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pepperonibread · 9 months

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Love Song for a Comet - Chapters 1&2

Read on ao3 or below the line break.

Jessie's gaze shifted towards the impressive telescope that dominated the rooftop. He couldn't resist inquiring about its origin. "Kiran make that for you?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

Director Qi considered the question for a moment before responding, "Well, she did. But the town said I have to share with everybody."

A grin tugged at the corner of Jessie's lips. "You don't like sharing?" he prodded.

The director's response was tinged with candid honesty. "Well, not particularly," he admitted, "when I have the choice anyway."

a/n: I wanted to try something different. I also wanted to write about my science boy. I also was too invested in the character of my builders sibling from "Across The Great Divide." (you don't want to read it before reading this. It's over 100 pages of nonsense). This was just some cute dumb thing I wrote when I should really be working on my book series. Oops. So here we are. Guess I technically have a Sandrock Series now. Anyway, enjoy these two freakin' weirdos. As a side note, for the sake of simplicity - if this a post-apocalyptic future taking place far after our own downfall - then the planets and stars and all that nonsense are still the same. Don't hate me. There's two chapters on ao3, but for the sake of simplicy - both are in this post.

⭐🌠✨🌌⭐🌠✨🌌⭐🌠✨🌌⭐🌠✨🌌

Look at the Stars -1-

Jessie was a man of principle, typically unwavering even in the face of nerves (at least, he liked to think so)—an attribute his father had instilled in him from a young age: never reveal fear.

Yet now, as he stood in his sister's bathroom, his reflection stared back at him with anticipation. His fingers ran through his vibrant blue hair, a shade reminiscent of the sky—short and slightly curly. slightly chiseled features formed his face, marred by a slightly askew nose, a souvenir from one of Kiran's teenage outbursts.

Hazel eyes scanned his own reflection, a color he found neither particularly pleasing nor displeasing. Counting the freckles that peppered his complexion, he maintained his composure with dignity. Twenty-seven. Twenty-seven freckles for twenty-seven years. A quiet sense of absurdity settled over him at the thought.

His introspection was interrupted by Kiran's voice, filtering in from the doorway. "When was the last time you even went on a date? Let alone out?"

Turning to face her, Jessie managed a self-conscious grin. "Does that phase still exist for thirty-year-olds?" he quipped, attempting to mask his inner jitters with humor. The truth was, he had spent his time immersed in work with their mom at her chiropractic clinic in Highwind, leaving little space for personal pursuits.

A sigh escaped him, intertwining his amusement with a vestige of unease. “It's just..." He hesitated, the gravity of his self-reflection settling heavily in his chest. His apprehension had nothing to do with shame or secrecy but rather the intricate web of his upbringing and the prism through which he perceived his own identity. Viewing his sexuality as an extension of himself, rather than a limiting label, was a byproduct of his upbringing. In the world he was in, brief dalliances were embraced, but traditional dating bore an alternate significance altogether. Or that’s the way he saw it, anyway.

Kiran's gaze softened, recognizing the conflict in his eyes. "I get it, Jess. You've always navigated differently. Just remember, exploring something new doesn't mean you're changing who you are."

Kiran's understanding gaze offered a rare moment of connection, something Jessie found unexpected, given her typical tenaciousness. Perhaps the arid desert air held some peculiar effect on her—and him, for that matter. Her words resonated with him; she was right. His approach to relationships had never been conventional. He returned a nod to his sister, silently conveying his gratitude for her input.

He considered her words as his reflection stared back at him from the bathroom mirror once more. A surge of appreciation for Kiran's insight washed over him. In truth, he'd never experienced a genuine relationship, having admired others from a distance—more often men than women, though Crystal had been an exception, a façade they'd maintained to defy their parents, most likely. He wasn't entirely sure, nor did he entirely remember. In his world, attraction was a rare occurrence, a realm where people's personalities bore more significance than their appearances.

He studied his features again, his fingers gently tugging at the skin on his cheek, lost in thought. The upcoming event with the stargazing enthusiast—was it even a date? Kiran had seemingly orchestrated the whole encounter with her characteristic ease, inserting herself into a conversation between him and the director. Her meddling had woven the threads of this arrangement with an expert hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It struck him as both bemusing and endearing, how the same girl who had once made his life a vexing torment could now display such perceptiveness.

His gaze remained locked on his reflection, fingers trailing down to his chin.

"By the way," Kiran's nonchalant remark broke the reverie, her words delivering a surprise that made Jessie's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm not going with you."

Her declaration hit him like a curveball, jolting him out of his introspective trance. Yes, Kiran was undoubtedly the same cunning little witch he had known all his life. Turning towards her, his fingers clutched the edges of the sink with a force that betrayed his sudden tension.

"You aren't?" he echoed her statement, his tone tinged with bewilderment. Confusion clouded his features as he tried to comprehend her decision. He had assumed that being friends with the director, she would be a natural companion for the stargazing excursion. The prospect of facing this enigmatic man alone was daunting, but Kiran's intentions now seemed to veer in a different direction.

"No," Kiran's response remained stubbornly flat, her words ringing with a resolute finality that left Jessie grappling with her unexpected decision. That little witch certainly had a knack for upending plans. He felt his mouth open to protest, a futile attempt to overturn her verdict.

"But—" he stammered, his brows furrowing as he tried to articulate his flustered thoughts. Why did he feel so thrown off by the notion of venturing into the starry night alone with the director? "What will we even talk about?"

Observing his reaction with a sly glint in her eye, Kiran retreated into her bedroom, her response almost teasingly casual. "I don't know, the stars? The whole point?"

Jessie's grimace was involuntary, his hand running through his hair in a mixture of anxiety and exasperation. Following Kiran into her room, he found himself grasping for words as he searched for a way to convince her to change her mind. "Are you sure you can't come?" he pleaded, his tone almost desperate. He wasn't entirely sure why he needed his sister as his wingwoman, but the thought of engaging in conversation with the enigmatic director without her presence felt oddly daunting.

