make certain you didn’t burn," a familiar voice informs him. Taichi looks up the other way just as Koushirou plods through the sand and plops down a short distance from his towel. He reaches through the space between them, proffering up a water bottle. Condensation drips off the plastic and leaves dark stains along the sand. "I brought you water."

Taichi has to lean a little bit over in order to grab the other end. He wastes no time in uncapping it and gulping down as much as possible while still managing to—just barely—breathe. Under his fingers the plastic crumples and pop. When he drops it onto the towel, it's entirely misshapen and practically empty. Taichi remembers to say in between a gasp of air, "Thanks."

Koushirou's eyes are on the farshore and Taichi wonders if the distance between them might be on purpose. He frowns. Hopefully it isn't anything permanent. He focuses his own eyesight onto the curl of red hair by Koushirou's ear. In the distance he can still make out the hue of orange catching on the clouds that dip below the treelines.

Taichi wishes he knew what Koushirou was thinking. Sometimes, he thinks he knows his best friend better than Taichi knows himself. Times like now, he isn't quite as sure. Maybe he knows nothing. Taichi clutches his arm around his stomach as it churns with a now all too familiar sense of queasiness.

"Oh," Koushirou begins, turning to tell him, "Mom says dinner will be ready soon." Immediately his eyes flicker down towards Taichi’s midsection before swiftly averting back towards the lake. Taichi can't tell if it's the shadow of the sun setting, or if his ears have flushed red. "Do you need," he stumbles for a moment and finally manages in a small voice, "an ice pack?"

Taichi thinks about it for a second, lowering his own gaze down to his arm. Any pain in his shoulder has since subsided with his nap. His stomach still hurts, but he suspects most of the pain is from nerves rather than the multiple wallops it’s sustained over the course of the afternoon. Taichi doesn’t think they make ice packs that can help with a bruised ego so he finally declines.

Koushirou hums. Taichi watches his fingers dig into the beach at his side. "At least stay hydrated tonight."

"Okay, mom," Taichi snorts. After a lifetime of soccer and spontaneous adventures, he absolutely does not need the reminder. But he reaches for the abandoned water bottle anyway and finishes what little he had left in a single gulp. Sand has somehow crawled it's way up the edges when Taichi hadn't been watching and it leaves his hands feeling grainy.

It's almost enough of a salve when Koushirou turns back to him with a soft smile, the sort he's always offered Taichi before. It eases something inside his chest. Maybe, he thinks, they'll be just fine, actually. Taichi returns the smile.

"We should go in," Koushirou presses, softly.

"Yeah, yeah. Right." Any bit of relief he had found drains out of his system completely. Taichi feels grimy, caked in lake water and sand. Sitting at the center of attention around a table of half-strangers while feeling his worst both inside and out sounds like a recipe for an absolutely terrible time. "Do you think I have time to hop in the shower first?"

"Only if you're expeditious." Koushirou's lips curl up further as he tacks on, "Grandpa."

Taichi kicks sand into his lap.

#taishirou #taishiro #otp: the only exception #sorry this took so long and is. Well. This.#But the next chapter is..... fluffier. I promise.#long post #sparkle garbage #digimon adventure #digimon is a fun series

14 notes · View notes

sxvxrxssnape · 4 years

Text

broken crayons and half a peanut butter cracker

snapetober day 28: “what did you do?” / day 25: headache plot what plot? there’s no plot in parenthood

Tentatively, he opened his eyes.

There wasn’t an immediate assault of pain as he blinked through the tired haze still enveloping him, so he figured it was safe to fully open them. Severus sat up, carding lazy fingers through his hair, and glared at the part in his curtains that allowed soft sunlight to filter into his bedroom.

He had gone to bed last night, suffering, after finding his jar of headache balm both empty and repurposed for inane childish use. He’d immediately binned the idea of staying up to brew a new batch, electing for an early bedtime and a moment of well-deserved peace under cool sheets instead.

It was early, especially for a Sunday morning, but the bright June sun had no qualms against rising as such. He might as well take this time to brew, before the next inevitable headache came.

Dressing quietly in a pair of trousers and a grey henley, Severus crept out of his room and peered through the door across the hall. He could make out the sprawled-out outline of a toddler fast asleep in their crib, the knitted blanket Minerva had made him only covering a singular foot. He sighed as he made out the rising and falling of a tiny chest and flicked his wand to fix the discarded blanket before closing the door with a gentle click.

He still wondered how they both ended up here.

There was a twist in his stomach, a tug on a shard of something sharp in his chest, whenever he thought about Lily. It had only been a couple of months since she had died - since she had been killed, not just at the hands of the Dark Lord, but in a way, also at the hands of himself.

Taking in the child who had nowhere else to go was the least he could do.

Jumping off the Astronomy Tower was the other, but Albus had warded the Observation Deck not too long after his breakdown in the circular office and though it irked him that the Headmaster had such little faith in his - admittedly - suicidal potions professor, he should at least know Severus wouldn’t do something quite so. . .dramatic.

Or maybe he would.

Fine, Albus had a point, but Severus was still allowed to be mad about it.

He grimaced as he walked into a discarded toy, accidentally causing the contraption of colorful plastic to light up and start singing. His wand was still in his hand, so he cast a silencing charm over the boy’s door and flicked the off switch on the activity cube.

The cube wasn’t the only thing littering the corridor, or the rest of his living space truth be told, and he could feel the remnants of last night’s headache reigniting. He could make out a half dozen jars scattered on the floor as well and scowled as he picked up the one holding something inside.

If that little brat was playing with expensive potion ingredients, he was going to owl him back to Hogwarts and demand Albus rehome him, no living relatives be damned.

Instead, he found it full of broken crayons and half a peanut butter cracker.

On second thought, he might just rehome him anyway.

He stalked into the kitchen and started brewing a pot of coffee, mentally going over the ingredients he would need to brew the much-needed headache balm. The sweet, earthy smell of dark-roasted Columbian beans permeated the air now, so he poured himself a mug and stirred in sugar.

He shook his head at the choice of mug - a tacky green thing that read “happy holidays” in the worst possible font - and took a long sip. It had been a gift from a first year - and not even one of his own first years at that, but a bloody Hufflepuff who wasn’t even good at potions - but last Christmas had been his first ever as a professor and despite scowling down at the child when handed the gift, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something whenever he looked at it.

So yes, he had packed up the stupid mug when term ended and it was time to go. It wasn’t even the strangest thing he had packed up. This time, he had an orphaned toddler he had been coerced - manipulated, guilt-tripped, asked by the child’s own dead mother, take your bloody pick - into taking with him.

At least he didn’t have to return to Spinner’s End.

If being handed the keys to a small cottage in Solva was the payment for raising a child, he supposed he could have done worse. Of course, the little house hadn’t been chosen with his comfort in mind, but more with the safety and well being of The Boy Who Lived.