Kiran, seemingly impervious to his plea, nodded firmly as she settled herself. "Yep, I'm going to bed as soon as you walk out that door."

"But what do we talk about?" The question slipped out involuntarily - even though he had just asked her the same question, an unfiltered reflection of his genuine concern. He wasn't particularly well-versed in the art of small talk, especially when it came to someone like the director—a man whose intellect seemed to span the cosmos themselves.

"Um, I don't know—the damn sky? Science?" Kiran retorted, her tone exasperated and her words laced with impatience. Jessie sighed inwardly; his sister was not about to provide him with any easy answers. He shot her a mildly reproachful look, his eyebrows knitting in a silent plea for genuine advice.

"What if we run out of things to talk about?" he posed the next question, his concern a raw edge beneath his words. Kiran's arms crossed defensively, and a sly smirk played on her lips, her amusement at his predicament evident. "What if we end up staring at each other awkwardly?"

The amused twinkle in her eyes didn't waver as she offered her retort, her words tinged with a mixture of mockery and familiarity. "I don't see how that will be a problem, with that man." The implication was clear; she seemed to speak from her own experiences with the director, leaving Jessie to wonder about the depth of their interactions. Kiran's advice seemed too casual, too dismissive of the tension he felt bubbling within him.

"Just don't fall asleep while he's talking—Logan did that once," she added with a chuckle. The remainder of her husband's mishap did little to ease his apprehension; if anything, it accentuated his nervousness. "But, I mean—it's Logan." She added.

Jessie released an exaggerated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he paced the room. "Thanks for the pep talk, sis. You've been incredibly helpful." His voice dripped with sarcasm, though he couldn't deny the teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Descending the staircase, Jessie followed in Kiran's wake, a slight furrow between his brows as he surveyed the living room. Logan, lay sprawled on the couch, sound asleep, assumably because it was nearing midnight - his feet comfortably perched on the coffee table—a casual pose that Jessie noted with a quirked eyebrow. He couldn't help but muse over the inconsistency; Kiran had reprimanded him multiple times for the same offense during his visit. Perhaps it was a testament to Logan's ability to skirt the boundaries of familial teasing.

As Kiran reappeared from a brief detour into the kitchen, she extended a thermos toward her brother. "Sand tea," she announced, her voice a blend of nonchalance and warmth as she handed him the beverage. Her grip tightened on his arm as she guided him toward the front door, her determination palpable. "He'll probably be on the roof. Just look for the steps on the side of the research center."

Nodding in acknowledgment, Jessie's gaze flicked from the thermos in his hand to the door they were swiftly approaching. The distinct scent of sand tea wafted from the container, sort of like a comfort in the midst of his thoughts.

Pausing in the doorway, Jessie's gaze shifted back to the living room, his attention drawn to Logan's seemingly carefree sprawl on the couch. He couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow as he motioned toward him. "How come he gets to get away with that?" he inquired of Kiran, his tone a blend of playful annoyance.

Kiran's response came in the form of a huff, her eyes narrowing at the sight of her husband's lounging form. She crossed her arms, a mixture of resignation and mild irritation gracing her features. "Just go, Jessie," she retorted with a nudge, her gesture propelling him gently toward the open expanse of the desert night.

With a wry grin, Jessie offered a mock salute, his teasing defiance mirroring his sister's well-practiced attitude. Stepping further outside, he embraced the night air, a medley of desert scents mingling around him.

In contrast to Kiran, Jessie hadn't spent nearly as much time in the small desert town of Sandrock. The place held fewer charms for him compared to Highwind, which lived up to its name with relentless gusts of wind. Sandrock, on the other hand, lived up to its name in a different way - an arid landscape that mirrored the dry demeanor of many of its inhabitants. Except for one, it seemed.

It wasn't so much a personal preference for the desert that had kept him away but rather the lack of connections he'd managed to forge in this town. He could count the number of visits on one hand: the first to see Kiran after her move, the second to witness her wedding (though, regrettably, it had poured that day), and now, this third visit. According to their mother, it was his responsibility to check on Kiran from time to time, even if she had a towering cowboy of a husband to protect her.

As Jessie glanced upward at the unclouded night sky, he concluded that it would indeed be an excellent evening for stargazing. The desert, with its vast, open expanse, held a particular allure on nights like these, where the stars sparkled like precious yellow gems, and the mysteries of the cosmos beckoned to be explored.

He proceeded along the path leading to the research center, his steps echoing softly in the stillness of the desert night. It struck him as amusing and, in some ways, typical that this town's research center was a one-person show. Highwind, in stark contrast, boasted a team of three dedicated researchers, and he recalled a more extensive research community in Lucien during his brief stint of attempting to join The Flying Pigs - an endeavor that had ended in a resounding failure, much to his father's disappointment.

The shadow of his father's expectations loomed heavily in his memories, and Jessie couldn't help but wonder what made “Highwind's Finest Harold" so deserving of that title. As he walked, he found himself lost in contemplation, questioning the standards by which his father had measured him and ultimately found him wanting.

Upon reaching the research center, Jessie's attention was drawn to the steps on the building's side. He hesitated for a moment, gripping the railing longer than necessary. His knuckles whitened as he grappled with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, like an unseen force pulling him back while another urged him forward.

"Stop that," he muttered to himself, a quiet admonition against his own internal struggle.

Jessie ascended the steps at a deliberate pace, much like the deliberate steps he took in embracing this outing. Kiran's intuition had proven accurate once more; the director awaited him on the roof, stationed on the platform just beyond the top of the stairs. The starlit sky stretched above, and beside the director stood an imposing telescope, a testament to Kiran's dedication and craft.

His sudden appearance did little to startle the director, who turned to regard him with a mild quizzical expression. As Jessie extended the thermos towards him, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of uncertainty about his true purpose here. Kiran hadn't explicitly instructed him to deliver the thermos, but he trusted his sister's judgment.

"Kiran told me to give you this," Jessie explained, his voice betraying a faint nervousness. He offered the thermos as a gesture of goodwill. "She's going to bed."

The director accepted the thermos without much fuss. "Oh," he replied, a hint of indifference coloring his tone. "No matter."

As the silence lingered between them, an unexpected sense of comfort began to weave its way into the atmosphere. The absence of scripted conversation was oddly reassuring as if they both found solace in this mutual uncertainty.

Jessie's gaze shifted towards the impressive telescope that dominated the rooftop. "Kiran make that for you?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

Director Qi seemed to consider the question for a moment before responding, "Well, she did. But the town said I have to share with everybody."

A grin tugged at the corner of Jessie's lips. "You don't like sharing?" he prodded.

The director's response was tinged with candid honesty. "Well, not particularly," he admitted, "when I have the choice anyway."

As Jessie contemplated their interaction, he realized he had an opportunity to navigate this encounter further. He glanced down at the thermos nestled in Director Qi's hands and seized the moment. "So if I asked you if you'd share that tea with me, what would you say?" It felt like a trivial question.

Director Qi's contemplative expression as he held the thermos was intriguing, and Jessie couldn't help but wonder what thoughts were running through the man's mind. There was a subtle shift in the director's demeanor, a hint of something that might have been an embarrassment if Jessie had to guess.

Then, Director Qi attempted to open the thermos but struggled with it, prompting Jessie to step forward. "I'll do it. Hand it over," he offered, reaching out for the thermos. Their fingers brushed briefly in the exchange, a fleeting touch that sent a subtle shiver down Jessie's spine. He deftly removed the top of the thermos; poured the tea into the cup with practiced ease, and then handed it over to the director.

A soft chuckle escaped Jessie's lips as he made a remark. "I hope Kiran didn't screw it up," he teased.

Director Qi took a sip from the thermos lid, and Jessie observed his reaction intently. "She puts milk in it," the director mentioned.

Jessie looked down at the open thermos in his hands, its contents a reminder of his sister's preference. It wasn't his personal favorite, but he could understand why both the director and Kiran enjoyed it. He brought the cup to his lips and took a sip, the flavor a familiar blend that he hadn't savored in a while.

"Usually, I'm more of a coffee person," he admitted, surprising himself by sharing.

The response was a raised eyebrow from the director, who then added, "You have to watch caffeine, you know. I know from experience."

Jessie chuckled at the comment. "Bet you see a lot of late nights, huh?" he asked, trying to ease the building tension with a bit of humor.

"As a matter of fact," the director replied, his tone still holding a hint of formality. "I do."

Why was this encounter so oddly awkward yet not? Jessie couldn't help but wonder if the director found him cute or if he was overthinking things. Well, the director was certainly cute in a quirky, nerdy way, Jessie decided. But did the director think the same about him?

Jessie shifted his gaze to the night sky, the stars twinkling overhead. "So..." he pondered, attempting to steer the conversation back to more comfortable territory. "What's up there tonight?" he asked.

"Saturn, most likely," the director responded, his expertise shining through. "You might be able to see a satellite or two if you sit out here long enough."

Jessie took a step toward the telescope, drawn to the idea of stargazing with this alluring man. "Wanna show me?" he asked, hoping to share this experience and perhaps break through the lingering awkwardness.

The director, seemingly more comfortable discussing the night sky and telescopes, nodded in agreement. "Of course," he replied, his eyes briefly meeting Jessie's with a hint of enthusiasm.

As Jessie approached the telescope, the director stepped aside, allowing him access to the eyepiece. "Now, this telescope isn't your typical one," he explained, his voice taking on a gentle, informative tone. "It's been modified to provide clearer views of celestial objects, especially when we're dealing with light pollution."

Jessie, now genuinely intrigued, leaned into peer through the eyepiece. His breath caught as he saw the magnified image of Saturn, its distinct rings clearly visible against the inky blackness of space. "Wow," he breathed, his awe evident.

The director, standing nearby, shared in Jessie's excitement. "Saturn is quite the sight, isn't it? And if you look closely, you might even see one of its moons," he added.

Jessie, determined to spot one of Saturn's moons, kept his eye fixed on the telescope. However, despite his efforts, he couldn't make out any of the planet's moons. "I don't see any," he admitted.

The director, who seemed equally surprised by the moon's elusiveness, stepped closer. "Let me see," he said, his tone a mix of curiosity and determination. In a moment that seemed to catch them both off guard, the director's fingers lightly brushed against Jessie's shoulder as he moved to take a look through the eyepiece himself.

As the director leaned in to peer through the telescope, Jessie couldn't help but notice the proximity between them. His heart raced slightly, and he wondered if the director felt the same strange tension that seemed to have settled between them.

The director adjusted the telescope with expert precision, making subtle movements to align it properly. After a few moments, he spoke, his voice tinged with a hint of excitement.

"There they are. Saturn's moons."

Jessie leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of what the director was seeing. He could feel the warmth radiating from the director's body, and it sent a shiver down his spine - how many shivers had it been now? He had lost track. "Wow," was all he managed to say, his attention momentarily torn between the celestial wonders and the man beside him.

Jessie stood up a bit straighter. "What else is up there?" he asked, his eyes scanning the starlit canvas above.

The director's lips twitched, hinting at a smile. "Are you looking for extraterrestrials like your sister?" he asked, his tone light.

Jessie chuckled, appreciating the humor. "No," he replied, "I'm actually genuinely interested." He wondered if his choice of words would convey the deeper curiosity that had sparked within him, not just about celestial bodies.

The director seemed to sense the sincerity behind Jessie's words as they both gazed up at the night sky. The silence between them was comfortable, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of the desert breeze.

"Well," the director finally spoke, his tone a touch more serious, "there's so much up there. Stars that have burned for billions of years, galaxies beyond our reach, and mysteries we've yet to unravel - even after all this time."