Oh, Merlin.

He was really doing this, wasn’t he?

It had been easy when the school year was still ongoing - Minerva and Pomona especially, were keen to take little Harry Potter off his hands whenever he had a class to teach or potions to brew. He had just gotten the hang of walking then and could often be found stumbling through the castle corridors and babbling away to bewildered portraits and students alike.

Now though? Now it was him and him alone against an almost two-year-old who was insistent on getting into everything and disregarding every boundary Severus had set. He was just like his wretched father, but Minerva had simply laughed at him and insisted that’s just how toddlers were.

He didn’t bother to point out she had inadvertently called James Potter a toddler.

He was too busy freaking out over how his path had led him to this particular point in life. He didn’t know how to be a father - all he had to go off was what not to do, and that largely consisted of not shoving a child down the stairs or drinking himself stupid.

Severus finished his coffee and set the empty mug aside. He opened a cabinet and began pulling out what he would need, easily settling into the familiar routine of filling the cauldron with water, picking marjoram and peppermint from the windowsill planter, prepping his ingredients, and began brewing.

This wasn’t the first time he’d nearly thought himself into an anxiety attack over Harry’s permanent existence in his life. He didn’t even care how it had happened anymore, all he cared about was keeping the boy alive for the summer.

He’d deal with the the rest of his life part later.

He fished out the steeped bitterroots from the simmering cauldron and moved them to the cutting board, finely chopping up the softened magenta plant. Normally, he would discard them after this step, but he was intent on experimenting this morning in hopes of increasing the potency while also decreasing its unfortunate side effect of putting him to sleep after a few hours.

These days, he needed to be more alert and clear-headed.

Keeping the bitterroot in should do just that.

“Let’s see what happens then.”

Severus dropped about half of the chopped bitterroot into the cauldron and watched it carefully, wand at the ready in case the potion had an adverse reaction. The light blue brew was slowly becoming grey and he pursed his lips, adding a few more drops of peppermint oil as an inhibitor and nodded when the potion turned back to blue.

He turned the flames off and floated the cauldron onto the kitchen table, resting the hot pewter on top of a wayward oven mitt, admiring the ribbons of herb scented steam that curled from the finished potion. Now it just had to cool before he could store it - or test it.

Setting the cutting board back on the table, he took his assortment of knives and measuring devices to the sink and spelled the tap on. As water ran over the dishes, he began rifling through the refrigerator for anything he could use for breakfast.

It seemed they needed to make a trip to the local market soon - this afternoon, preferably - and he scowled at the thought. Picking up groceries wouldn’t be such a chore, he thought, if someone didn’t insist on picking up every interesting stone they passed or kept veering off the path to follow the ducks.

He was holding onto a carton of eggs and was moving aside containers of unlabeled potion ingredients for the last bit of swiss he knew was somewhere, when he heard an excited little yell sound off behind him.

He peered over his shoulder and dropped the carton of eggs in alarm.

“What are you - get down from there!” he shouted, taking in the scene before him.

The messy-haired, green-eyed one year old that should still have been asleep was now perched on top of the table - and how the bloody hell had he managed to climb up there?! - and was peering curiously into the waiting cauldron.

Harry had stepped in the remaining bitterroot and had a tiny fist full of Merlin knows what, and was sprinkling his finds into the cauldron just as he had seen his guardian do many times before.

Severus whipped out his wand and cast a shield charm on the cauldron as he rushed to the table and picked up the delighted child, moving him out of the way before the potion could potentially explode.

“What did you do?!” he demanded of the insufferable toddler, setting him down on the farthest possible counter and glaring down at him.

In response, Harry only clapped his hands and tried to peer over his guardian’s shoulder. “Ba!” he squealed, pointing at the cauldron.

Severus rubbed at his temple, another headache threatening to flare up. How had he been so careless to not listen in for Harry? To leave the cauldron somewhere he could reach - and how had he?! Hadn’t he learned better by now? The boy had been in his care for how long now? Six months altogether? Two weeks out of Hogwarts? And Merlin, what a mistake this was turning out to be.

He rested his forehead against Harry’s for a moment before setting him back down. He had half a mind to floo call Minerva and ask her to take Harry for the day while he brewed a new batch of headache balm and maybe drafted a plan to off himself.

He returned to the abandoned cauldron and blinked. The potion was still the same shade of blue he had left it. He swirled a stirring stick through it and eyed it carefully, but the balm soon became a muddy brown as he fully incorporated whatever Harry had added.

He tested a small bit of the potion on the inside of his wrist and hissed as the skin blistered, immediately wiping the ruined potion off on the hem of his shirt. He turned to glare at the toddler and found he had wandered over to the discarded carton of now-broken eggs and was playing with bits of shell, a bit of yolk rubbed into his curls.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake.” he sighed, in equal parts amusement and defeat. “What are you doing now?”

He vanished the eggs, much to the child’s confusion and levitated the spelled-clean, pajama-clad boy into the air. “Come, Mr. Potter, I believe we have breakfast to locate.” He reached over and turned the still running tap off and grabbed the floating child.

He hoped Minerva wouldn’t mind the company.

“Nack?”

Severus shook his head, biting back an affectionate grin as he grabbed his cloak and a handful of floo powder. “Yes, you can have a snack.” he confirmed, with a very serious voice, tossing the powder into the grate.

He draped the cloak over the boy, covering his face, and stepped into the fireplace. ------ self-indulgent trash where i based baby harry off what my own toddler did? he didnt ruin a headache balm but he definitely decided to drop a handful of odds and ends into my coffee cup so same thing. the egg incident was a nightmare and sev should consider himself lucky that he has magic

anyway, hello, for my birthday today i wrote neurotic dad!snape i might delete bc ik how dumb this was

#snapetober 2020 #severitus #snapedom #severus snape

87 notes · View notes

reversecreek · 3 years

Photo

MEET THE NPCS...

BOBBY YANG, “BIG BOB” .

1. how old are they and what do they look like?

thirty-four. implausibly tall. the day magda first saw a sketch of slenderman she thought of him. when her aunt shelly pulled up the dirt road to abernathy creek magda remembers seeing him through a dusty back window with his head bowed to avoid getting tree leaves in his eyes, joint between his lips, dungarees dirty and half unbuckled. one side of his hair is buzzed with no apparent style intention and he has a weed leaf tattooed behind his left ear. an elephant on his thigh. a name on his ankle he often wears a plaster over. once it soaked through and fell off in the creek and, newly glossy in the sun, nine year old magda reached to give it a blunt and shameless prod. big bob never explained who the name belonged to, he only reached to thumb at the minari growing by the water bed and talk about the fact it was a "versatile little sucker”.