Jessie's eyes remained fixed on the stars, but he couldn't help stealing a glance at the director out of the corner of his eye. "It's amazing how vast the universe is," he said softly, more to himself than to the man beside him.

The director nodded, his gaze never leaving the sky. "Indeed, it is. And it's a privilege to be able to study it, even if just a small part of it."

"Look." The director's voice was tinged with excitement, and he reached out to touch Jessie's arm, a fleeting contact - was it intentional? The dark-haired man pointed up at the sky.

"What am I looking at?" Jessie followed the director's finger, squinting at the night sky. "A UFO?"

The director chuckled softly. "No, not a UFO. An old-world satellite."

Jessie focused on the distant object, a blinking light that traversed the sky. It felt surreal, like a connection to the past in the midst of the vast night. "That's incredible," he murmured, a sense of wonder in his voice. “Can you say some sciencey stuff about it?”

What kind of question is that, Jess.

The director turned his gaze from the satellite to Jessie, a playful glint in his eye. "Sure, I can give you some 'sciencey' stuff. That satellite up there is likely one of the ancient relics of the old world, placed in orbit to help with communication or navigation."

Jessie nodded, genuinely intrigued. "And it's still up there after all these years?"

"Indeed," the director continued, his passion for the subject evident. "Satellites like this were designed to withstand the harshness of space, and many of them continue to orbit the Earth long after their intended missions ended."

“How do they stay in orbit?” Jessie asked, even though his question had already been answered prior.

The director's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he indulged Jessie's curiosity once more. "Well, you see," he began, his accent lending a charming cadence to his words, "it's all about speed and balance. These satellites are moving at just the right velocity so that their forward motion is balanced by the pull of Earth's gravity. It's like a never-ending dance in the sky."

Jessie nodded, listening intently, although he had heard similar explanations before. But there was something different about the way the director conveyed it, something captivating beyond just the scientific facts. It was, indeed, the accent and the passion behind it that held Jessie's attention.

"Fascinating," Jessie said, his eyes dancing between the stars and the man in front of him. Space was captivating, but the connection he was forming with the director was equally as compelling.

"Yes," the director replied, though his shifting demeanor hinted at a mixture of fascination and nervousness under Jessie's gaze. It was as if he were caught between the wonder of the night sky and the unexpected presence of Jessie.

"You must know about ancient relics; your sister mentioned you studied anthropology in Atara?"

Jessie's mind momentarily wandered, but he quickly brought himself back. "Yeah, I did," he replied, brushing off the momentary lapse in memory.

The director leaned in slightly. "And why aren't you a researcher?"

Jessie pondered the question, considering his path. "Didn't work out that way," he admitted. "Tried my luck with The Flying Pigs a few years back. Didn't work out so much. Kiran suggested I take the teaching job here when they finish building the school."

A hearty laugh erupted from the director, "That would save me from being thrown into that position," he quipped.

The night air was cool, and as Jessie's eyes remained fixed on the director, he couldn't help but notice the man's disheveled appearance, particularly his askew tie. It was a small detail, but it fascinated him.

"You know," Jessie began, his gaze drifting toward the errant tie, "your tie is a bit... off."

The director glanced down at the tie as if noticing it for the first time. He chuckled softly. "Oh, that," he said dismissively. "I never really cared much for ties. I suppose it's not the best way to present myself."

"Why do you wear it if you don't like it?"

A sheepish smile played on the director's lips as he confessed, "Honestly, I tied it once, years ago, and I've forgotten how to do it properly since. So I just throw it on and hope for the best."

Jessie couldn't help but laugh. It was such an endearing admission. "Well, at least you're honest about it."

He took a step closer to the director. He hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "You know, if you ever wanted a refresher on how to tie a tie, I could... um, help you out. If you'd like."

The director regarded Jessie with a mix of surprise and curiosity. It was a delicate offer, and Jessie didn't want to overstep any boundaries. But there was something about the moment that seemed to make the director consider it.

"Well," the director began slowly, "I suppose I could use a bit of guidance. But only if you're sure you don't mind."

Jessie nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, I don't mind at all. It's a small thing, really."

As Jessie approached even closer, their proximity becoming a bit more intimate, the director willingly handed over the tie with practiced efficiency. Jessie took the tie in his hand to place it around his own neck, feeling the smoothness of the fabric, and he couldn't help but notice more of the director's disheveled appearance. The teal of a T-shirt peeked out from the slightly unbuttoned buttons of his shirt, an outfit that contrasted with Jessie's earlier mental image of a meticulous researcher.

With a friendly grin, he offered some fashion advice. "You'll want to button that up all the way," he suggested with a hint of playfulness in his tone that he wasn't sure where exactly it was coming from.

"Alright, so you start with the wide end on your right, and the narrow end on your left. The tip of the narrow end should sit a bit above your belt."

The director watched attentively as Jessie continued. "Cross the wide end over the narrow end, right at the center here. Then, take the wide end behind the narrow end, wrapping it around from right to left."

Jessie's hands moved fluidly as he demonstrated, the tie taking shape. "Now, you bring the wide end up and over the knot, passing it from the front to the back."

He paused briefly to ensure the director was following along before adding, "Lastly, tuck the wide end down through the loop - give it a gentle pull to tighten it."

Jessie completed the tie with a confident smile. "There you have it, a perfectly tied tie. You'll get the hang of it with some practice."

The tie was draped over the director's head, and Jessie hesitated for a moment, unsure if he was crossing any boundaries. He decided to ask for reassurance. "Is this alright?"

Director Qi gave a small nod, allowing Jessie to place the tie around his neck. Jessie's fingers fumbled slightly as he adjusted the tie beneath the director's collar, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"You're shaking," the director observed.

Caught off guard, Jessie withdrew his hands. "I'm sorry," he stammered, his nerves getting the best of him. "I don't know what I'm doing here. This was all Kiran's idea, you know."

The director attempted to reassure him, but Jessie cut him off, unable to bear the uncertainty. "That's okay," he said, offering a shaky smile. "Sorry, I just... I don't know."

The director's response was unexpected, admitting his own uncertainty. "I don't know what I'm doing either, Jessie."

"But you're supposed to know everything," Jessie blurted out, his surprise evident in his tone. "That's kind of your whole job."

The director raised a hand to continue adjusting his tie, and Jessie couldn't help but notice that it remained slightly off-center. "It is my job," he agreed, his gaze distant for a moment. "But the complexities of human emotions... and of human attraction is something I still don't understand."

Jessie's thoughts raced as he tried to process this revelation. "Wait," he faltered, stumbling over his words. "You think I'm attractive?"

The director, seemingly nervous, shifted his gaze back to the stars above. "Well, you see, attraction is a complex interplay of various factors," he began, his words coming out in a somewhat hurried and nervous manner. "It's not just about physical appearance; it involves psychological, cultural, and even biological elements. I mean, there's the whole concept of pheromones, which some believe play a role in attraction, although the scientific evidence is still inconclusive..."

As he continued to ramble about the science of attraction, Jessie couldn't help but find it endearing. Here was a man, brilliant in his field, discussing matters of the heart with a touch of uncertainty. It was a side of the director that Jessie hadn't expected to see, and he was growing more intrigued by the minute.

Jessie listened intently, but after a while, he couldn't help but interject. "That's all fascinating, Director Qi, but what does that have to do with me?" he asked with a bemused smile. "I mean, it doesn't really answer my question."

The director blinked and paused, his scientific enthusiasm dampened by Jessie's observation. He shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "I suppose I got carried away," he admitted. "What I meant to say is that attraction is a complex and multifaceted phenomenon, and it's not solely about physical appearance. It's about connection and shared interests, and sometimes, it's just a feeling you... can't quite explain." He finally met Jessie's gaze with a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

Jessie chuckled softly. "I appreciate the scientific explanation, but that still doesn't answer my question."

The director's cheeks flushed a bit, and he stammered, "Well, I, uh... I suppose what I meant to say is that... I find our conversation quite enjoyable and intriguing."

Jessie couldn't help but smile at the director's flustered response. "I see," he said. "Well, I find it enjoyable too."

He couldn't resist pushing a bit further. He leaned in slightly and asked with a playful grin, "But that still doesn't answer the question of if you think I'm attractive or not."

The director's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, I... I think you're a very interesting and intelligent person," he replied, avoiding a direct answer.

Jessie laughed, enjoying the flustered response. "You're quite diplomatic, Director Qi," he teased. "But that's okay. I think you're interesting too."

The director's voice dropped slightly. "But..." He hesitated for a moment, still appearing somewhat flustered. "If you were to look at attraction in a conventional sense - and I'm not one for conventional thinking - I suppose one might consider you... attractive. Conventionally, of course."

Jessie chuckled, charmed by the director's cautious response. "Well, thank you for the conventionally kind words," he replied with a sly grin. "And for letting me help with your tie."

The director, his gaze locked with Jessie's, maintained a thoughtful expression. "Does that answer your question?" he asked, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I've never been one to approach things in a traditional sense, as I'm sure you've gathered."

Jessie nodded in understanding. His curiosity, however, wasn't quite satisfied, and he felt a flush of nerves before he let another question slip from his lips. "Would you say that kissing is too conventional, Director?"

The director's smile widened slightly, "Well, Jessie," he began, "conventions are relative, aren't they? In some contexts, kissing might be the epitome of tradition, while in others, it could be a... venture into uncharted territory."

"I suppose you're right," Jessie conceded. "Conventions can be overrated."

Jessie, with a newfound boldness, took a step closer, his heart pounding. "So," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "can I kiss you or what?" He wanted to be sure, to respect boundaries, but the magnetic pull between them was undeniable.

The director, never one to shy away from honesty, as Jessie had gathered, nodded. "You can," he stated simply, his eyes fixed on Jessie's. A hint of anticipation danced in his gaze, matching the fluttering excitement in Jessie's chest.

Closing the remaining distance, Jessie reached out, his fingers finding purchase on the director's shoulder. Their lips met in a slow, gentle kiss, a fusion of curiosity and attraction, a silent agreement to explore the uncharted territory they had discussed earlier.

As their lips parted, leaving a lingering connection between them, Jessie cleared his throat, his cheeks tinted with a soft blush. The intensity of the moment had stolen his words, and he struggled to find something that could adequately express his feelings.

"Uh, well," he began, his voice a touch unsteady, "thanks for that." He managed a shy smile, hoping it conveyed his gratitude for the shared moment and the newfound connection that had sparked between them.

The director, too, had a hint of color on his cheeks as he nodded in response. He adjusted his tie once more.

"You're welcome," he replied softly, his gaze still locked onto Jessie's. There was a peculiar mixture of emotions in his eyes—uncertainty, curiosity, and perhaps a touch of relief.

Jessie cleared his throat again, breaking the momentary silence. "Well, I should probably get going," he said, shifting awkwardly on his feet. "But maybe we can...do this again sometime?"

The director nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Sure" he admitted, his voice carrying a hint of genuine warmth.

With a final, almost hesitant glance, Jessie turned to leave the rooftop. As he made his way toward the steps, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief mixed with lingering excitement. However, the director's voice calling his name made him pause. He turned around to find that the director had taken a step closer, almost as if he was considering descending the steps as well.

"Have you considered it?" the director asked, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "Teaching in Sandrock, I mean."

Jessie looked up at the night sky for a moment, the question catching him off guard. He hadn't really thought about it seriously before. Teaching wasn't something that had ever been on his radar, and he wasn't particularly fond of children. But then again, his life had been full of unexpected twists lately, as this night has surely proven.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. He took the first step downward, aware that the director was following him. "Do you think I should?"

The director fell into step beside him as they descended the steps. "Sharing knowledge can be rewarding, Jessie," he mused, "but only if the other person listens, that is."