2. if applicable, where and when did they meet your muse?

big bob introduced himself as such and magda raised her eyebrow in disbelief, the soul of a disgruntled pensioner in a seven yr old’s body. magda didn’t rly talk to anyone when she first arrived in her new home, verging on mute. she was angry at the move, angry that her dad hadn’t called her when she got there, angry that she didn’t know her mother’s voice to imagine it telling her everything was okay. the world made her so angry she didn’t want to acknowledge it. she sat outside in silence for a long time letting a ladybug crawl over her hand, and big bob didn’t ask anything of her, he only schlepped closer and presented her with a buttercup. she looked at it like it’d spat in her face but took it nonetheless. it was strange having an actual bed, if you could call a bare mattress that, used to sleeping on the sofa in shelly’s old trailer, and the springs nipped at her like a dog demanding treats, so she wandered outside in one of shelly’s big tie dye shirts like a nightdress, searching for the moon. big bob was standing out there already in the overgrown grass, stark naked, chin lifted to gawk at the moon himself. magda didn’t disturb him. this is when she first discovered his habit of naked sleepwalking. abernathy creek felt like a bird house overrun with all kinds of eccentric, squawking parakeets. it was a lot for a seven yr old to take in. this was a strange reality she’d never signed up for, swallowed by the commune to overheat inside it’s belly.

3. what kind of a presence do they have in your muse’s life? do they have a positive or negative relationship?

bob’s definitely a character. three times now he’s slipped hallucinogens into magda’s tea without her knowing under the impression that this is just harmless fun and he’s actually helping her by pushing her little boat to bob along the ocean of enlightenment, once at as young as 16. every time she realises he’s like “y’just got bobbeddddd!” and magda’s like here we go ig. told her the raw earth has healing properties to explain why he’d dug up the grass just to rub his hands in the soil and lay there like a panting, overheated dog. he’s an important component to abernathy creek and oversees a lot of the agriculture there. rigged up the irrigation system himself using copper pipes that magda suspects were stolen. the beat up camper van that’s usually parked up behind abernathy and hidden under leafy branches appeared when he did, apparently, although he insists it belongs to everyone. he leads the crusades to drive it up to the mountains and take a group of abernathy creek residents shroom picking. he’s in charge of drying them for selling, too. jack of all trades, really. magda claims not to care for him (or anyone) but she still walked out onto the grass, took his hand and lead him inside whenever she found him sleepwalking at night in her teens. once a group of kids were daring each other to get closer when he was out there and magda threw a stone so hard at one of their shin’s it split it open and made them scatter. but again, magda “does not care about him”. the jury is not convinced.

4. are they revered in irving? do they have bad blood with anyone?

honestly everyone in irving probably thinks he’s a rly strange guy and i won’t fk around. he kind of is. wears many necklaces around his neck n one is just a pouch that has a prehistoric mosquito encased in a little piece of amber inside. sometimes magda wonders if he likes to play up to his reputation by putting it on a little bit. once she saw him suddenly jerking his head like a pecking chicken and saying “g’warn GET” to scare a random middle aged hiker into galloping in the opposite direction in the trees near abernathy. has a masterful knowledge of bird songs and can imitate them all impeccably. sometimes does this instead of replying with words. never cares about the holes in his shoes where his toes poke out. always seems to be turning a rusty coin between his fingers like it helps him think. he makes moonshine that will knock u off ur feet tho which is always a good time if ur lucky enough to try it. he has a very rich n warm voice like a log fire or a gooey chocolate brownie. even with all of his oddities he sounds kind. he’s very unconventional n doesn’t abide by rules of society a lot but he’s quite funny n a good time. makes engaging smalltalk if u treat him with respect. weird but admittedly a tiny bit wonderful.

OTIS WOLFE.

1. how old are they and what do they look like?

forty-six but he looks older. the skin beneath his eyes is subtly purpled like it’s been dyed by a lick of beetroot juice. he has a very charismatic walk which doesn’t sound like it makes sense but it does to look at him. he walks everywhere buoyantly and with purpose. very high energy in his good days. lives everything in large quantities, good and bad. always used to wear a tan leather bomber jacket when magda was growing up but he forgot it w her one visit n it’s the only time she’s known him to call up two days after leaving to ask if she’d seen it. magda lied and said she hadn’t. she still has it to this day. sleeps in it on her bad days. otis has a smile so big it shines like live wires are sparking in his mouth. magda’s fingertips prickle like she’s an hour recovering from shoving a fork into a plug socket whenever she sees it. she used to think that’s what excitement felt like. that used to be true.

2. what kind of a presence do they have in your muse’s life? do they have a positive or negative relationship?

it’s very complicated. magda knows her dad isn’t a good person but she knows he isn’t a bad person either. sometimes it’s more frustrating to see things in grey because you just want something solid to take shape that u can actually put ur finger on. she finds herself perpetually stood at a fork in the road between believing in him still and deciding he’s no good. sometimes she’ll start walking in one direction only to realise it loops back on itself and she’s right back where she started. otis has given her a lot of fun “adventures”. taught her how to juggle. they stayed in a hotel on someone else’s credit card once and racked up a gargantuan tab ordering every form of room service and renting godzilla and the matrix on pay per view when she was 11. sometimes he’d use her in gimmicks where she had to lie and pretend she had a health condition so they could get a few bucks off charitable strangers on a street corner and under the veil of youth magda found playing up these roles funny because who would ever believe that? wasn’t everyone in the world so stupid except them? it was nice being part of his team. his “little wolfie”. but then a lot of things weren’t nice either. he’s left her stranded on the side of the road with nowhere to go on more than one occasion. he’s passed out in motel corridors and she’s had to lug him into a bed. he’s forgotten almost every birthday apart from one where he sent a card with five dollars inside and handwriting so squiggly she could tell he was drunk when he wrote it. he doesn’t know she likes to sing because he’s only ever listened when he’s fallen asleep. otis is all of magda’s heart and that’s why sometimes she likes to forget that it’s beating.

3. are they revered in irving? do they have bad blood with anyone?

he’s very flighty n rarely in irving any more tbh but was more when magda was younger n his visits were a little less sporadic. probably owes a bunch of people money for some reason or another. smashed up fannie’s recently when he turned up drunk and got ahead of himself on a giddy n frenzied rampage in the name of “fun” n “just having a laugh”. magda’s aunt shelly really doesn’t get on with her brother n thinks he’s a complete deadbeat waste of space n resents him a lot for the impact he’s had on magda. magda remembers being little and peeking through a crack in shelly’s trailer door when he turned up drunk one time to collect her for a visit n shelly wouldn’t let him in. something along the lines of “you don’t give a rat’s ass about that little girl” and “she worships you, y’know that? most of the time, you don’t even remember her name”. magda crept back onto the sofa and pretended to be asleep by the time she came inside.