Jessie couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. "Well," he remarked with a knowing grin, "I can see why you wouldn't want to do it. Children aren't always the best listeners, that's for sure."

The director smiled in agreement, the corners of his lips quirking slightly. "You have a point there. Teaching requires patience and a certain level of dedication that I've often found challenging to muster."

As they reached the landing, Jessie turned abruptly, muttering an apology as he nearly collided with the director. "I've never taught before," he confessed, feeling a mix of hesitation and curiosity.

The director adjusted his glasses with a practiced motion and then delivered his next statement with a matter-of-factness. "There are only three children in Sandrock," he revealed, his tone conveying both the challenge and uniqueness of such a situation.

Jessie blinked, processing the information. "Three kids, huh?" he muttered to himself, momentarily envisioning a classroom with just a handful of young minds to nurture. It was certainly a far cry from the bustling schools he had seen in larger cities.

The director joined Jessie at the railing, following his gaze upward. "You see," he began, his voice infused with that familiar passion for science, "teaching isn't just about the subjects you convey; it's about igniting curiosity. It's about helping them look up at the night sky and wonder about the countless stars and mysteries it holds. And hoping they pay attention to you, of course."

Jessie turned his attention back to the director, captivated by his words. "I suppose you're right. I've always been fascinated by the night sky. It's like an endless sea of questions, waiting for someone to dive in."

"Exactly," the director agreed. "And perhaps, in that pursuit of answers, you'll find teaching to be a rewarding experience."

As the director led the way down the steps, Jessie followed their conversation leaving a pleasant resonance in his mind. The night air held a gentle chill as they reached the ground, and Jessie began to sense that their meeting was drawing to a close.

"Maybe...I really should get going now, actually," Jessie admitted, though part of him secretly hoped their talk could continue indefinitely.

The director slipped his hands into his pants pockets, casting a nod toward the research center's door. "And I should...go back inside and get back to work." He took a small sidestep. "Give my regards to Kiran."

Jessie nodded, his smile still lingering. "I will. I'll go wake her up right now." He joked.

A soft chuckle escaped the director as he reached for the doorknob. "Well, don't do that," he said with a hint of amusement. "I'll see you later?"

Again, Jessie nodded, reluctantly beginning to back away. "Yeah. Night."

"Night." With those parting words, the director gently closed the door behind him, leaving Jessie standing in the cool desert night.

Jessie released a sigh, one that seemed to have been bottled up throughout the entire evening. His fingers ran through his tousled hair, almost as if he hoped the act would ground him in the present moment. A hand traversed his weary face, coming to a stop at his lips as if he could still feel the lingering warmth from their shared moment.

With another step backward, he turned to embark on his journey back to Kiran's home. The path was familiar, and the stars above offered their gentle guidance. His footsteps were deliberate but measured, each one carrying him closer to the haven of Kiran's sanctuary.

Upon entering her home, he moved like a shadow, the darkness his comforting shroud. He found solace on the vacant couch, the same one he had teased Logan about earlier.

There, he sat, too wired to surrender to sleep. The hours passed in quiet contemplation, the room shrouded in darkness, save for the pale glow of starlight seeping through the curtains.

As the night melded into dawn, the first light of day crept in, casting intricate patterns on the wallpaper. He absorbed the subtle symphony of household sounds, the stirrings of those around him as they awoke to greet the day. And there, amidst the whispered awakening of the home, Jessie sat, an unspoken resolve taking root.

It wasn't until Kiran's hand gently alighted upon his shoulder, accompanied by the soft utterance of his name, that he was stirred from his contemplative trance. He gazed into her eyes, an unshakable conviction rising within him as he declared, "I'll do it. I'll move to Sandrock."

Look at the stars Look how they shine for you And everything you do Yeah, they were all yellow ______

The Scientist -2-

Director Qi stirred from his slumber, the muted glow of morning light filtering through the curtains as he reached for his glasses, which rested on the stand beside the sofa. He eased himself upright, careful not to disturb the book that had slipped from his grasp in the night, its pages now a tumble of knowledge.

His gaze swept the room, settling on the kettle positioned at the center of his spartan living space. The prospect of a cup of tea was his first order of business each morning, a ritual that helped prepare his mind for the day's scientific inquiries.

As the kettle flickered to life with a soft hum, he couldn't help but recollect the observations he had made of Jessie, Kiran's brother. Late twenties, around 5'7", his frame carried an evident athleticism, the product of past training, likely from his involvement with The Flying Pigs. The young man's features bore a unique character, with twenty-seven freckles tracing his cheeks, and a slightly asymmetrical nose, the result of an injury that appeared to have healed without proper medical intervention.

The director poured water into the kettle, listening to its rising hum. His thoughts veered toward Jessie's visit - exactly four days ago, and their conversation under the starlit desert sky. It had been a night filled with scientific inquiry, and for a moment, he allowed himself a slight smile, appreciating the intellectual exchange.

Cup of tea in hand, the director navigated his morning routine with a somewhat haphazard elegance. The white shirt, which he pushed into his pants, bore the signs of his hurried dressing, a testament to his analytical mind racing with questions and musings from the encounter with Jessie. It had been a night of unexpected intellectual stimulation.

The laboratory on the floor below awaited him, its array of scientific wonders and puzzles beckoning him to delve into the complexities of the universe that he lived in. With the teacup now placed securely on the desk, he turned his thoughts to the matter that had dominated his reflections - that brief, unexpected kiss shared with Jessie.

Kissing, a seemingly mundane act had introduced a level of uncertainty and curiosity into his meticulously ordered life that he couldn't quite comprehend.

As he settled into the chair before the computer, he attempted to dissect the experience through a scientific lens. What was attraction, after all? A chemical response? A neurological cascade? He pondered, contemplating the various theories and research findings on human attraction.

As he powered up the computer with a calculated flick of his finger, the director couldn't shake the sense that he had been pursuing the wrong scientific inquiry. Jessie, who had unintentionally monopolized his thoughts like a complex equation begging to be unraveled, needed a more comprehensive examination.