4. if your muse is no longer in contact with them, how did the relationship end? did your muse get closure over this?

magda slowly stopped trying to keep in contact over the years. it got embarrassing trying so hard when she didn’t get much back. like pushing a boulder all the way up a hill only to watch it roll back down again. it’s probably contributed a lot towards magda’s inability to really try with people like she should, especially when her heart’s involved. she doesn’t want to be humiliated again. magda hasn’t spoken to her dad in person in almost a year. they had a phone call about seven months back but it turned out to be a butt dial and he hung up because he was in the middle of a conversation at some bar about the moon landing conspiracy. magda’s playlist that i have for her is called “a rodeo clown in a revolving door” which is basically the role otis serves in magda’s life. always in and out. never constant. gone more than he’s there, especially lately. idk if magda will ever get closure over that. she certainly hasn’t now. pouts my fuckable lips to the side w a hand on hip and triple f’s prominent.

#irvingtask002 #magda | muse #drugs tw #alcoholism tw #i said i was gna do hunter too but i simply just dnt have the energy i wont lie. so big bob n otis are all i have to present...... holds ban #omg. bang.#mayb i do more editions of this task for magda in future bc #i have hunter n shelly tht i wna write up....

18 notes · View notes

madyxtothemax · 3 years

Text

The Pit Stop - Part One with @MyArrowBends

Atticus:

-After a few days, the roads and sights began to blur together. Each truck stop was the same. The coffee all tasted the same and the bathrooms were all equally disgusting. I had enjoyed the solitude at first, but was now beginning to get a little stir crazy, and despite having bought a thicker foam for the bed, it still wasn’t the greatest sleep I’d ever had.

As I crossed into California, I found myself craving human interaction, and more important than that, I had decided one way or another I would be sleeping in an actual bed tonight. As I gassed up at another same looking, shitty coffee making gas station, I didn’t bother checking google for any nearby hotels, figuring I’d stop when I grew tired and see what was close at that point.

The hours passed and the sun was inching down toward the horizon with a speed that my van couldn’t seem to match. Dusk had settled and on the horizon I could see a cluster of lights that belonged to a city. I wasn’t sure which one it was, it didn’t matter. I had stopped paying attention to the names at this point since I didn’t really have a destination in mind. I would know when I was ready to stop and until I felt that feeling, I’d keep driving west.

As the city lights grew closer, that same feeling of from earlier in the day returned. I was ready to find a motel for the night, maybe even somewhere I could grab a drink and a greasy burger. The potential for brief human interaction had a grin pulling the corners of my lips up.

Still, I avoided searching something out on my phone, wanting to see what I could find on my own. Exiting off the freeway, and making my way toward the city, my eyes searched the buildings as I passed them by. Disappointingly, nothing much seemed to be open...at least nothing that grabbed my attention or sparked any interest. I wanted to find something local, I wasn’t interested in any kind of franchise. Those places were not geared toward any kind of interaction, speed and efficiency was their purpose.

Finally after a few turns bringing me deeper into the city, I spotted a neon sign. The bright OPEN flashing in the door was the only invitation I needed. Admittedly, I wasn’t paying proper attention because I was still needing to keep an eye on the road, but as I pulled my van over to the sidewalk and looked up at the sign to fully read it, I couldn’t stop my laughter as it filled the quiet around me.

A tattoo shop.

I was not a collector of skin art, even though I liked it, I had never really felt a desire or pull to permanently mark my body with any sort of image. But I could see people inside, and I could go in and look around. I could get that human interaction I was craving even if I had zero intentions of getting a tattoo. Yeah. I could do that.

Twisting the key in the ignition to turn off the engine, I unbuckled my seatbelt and made my way toward the door, noting the time on the door before opening it. I paused to check the time on my phone...they weren’t too far from closing. Perfect. Just enough time to have myself a casual conversation with someone about something I’d never follow through on before finding myself some food and a bed to sleep on.-

Madyx:

<I’d woken with it, the unshakable intuition alerting me that something was on the way. Something for me to attend to. Something significant. Someone to benefit from my unique abilities. Something to shake up the doldrums of a monotonous wave of months.

As the hours in the day had passed like any other with a few window shoppers, bookings and not much more, whatever I had been anticipating hadn’t materialized. My intuition wasn’t normally so off, in fact I momentarily wondered if I’d pissed off the wrong people and lost my privileges. But, nah, I couldn’t shake it, even as the hours ticked down to less than fifteen minutes before the neon went dark.

Having just finished with the people who’d shown up to book a session with Jordan, I was relegated to the idea I’d served as a glorified personal assistant for the day. Hell, I hadn’t even done a single piercing, let alone expressed anything in ink. At least Jordan would be pleased with what I’d lined up for her; a lot of people looking to lose their memories and oh-so-many willing to accept whatever consequences came with those choices.

I had my back turned as the group of three left, the bell chiming their exit. Oddly, the shop didn’t feel empty; I wasn’t alone after all.

Turning, I was unsurprised to see a guy had wandered in just as the others had left. First impression was strong: he looked road weary, like he’d been places, but he wasn’t weighted by fatigue - nope. He wore whatever travels he’d been on with an earnestness. He wasn’t unkempt, but it looked like he hadn’t had a shave in a few days, and there was nothing that could have been done to conceal that he was damn gorgeous. I’d need to see more skin to know if there was any ink hidden under the clothes, and there were no visible piercings… visible being the operative word…

Right.

I detoured my thoughts from veering in the direction of the gutter and noted the feeling that surfaced during the day had morphed into something more tangible.

Well then.

I walked his way, which conveniently enough, was in the direction of the sign that was about to go dark. He, whoever he was, already had an unspoken invitation to stay as long as he liked.>

Hey man, anything I can help you with?

Atticus:

-As I stood at the door, hand gripping the handle while sliding my phone into my back pocket, I looked up in time to see three people headed my way. I swung the door open and held it for them, offering an easy smile as they passed and spoke with an excitement I suddenly realized I wanted to feel. Seeing it on others left me no choice but to notice that I was heavily lacking that type of emotion in my own life. Sure, I had bought my van and felt the excitement and when I hit the road, it was there. But it was surface level excitement.

I wanted to feel the rush of doing something impactful in my life. I still wanted to have some kind of human contact, and while my opinion and lack of desire to ink my skin hadn’t changed in the thirty seconds it took for me to hold a door open and walk inside the shop, I was definitely more open to suggestions.

The guy who was working had his back to me. That was fine, he was busy and I had all the time in the world to wait to be noticed. Rather than doing something obnoxious like clearing my throat, I turned and began to look at the flash on the walls. Each page was neatly framed and hung with obvious care. Not a single one was off kilter. It made me smile. Anyone who paid this much attention to detail truly cared about what they did. I was envious of their passion.

I didn’t even have artwork that had hung on the walls in my office back in New York. Maybe if I had, my attitude toward being stuck behind a desk all day would have improved. Likely not.

As I scanned a page filled with anchors, ships and pinup girls, a voice was directed at me. I had been so lost in my head, I forgot my entire reason for stepping into a shop I had no business being in. Turning my attention on the guy, I paused at his question. Shit. Instant attraction. I couldn’t remember the last time that had ever happened. My dick twitched as if to say, SURPRISE I still work! I felt completely disarmed. A fraud. An imposter. I couldn’t help the laugh that was two parts guilt and one part eagerness.

“...anything I can help you with…”

Was there anything he could help me with? ...yes there certainly was, but I really didn’t want to admit that or what my initial reaction to him had been. My eyes searched his face first and then his gaze as it remained on me. His eyes were warm and welcoming the way my beloved hoodie felt each time I put it on.

I was taking too long to answer but he didn’t seem to mind considering I was one of those assholes who showed up 15 minutes before closing. Remembering my entire reason for coming in here, to have a conversation with someone, I lifted my hand to the frame on the wall I had been looking at and grinned lazily at him, one side slightly higher than the other as I answered his question with one of my own.- Do you know who drew these?

Madyx:

<The closer I got, the better my last call was looking. He appeared to be admiring what he saw on the wall which was a lift to my confidence after a day of nada. I was starting to pick up on the energy he was throwing off, and it was coming through strong. He was rife with a quiet excitement, like he was flirting with epiphanies and on the edge of taking chances. I was feeling it on a vibration much higher than my norm. Instant clarity. I relaxed into myself after his arrival helped me shake that unrequited anticipation I’d battled all day.

When his eyes flicked off the art on the wall to me, I was ill prepared. His steel-blue irises were rimmed in navy, and subtly backlit; his gaze flecked with mischief. The cut of his jaw was a visual temptation outfitted with an infuriatingly attractive amount of scruff. His laugh broke me out of my preoccupation. It was telling, but only thanks to my extra sensory skills.

His grin though… that was what slayed me where I stood. Crooked and slow, even stretched his lips were full and fetching. Literally, I couldn’t have hand-picked the features of my non-type type more perfectly. He was exactly what I liked in a guy, at least physically.

The lift of his hand to indicate the frame on the wall brought up my stare. A confident grin preceded my answer.>

That would be me. But those are some of my more generic samples. I’ve got a book you can check if you’re in the market. Unless you’ve already got something specific in mind?

Atticus:

-The weight of this guy’s stare left me feeling some kind of way. At first, I thought I might be getting one of those he’s into you vibes, but then he answered my question and doubt began to creep back in. Maybe he was one of those people who were far too perceptive and he could smell the scent of wannabe all over me.

No, I didn’t have anything in mind. I wasn’t interested in getting a tattoo, which was how I felt before I opened the door. I just wanted to have a conversation. Seemed the only way for me to do that without him getting annoyed that I was wasting his time so close to the end of the day was to keep looking at his work. I could do that, wanted to, actually.

I shook my head, answering as honestly and non-committal as possible as his gaze hit me with a pointed once over. All right. I knew that look. I had given it out a time or two myself. I felt more confident as I found my voice again.-

No. I don’t have anything specific in mind. I’m not exactly the type to just fill my skin with ink. -I paused and considered how my words sounded then quickly added to it so as not to insult the guy who clearly had no problem filling his own skin with ink which I suddenly wanted to check out every bit of.- I mean, not without research, that is. I’d love to see your book.

-As he guided me to where a few different books sat on top of the glass countertop, I noticed each one had a different name on the spine. The one he gave me said Madyx. I grinned at him again and flipped open the cover. There were pages of photos of tattoos done on people. Some pages had drawings, too, and I took my time looking at each one. The silence between us was comfortable and easy. When my eyes landed on a particularly colourful image that took up someone’s entire back I paused to study it.- Wow. This one must have taken quite a while. Your work is incredible, Madyx.

-I chanced a glance his way as I said his name so he knew I wasn’t just blowing smoke up his ass, before looking back down and flipping another page. I was beginning to feel like I was leading him on knowing I wasn’t going to be in town long enough to commit any kind of time like that, even if I did want ink. Which in the three minutes since I last asked myself, still hadn’t changed. I couldn’t pull the trigger on something that permanent. Plus, a tattoo that large would have taken more than one session, I knew that much. As I shifted from foot to foot, trying to figure out how to let him know I was sorry to have wasted his time, the light caught something below the glass counter. It was a showcase of sorts filled with what I assumed was body jewelry. My stomach lurched and adrenaline surged through my veins. I’d always been interested in getting a piercing, maybe...it was far less permanent than ink and wouldn’t take even a fraction of time.-

Do you only do tattoos? -Sliding the book to the side a little, I checked out the display of hardware with more than the curious interest I had previously given to his artwork.-

Madyx:

<Gorgeous seemed to be stalling. I sensed a reluctance I couldn’t quite define. I was starting to think it was definitely his first time, or maybe he was just feeling out the idea. BULLSEYE. He admitted as much by answering that he wasn’t the type to fill his skin with ink, but I wasn’t offended, nope. His eyes seemed to reflexively land on my own collection of pieces, and I wanted to invite him to gawk with those blues all he wanted.

I didn’t care if he didn’t want any work only that it might end up in him leaving sooner rather than later. I was not down with that. I almost missed when he caught his self-perceived fuck up, but was nearly punch-drunk when he took me up on the offer to check out my book. Normally I wouldn’t waste someone’s time if they weren’t actually intent on letting me scratch my artistic itch, but he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave and, duh, same page.

I handed off the book and he seemed to be truly checking it out. There was an excitement for me, one I hadn’t quite tasted. It was a thousand flavors, custom made...meant for me. Yeah, this was hitting way below the epidermis, into the bone, and below the belt, too. When he stopped on the page he did, my gut twisted in the best way, he just so happened to land on the favorite piece I’d ever laid down in ink. It had been inspired by Klimt’s “The Kiss” per the patron’s request, but with several liberties worked into the artistic elements. Instead of an obscure male and female, it was clearly two males. It had morphed from a symbolist piece to something more sci-fi and steampunk. There were three dimensional aspects and an inordinate amount of intricate details, like any provoking piece, it begged look after look. In total it had taken 36 hours in six sessions. I would have got lost thinking about it if something else hadn’t caught my attention - my name. The intention in his tone was unmistakable. Now we were getting somewhere.

I didn’t even care that we didn’t discuss that tatt he’d stopped on, it was logged into the distant past when his attention shifted to the display of body jewelry. I walked to the opposite side of the counter, light shining up from the backlit case, we were closer to face to face and hell-to-the-yes; I saw the change in his posture. We were REALLY getting somewhere.

I handle the piercings, too. <clearing the space of the books for the full view> But before we get to that, we need to level the playing field. Got a name or should I just call you gorgeous?

Atticus:

-Generally speaking, I was not always very quick to pick up the cues when someone was flirting with me. It usually took a couple of are they or aren’t they moments before I caught on and then properly joined in on the exchange of the flirting game. Tonight it only took me two of those moments. First when I caught sight of him looking me over and then again, just now when he called me gorgeous.