Attraction and kissing, he mused, might not be the key subjects here. It was a puzzle of a different sort, one that eluded him. The scientist within him yearned to explore the uncharted territory of his own emotions. He had never experienced this particular sensation before, nor had he the vocabulary to label it, for a true scientist transcended mere labels - as silly as that sounded. A lot of things in science had labels.

Perhaps it wasn't an attraction that had drawn him to Jessie. Rather, it was something deeper, something beyond the realms of conventional understanding.

As the director delved into his work, his days stretched into nights and back into days, much like the unbroken cycles he had maintained since taking the role as Sandrock's solitary researcher. Time was a precious resource, and he couldn't afford to squander it, not even when the thought of Jessie's presence made it increasingly challenging to adhere to the routines of his well-ordered life.

What was it about Jessie that fascinated him? This question lingered like a persistent hypothesis, demanding investigation at the source. Unfortunately, Jessie's mother resided outside Sandrock, beyond his research's reach. Kiran, on the other hand, was within arm's reach, a potential source of information and enlightenment beyond the monotonous conversations of most of the town's residents.

When Kiran finally graced him with her presence, he seized the opportunity without hesitation, her very entrance an invitation to unravel Jessie.

"Tell me about your brother," he asserted, the words more a command than a mere question.

She set a stack of data disks on the director's desk. Her usual confident demeanor seemed a tad unsettled, an observation he made from the way her eyes wandered toward the ceiling, lost in contemplation.

Her response to his inquiry about her brother left much to be desired. "Uh..." she began, her words trailing off momentarily as if she were searching for the right way to articulate her thoughts. "He's... well, Jessie."

Director Qi couldn't help but huff in frustration, making his disappointment clear. "I want a more detailed explanation, Kiran," he pressed. While he considered Kiran a friend in this desolate research center, one of the few he had, he also expected a deeper level of insight from her than the mundane responses he received from the town's residents.

Kiran shifted as if acutely aware of the director's demand for a more comprehensive description.

"He's... well, Jessie," she began again, but this time she delved a bit deeper. "Stubborn, for one. Always has been. It's not that he's intentionally difficult, but once he sets his mind on something, he doesn't budge. Our father used to say that stubbornness was a quality that would either make or break him."

Director Qi nodded, intrigued by the insight. "Go on," he urged.

She shifted slightly, again - a hint of a wistful smile playing on her lips as she continued. "He's incredibly intelligent, more than he gives himself credit for. Studied anthropology in Atara, but never pursued a career in it. Instead, he helps Mom at her chiropractic clinic in Highwind. He's always been a bit... unconventional, I guess. Not one for following the norm. And he's fiercely protective, especially when it comes to family."

As Kiran spoke, Director Qi couldn't help but picture Jessie in his mind, adding layers of complexity to the somewhat enigmatic persona he had encountered. His stubbornness, intelligence, and unconventional nature painted a clearer portrait of her brother. Even if some of it was already information he knew about him prior, based on conversations he had with Kiran in the past. But the fact she brought these things up again - they must be important.

"Interesting," he mused, mind already racing with thoughts about this new perspective on Jessie. "Thank you, Kiran. Your insights are invaluable, as always."

Kiran paused, seeming to consider her next words. "He took not getting into the Flying Pigs pretty hard," she added, a hint of sympathy in her voice. "It was one of those rare occasions where I saw him genuinely disappointed. But he's resilient. He doesn't give up easily, no matter how stubborn he can be."

Director Qi nodded, now forming a more nuanced understanding of Jessie. "Resilience in the face of adversity," he mused. "That's a commendable trait."

Kiran leaned forward slightly, her eyes meeting the director's. "You know, you might want to ask him these questions yourself, get to know him better. I think you two could have some interesting conversations."

The director gave her a thoughtful look, considering her suggestion. "Perhaps I will," he replied

Kiran stood, her gaze steady as she continued. "And you'll get the chance too," she added. "He's coming back in a few weeks, once Mi-an and I finish the school."

"Teaching in Sandrock?" The director mused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "That seems like a significant change from what he's used to."

Kiran chuckled, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Yes, it is. But Jessie has always been open to new experiences, unlike someone I know." Her playful tone hinted at a deeper camaraderie between her and the director.

"What new experiences are you referring to?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Her response was candid, and she motioned to the bustling lab around them. "Maybe taking a break from this?" she suggested with a gesture encompassing the humming machines and scientific instruments. "Having fun?"

The director couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the notion. Fun was a foreign concept to him when it came to his work. It was always about precision, data, and the pursuit of knowledge. Kiran, on the other hand, had a knack for injecting life into the lab - in her own, annoying way.

"Fun?" he repeated as if testing the word on his tongue.

"But what I do is fun," the director asserted, feeling a touch of defensiveness in his words as he pondered the idea. This was his world, and it had always provided him with a unique sense of satisfaction and wonder. Would Jessie understand this perspective?

Kiran, ever the free spirit, simply shrugged in response. It was clear that their definitions of enjoyment diverged significantly. She turned to leave, her steps taking her towards the laboratory's exit, but before disappearing, she cast a parting glance over her shoulder.

"He'll be back in two weeks," she declared with a knowing smile as if she had some secret that could bridge the gap between their worlds.

The director watched her go, her words echoing in his thoughts. Two weeks.

Two weeks translated into an array of numerical expressions: fourteen days, three hundred and thirty-six hours, 20,160 minutes, and when examined at the most granular level, a staggering 1.21 million seconds. The director's mind couldn't help but break down time into these mathematical abstractions.

Day after day, he remained engrossed in his research, the passage of time appearing to stretch into an infinite continuum. Yet, as the days slipped by, he became increasingly aware of the impending moment that would mark Jessie's return, an event he had anticipated with both curiosity and a hint of unease.