My grin at Madyx was instant and interested as I answered, holding out my hand to him for a shake, as proper dudes do.- Atticus.

-When his hand slid into mine, I gave it a solid squeeze, and chanced a light brush of my thumb over the back of his before releasing it. His hand was warm and slightly rough on the palm, not at all unpleasant, the kind of hand that knew how to do hard work and wasn’t afraid of it. Not at all like my paper-pushing, then couch lazing hands. The most work mine had been doing lately had been flicking a signal indicator for left and right.

As I returned my attention back to the display of body jewelry, I briefly thought about the other places I might enjoy the rough grip of his hands and damn near groaned. My dick was more than on board and before I could pitch any kind of tents of embarrassment, I considered piercing the damn thing just to get it to go back down. As far as ideas one might think about to initiate a cooling down effect on their body, this one should have worked for bringing my semi back to completely flaccid. Should have.

It didn’t.

The more I imagined Madyx jamming a needle through my most sensitive flesh, the more my pulse quickened and the more I discovered that I liked the idea. Fuck. Guess my body had decided for me. I now only needed to man up and tell the guy what I wanted. Vocalization time. If I couldn’t ask for the damn piercing, I did not deserve to have his hands on me, and that, judging by the sinking pit my stomach had just become was not at all what I wanted.

Given how everything else I had done since rolling into this town has been on impulse decision making, I let my mouth run without much consultation with my brain, and hoped for the best.-

I’d like to be handled. -Welp. That was a wide open innuendo of his own words that couldn’t be taken back now. Guess I wasn’t going with my usual subtle approach, then again, nothing about this encounter was close to my usual.- A piercing, maybe two? Do you have time tonight? I noticed the sign said you were closing right away. I can always come back tomorrow if you need to close up and get out of here...

-I wouldn’t keep him if he had somewhere else to be, but I really didn’t want to wait until tomorrow, I was too afraid of losing my nerve or even worse, waking up having decided I suddenly wanted an entire back piece devoted to body piercings. I shuddered at that particular thought before shaking my head, waiting to see if he was game for some over time before I even broached the topic of where I wanted him to pierce me.-

Madyx:

<There was the grin again, but this one drew me in like it was baited with something addictive. I wanted a taste. I also wanted to hear him say my name again, that was until he told me his.

Atticus.

As if I wasn’t already in deep shit with the grin, he had to go and share a name with one of my favorite literary characters. I wanted to roll it around in my brain on a loop, then say it out loud so I could see how it would feel in the slide off my tongue. I swallowed thickly and dropped my hand into the one he offered for a shake, setting off a chain reaction I had in no way expected.

Our hands fit like they belonged to each other, his warmth matched mine but his skin was smoother, more pliant. My eyes hit his just as I felt the subtle stroke of his thumb on mine. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and an electrifying buzz scaled my spine, then split and radiated north, east, south and west. My heart started to race in an erratic beat against my rib cage. When heat balled in my gut and prickled along the underside of my dick, it finally registered what was going on. Pleasure had always been my gift, but I had only played delivery boy and spectator so I hadn’t immediately recognized my receptivity. And it was specifically something about him…. I could feel his desire commingling with mine, the energy and tension between us behaving like a magnet...SNAP.

Shit. For the first time in my life I was on the other side of the glass I’d always looked through. He was human, it shouldn’t be possible, but his singular, innocent touch had been undeniably thrill inducing. My mind and body were both fully engaged. If it wasn’t for the loss of his hand and his next words, I probably would have stood there in silence like a mooning asshat…. Lost in his eyes and all that.

But, HELLO, he wanted to be handled. I crossed my arms casually over my chest and couldn’t suppress the sideways smirk that came on quick. I’d handle him all he wanted, and with curiosity layering on top of the attraction to him, I wasn’t going to be shy.

I kept getting hit with solid signals from him, they were unlike anything I’d ever felt, and somehow I knew he was also outside of his norm, but completely natural. My attention perked when he brought up piercings and something about coming back tomorrow.

Time to perish that thought.

Shaking my head, I dropped my hands in a wide sprawl on the display case, leaning towards him.>

I’ve got the time and my place is just upstairs. So what do you want, Atticus? <The question was meant to be overt and open ended. And if I loved learning his name… saying it packed a thousand times the punch.> And for the record, I’d love to handle you. <It was shameless and I was not at all sorry.>

Atticus:

-He lived upstairs...I laughed at the immediate thoughts that came to mind then shook my head slowly, speaking quickly before he could get any kind of insulted.-

Seems for the moment we are neighbours, Madyx. -The hand that had just held his, because of course I would now be differentiating my hands by whether or not they had touched him, lifted and I thumbed over my shoulder to my van parked out front. As his eyes moved to where I had indicated, I stared at the way his lips curved up at the corners and my fingers twitched at my sides wanting nothing more than to touch him again.

Since it was generally frowned upon to yank a guy I’d just met over the counter and kiss him without giving him any kind of forewarning or chance to stop me, I cleared my throat and attempted to redirect my wayward thoughts back to what we had been talking about. He’d asked me a question and the proper thing to do was answer it. What did I want?

I knew what I wanted… HIM. But that wasn’t what he’d been asking no matter HOW suggestive his voice had sounded to my ears.

In my early twenties I had looked into piercings, researched all the types and varieties a guy could get as a means of using the knowledge to impress this one chick I had liked when I overheard her talking about how hot guys who had them were. It even worked, up to a point. Turned out, simply knowing about piercings was much different than actually having them, and when she discovered I didn’t actually have any, her interest in me wavered and she quickly moved on. At that point, I didn’t see the need to get anything done since I had started out wanting to impress her, my intentions had been shallow, and lacked the intent to follow through. But now...now, my intentions were less fueled with wanting to impress someone I was attracted to and more about self-discovery.

Tonight, the idea of getting a piercing made me feel more alive than I had in years. It was the right reason to pull the trigger on this. The gut churning excitement was the same I felt when I had called the number on the FOR SALE sign that had been hanging on the window the day I decided to buy my van. I was immediately grateful to the chick of my early twenties for having inspired me to do all that research, even if her rejection had been a blow to my fragile, immature ego.

Was I being impulsive now? Absolutely. But I already knew I wouldn’t regret this which was why without any uncertainty colouring my voice, my gaze found Madyx’s and I grinned confidently as I told him exactly what I wanted.-

I’d like the first two rungs of Jacob’s Ladder.

-I knew what I was asking for, and I hoped like hell the nickname for frenum piercings hadn’t changed in the years since I had done all that research. If it had, I fully expected him to laugh in my face and tell me to get my wannabe ass the hell out. I held my breath, and counted the thuds of my pulse as they wooshed in my ears feeling less and less confident in my answer as the seconds passed by that it took him to speak.-

Madyx:

<There were several impulsive words trying to fly off my tongue, but I was biding my time. I glanced past him when he indicated he was my neighbor, noting the tell tale silhouette of his VW bus. Currently nomadic, likely sleeping on a less than comfy mattress in the name of experience. The mentality someone must possess to live on impulse was a turn on, and it worked in my favor. Without knowing it, he was feeding me information and arming my artillery with all kinds of weapons to extend the night…because without explanation, I just wanted more with him. More time. More touch. MORE.

Atticus was setting off signals like flares in a moonless night, the attraction was undeniably mutual. I knew it, but did he? He would, I wasn’t letting him out of my company without shooting my shot. . My sensory grid was lighting up in a bright spectrum of greens, this was something fae only experienced in the rarest of circumstances. I knew what it meant but couldn’t delve into all that mythology on the spot.

Fuck that. I was just going to go with it.

And then he said it. What he wanted.

I knew there was more by the way his eyes flicked over my lips and the unequivocal energy that told me he was using restraint.

My brows shot up in reaction. My grin stretched a little wider. My dick bucked in my jeans clearly in support of this development. I toed the line of professionalism in my day to day operations, but this was beyond that. I couldn’t stop thinking about getting his cock out of his pants. With a casual swipe of my tongue between my lips, I opened the case, pulling out the options so we could get down to business. I knew he wasn’t going to run. I’d bet on it.>

You have piercings I can’t see? Or do I get first honors?

<fingering a few of the barbells to draw his eyes down, even though I loved the heat of them on me> Are you thinking the same size for each? Or a descending size? Grooved balls? <I smirked, couldn’t help it> Smooth?

We’ll get to gauge when I see what we’re working with, Atticus.

Atticus:

-Just as my lungs were beginning to burn for fresh oxygen, he spoke, and I exhaled slowly, controlling myself from letting out a sigh of relief so as not to let on how unsure of myself I had been feeling. There was no laughter or smirking from him that told me I had used an outdated slang. Excellent. I was starting to feel less and less like a poser with each follow up question he asked. He was very clearly taking my request seriously though I was not blind to the less than subtle moments of flirtation he was allowing to slip out with each exchange between us. And I was about to let him see my dick. I almost laughed. I held it in. Barely.

It was my turn to speak. Right, he needed answers. I could give those. With a grin and a rub of my hands together I chuckled as I got the first question squared away.- No. I don’t have any other piercings. You’re my first, Mad.

-My eyes dropped down to the tray of hardware he removed from the display case, ears working overtime to hear each of his rapid fire queries that I was delayed in noticing I had already shortened his name from Madyx to Mad. Both suited him, but if he was about to get face up in my junk without it being sexual I figured it was all right for me to shorten his name without expressed permission, that was how nicknames were supposed to happen anyway.-

Size. I hadn’t really considered that when I went and got overzealous with my request for two piercings. -Laughing low, my eyes moved between the various sizes of barbells he was showing me before making up my mind with ease.-

I want them to be the same. As far as accessories go, I’m a bit of a minimalist and the idea of gradually increasing seems a bit pompous if not arrogant to me. I can only imagine the size needed at the base if I went and got the great idea to complete the ladder. FUCK. -A shudder of regret for future me shot down my spine then ricocheted straight into the tip of my dick. All previous arousal swifty vacated my body and in a hurry. Decision made.- Yeah. definitely the same size. And smooth.

I also know enough from my research ages ago to know I won’t be looking to stretch out the gauge, either. No matter how fast these particular piercings tend to heal, I don’t want my dick to become a branch of a Christmas tree, sagging under the weight of a too heavy ornament. God, can you even imagine?! -The mental images that began to fill my mind had me laughing again.- Otherwise, any other decisions needing made, I will heed to your expert opinion.

Madyx:

<I caught his exhale and something about it felt like he was relieved, as if he’d just confessed a long held desire for the first time, and maybe I wasn’t so off the mark as he answered that I was his first. I didn’t have time for a smart ass remark about popping his cherry because of what he said right after.

Mad. He called me Mad. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, as if a hand had ghosted upwards, calling it to attention. The sensation carried up into my scalp, and even to the tips of my ears. How was it that something so damn simple was so affecting with him? It wasn’t the first time since he walked in my shop, and the longer he stayed, the more I was convinced there was more of it in store.

I took him in as he weighed his options out loud, none of his choices surprising me. I figured he’d want something understated, but I didn’t want to assume out loud and then have him reveal his elaborate plans for a rainbow ladder with alternating barbells down the back of his cock. That would have been a grave mistake!

I laughed my ass off when he referenced a Christmas tree sagging under the weight of a heavy ornament from sizing up the gauges, unable to stop myself.>

If the piercings look like too heavy ornaments and your dick a limp tree after piercings, then someone doesn’t know shit about shit when it comes to proper technique.

You’re in good hands, Atticus. I promise you that. <I flicked my eyes up to hopefully catch his, and thankfully I didn’t miss my target.> First, proper frenum piercings need to hit at the right depth to avoid that unfortunate look. Second, and counterintuitively, because of the skin, we’ll want to use a heavier gauge. With a lighter weight, during the healing process, it would push towards the surface, also resulting in the wrong appearance and a damn inconvenient dangling effect that could lead to unfortunate zipping incidents.

<Laughing, it was a feat to drop my eyes from his as I started selecting options to suit his taste>

You’ll want to consider width dependent on your head. Sight unseen, I think this brushed steel goes with your vibe.

You also have options when it comes to the size of the balls. <smirking, I laid a few out> You don’t have to decide standing here, we’ll bring them over to my station and you can see what looks right to you.

You ready? Need a beer? Something stronger? <My mouth on your cock to ease any nerves? I kept that last one on lockdown, lifting a brow, as I anxiously waited for his reply>

Atticus:

-My previously lost arousal was swiftly returning, and reaching tenting trouble territory when Madyx promised I’d be in good hands. Wouldn’t I just love to be in his hands. I stared at them while he sorted through the barbells, selecting some he thought would work. Long fingers, nimble and sure in their movements. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Now was not the time to learn I had a kink for hands, I’d never felt that way before, maybe they were just his hands I was lusting after, particularly when paired with this whole conversation that felt heavy with an undercurrent of attraction. I couldn’t deny it was flowing in both directions. He was making it pretty obvious, where I would have normally brushed it off as him being friendly in the beginning, I’d have to be blind to not see it now. I was damn sure seeing it.

Things were about to get very awkward if I didn’t get control over my body. I was a magnet drawn to a piece of metal, desperate to move closer, to obtain that satisfying click when the connection was finally made.

What was my life right now?

How could, of all the places I decided to stop on a whim have this guy right here, and have this kind of mutual attraction happen so effortlessly. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt that way toward someone and have them return it. Years, for sure. Many years. My eye was not exactly particular, it checked out chicks and dudes equally, but it took a lot to make me want a second glance.

Then he had to go and talk about ball sizing while smirking at me. I was starting to suspect he was playing with me. Cat toying with a mouse. Taunting my dick with his innuendo, coaxing it to come out of hiding and play his game. Did I want to? DUH. There was no denying how much I wanted to do just that.

But how does one go from piercing consultation to...Hey, you give me a boner, wanna hook up? Yeah…..no. He was hot, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was hit on all the time. Likely every day. I was certain of it. I didn’t want to be just some lame customer who was looking for an after hours special with the good looking tattoo shop guy.

Could I be any more of a cliche. I prided myself on being nothing of the sort...well I kind of was with my current on trend living in a van and travelling lifestyle. The only points working in my favour there was that I hadn’t documented a single moment of it outside of the memories in my mind. I wasn’t the next Van Guy with the Instagram worthy morning shots overlooking the ocean while holding a cup of coffee and casually displaying my abs for more likes. A thirst trap, I was not. I had higher standards than that.

Questions were being sent my way. Was I ready? What a loaded thing to ask, I laughed and hoped it didn’t sound as choked off to him as it did to my ears.- Yes. I’m ready. I’m good on the beer, for now. I think.

-I laughed again, this time it felt a little looser passing over my lips and I looked down at the tray of jewelry once more then looked back up at him, eyes finding his. Before I could stop myself, words tumbled out without much control over the content or how they’d be received, now was not the time to have shame or embarrassment, I needed to know if the situation in my jeans could be salvaged.- I once read that when getting dick tattoos, you had to be hard the whole time. Is the same true for piercings?

Madyx:

<The energy smacking me around was nothing I’d ever come across. Fuck. It was inexplicably intense, like we were plugged into each other and exchanging a charge. I was still mind-blown by what he was putting out. His subconscious and deep-seated pleasures were stimulating mine, as if they were dependent on one another. When I caught moments of him looking at me, my body reacted and my heart was thumping, driven by the physical and not so physical. I shut-up the internal analysis as much as I could and focused on what was in front of me.

Atticus was definitely anticipating, his excitement laced with nervousness inciting my extra fae receptors into overdrive. He covered pretty well, but his flustered laugh made me want to drop my jeans on the spot. I was stoked he’d declined the drink, especially since he’d slipped with the “for now.” Bingo. That was enough to confirm he wasn’t looking to bolt after I got up and personal with his cock.

The jewelry out, I let my attention land squarely back on him while he entertained what I’d displayed. It gave me a chance to scope the strong, lithe line of his back, and the sharp cut of his scruffed jaw. Hell, with every fresh recognition of his attributes, his hotness was intensifying right along with my craving for a thorough taste. While I had this fuck-me revelation, he was quiet, probably thinking about the dual-punctures I was about to put through his cock. I knew something was coming but the smirk that happened when he asked his question could not be helped.>

I’d like to see someone keep it hard through an entire inking. It only needs to be up for the stencil portion of the tattoo, after that there are creative ways to stretch a dick for the shading. As for you… <pursing my lips then rubbing them together> I’ll get the job done either way, as long as I can pinch the skin, I can pierce it. Generally, there’s more to work with when it’s not at attention. Chew on that and follow me.

<My smirk widened just before I broke eye contact and grabbed the tray of jewelry. Cocking my head in the direction of my station and the chair that would have him slightly reclined when he planted ass in it. I set the tray down and waited for him to get situated while I snapped on my gloves. When I turned around,shit, my eyes went straight south where it was hard to miss what was happening behind his zipper and before I could blow it, my eyes shot back to his. I couldn’t seem to stop doing that. I also couldn’t repress the urge to set him at ease and give him something to grab onto during this prelude to a pierce.

Playing it cool, casual, intent on finessing my approach, I took a seat on my stool, which kept us at eye level with one another. I knew he wanted this in my bones, but I was feeling the nerves from the risk of it. I stepped over the edge and took the cliff dive, the words passing over my lips as I felt a rush from the free fall.> How about you don’t leave after we’re done with business. <It was a question, but the way it came out sounded more like a statement. Unintentional. Organic. Assured. I dropped my eyes to his cock before they raked back up his body...to his suckable throat...his full lips...and back home to his grey-blue eyes.>

Atticus:

-“Chew on that and follow me.” Shit. He knew. He had to. There was no way he couldn’t tell I was already sporting wood. When he turned his back to me and headed to his station, I tried to chill myself the fuck out. Naturally my eyes landed on his ass and the fire that was in my veins ignited to an inferno and I knew there would be no way to get the blood to vacate my cock. This was going to be embarrassing for at least one of us in a couple of moments.

Did it matter though? I was just passing through town, at least that had been the plan when I entered the shop. I came in here looking for a conversation with another person and now I was about to leave with some metal accessories. I shook my head as I took a seat on the chair he wanted me in and took a few deeper breaths trying to slow the thundering of my heart.

I wasn’t shy about my body, never had been, but damn if I wasn’t worried about how he’d react when he took notice that I was more than eager to have his hands on me. Could I explain it away with a joke about being a masochist? Maybe, but it wasn’t true, not by the definition of the word.

As I spent precious time fretting in my mind he had turned around from setting down the tray and...YEP. I watched as Mad got himself an eyeful and like the professional I already figured he was, his gaze moved right past my crotch and straight up to my face.

He didn’t laugh. Or smile or even make a comment. The flirting that had been so natural halted. I didn’t know what to do with that. I was suddenly feeling overheated in my hoodie while worry about insulting him began to cycle through my mind, of course that was when things started to chill out for me in trouser tent town. I reconsidered the whole masochist angle again just to try and break the silence but shook my head to myself. It wouldn’t matter in a day or two or a week. I’d carry on with my drive and he’d have a story to tell his coworkers tomorrow. I was fine being a laughable story.

Before I could find something casual to say, he sucker punched me with that line of staying after he was done and I briefly wondered if he was trying to throw me a bone because he felt sorry for me. I didn’t think so. The tension between us had been palpable from the start. I nodded at his non-question.- Yeah. I’d like that. Though we both know you already know that I would.

-I laughed low as his eyes did another sweep and the previously cooling jets fired right back up again. Jesus. When did I become a thirteen year old boy seeing his first dirty magazine. I reached up behind my neck as I sat forward in the chair and pulled my hoodie off over my head, draping it on the arm of my chair, leaving me in my well worn white tee that was underneath.

There was no point in trying to hide shit, the elephant in the room had been noticed, spoken about and well acknowledged, not to mention Mad was about to shake hands with the trunk. I blew out a breath, feeling all embarrassment sliding away as easily as I had taken off my hoodie, and grinned at him.- Let’s get to you shoving some needles through my family jewels so we can have that beer you mentioned.

8 notes · View notes