Then, it came—the day he had mentally circled on his internal calendar. On this particular day, the director found himself emerging from the research center, a notebook clutched in his hand, his destination clear—the porch of the Blue Moon. He knew exactly which chair awaited him there as if it had been a part of his calculations all along.

Seated on the porch of the Blue Moon, the director meticulously transcribed his notes into the open notebook, his pencil gliding across the pages with the precision of a well-oiled machine. A cup of sand tea, void of any milk, rested on the nearby table, untouched as always. Milk was a variable he never introduced.

As he worked, the warmth of the late morning sun enveloped him, casting a gentle, almost introspective light on his task. Time seemed elusive at this moment, its flow disrupted by the ceaseless hum of Sandrock.

A sudden realization swept over him like a gust of desert wind. Was he actively waiting for Jessie? That thought felt peculiar, as if he doubted Jessie's arrival, even though he had clear information about it. He paused to consider if he was early or late, his eyes scanning the street leading to the train station for any signs of Jessie's imminent return.

Intermittently, his gaze lifted from the notebook, drifting toward the train station again, bearing a subtle longing he struggled to decipher within himself.

The director continued to sit, lost in the flow of time until a sense of completeness washed over him. With a practiced motion, he closed his notebook, bringing his thoughts to a halt. He stood, casting one last contemplative look towards the train station. Doubts about Jessie's arrival crept into his mind; Kiran was known to be forgetful, after all. Or maybe Jessie had simply changed his mind.

Kissing and feelings, he mused, might actually be frivolous things, best left unexplored.

Relationships and the true intentions of people were complex puzzles that eluded him. Perhaps he hadn't fully comprehended Jessie's intentions. The thought clung to him as he turned toward the research center, reminding him of the mountain of work that lay ahead.

As he neared the research center's door, a soft, lingering voice called out, drifting through the air like an unforeseen melody. It was gentle as if it had always belonged in the desert breeze, soothing as the warmth of hot chocolate sliding down one's throat. There was no need for a second guess; he knew who it was. He turned on his heel.

In the shadow cast by the building they stood beside, Jessie emerged, his figure poised like a question yet to be answered.

Jessie didn't arrive alone. Tethered to him by a leash was an elderly retriever, its coat bearing the same sandy hue as the desert. As they stood there, an awkward silence hung in the air, with both Jessie and Director Qi seemingly unsure of what to say or do next.

Jessie broke the silence, gesturing toward the dog with an introduction that made it sound like a human companion rather than a canine one. "This is Rigby," he stated with a hint of pride, his tone carrying a note of warmth. Then, a playful chuckle escaped his lips. "We're kind of an item."

The director observed the dog, his gaze lingering for a moment on the aged yet loyal canine before returning to Jessie. The smile on Jessie's face was captivating, dimples forming effortlessly as he spoke. It seemed almost natural for him to have dimples, fitting perfectly into his charismatic persona.

As Jessie took a step closer, Rigby dutifully moved alongside him. The director couldn't help but wonder about the depth of humans' connections with their animal companions. Did they seek solace and companionship in animals in the same way they did with other people? It was a concept he wasn't entirely sure about, having only ever shared his life with a goldfish.

"He's old," Director Qi remarked, his voice tinged with a slight hint of genuine affection as he addressed the dog. Rigby, seemingly intrigued, had decided to investigate the notebook at the director's side. With a slight sigh, and perhaps more for Jessie's sake than his own, the director shifted the notebook to his other hand so that he could reach out and gently pat the aging retriever on the head. The dog didn't seem to mind the attention, but then again, most of the dogs he'd encountered were quite amiable.

Jessie chuckled, a fondness evident in his eyes as he spoke. "Well, we've had him for years," he explained, a hint of nostalgia coloring his words. "Seemed only fair I brought him along."

He found himself momentarily lost in the depths of Jessie's hazel eyes, their warm and earthy tones like swirling grains of sand.

Qi took a step back toward the research center's door, caught in a brief moment of uncertainty about what to do next.

"Would you... like to come in?" he finally managed to ask, his gaze shifting briefly to Rigby as if the dog could somehow offer an alternative.

"Sure," Jessie replied, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Only if Rigby can come in too, of course."

Qi's attention turned once more to Rigby, who was ever curious and exploring the world with his nose. As he opened the door, he nodded in agreement. "Of course," he affirmed, contemplating that Rigby may be the first dog to ever enter the research center, and he wasn't entirely sure what to make of that unusual occurrence.

As they both entered the research center in close proximity, the subtle electricity of their shared space hung in the air, yet it wasn't uncomfortable. Jessie knelt down to remove Rigby's leash, the aged dog beginning to explore the unfamiliar surroundings with curious sniffs—an unwitting metaphor, Qi mused, that he would likely examine it later.

Just as Qi turned to make his way into the laboratory, an unexpected touch sent a jolt through him. He felt Jessie's warm hand gently land on his shoulder, and before he could fully comprehend the situation as he turned back around, Jessie inched closer, enveloping him in an embrace. It caught him off guard, though not entirely so. He'd experienced hugs before – from his mother and father at one point, and Kiran on rare occasions. But this was different, and the scientist within him couldn't help but analyze the sensation as he briefly considered the biology of human touch.

Still, he found himself momentarily frozen in the embrace. Jessie wasn't much taller than he was, and Qi's head nestled comfortably onto Jessie's shoulder, creating an oddly comforting connection that transcended the boundaries of mere social gestures.

As they remained intertwined in the unexpected embrace, Jessie broke the silence with a question, his voice warm and reassuring. "Is this alright?" he asked, his embrace unwavering.

The question hung in the air, prompting the director to contemplate momentarily the intricate nature of this specific human interaction.

The science behind a hug wasn't lost on him; they released endorphins, akin to the sensations one might feel with alcohol or drugs. Oxytocin, a hormone crucial for social bonding, worked its magic, slowing heart rates and reducing stress and anxiety. The neuroscience of the moment was fascinating, but more importantly -

The experience didn't feel wrong.

Qi, who had initially been immobilized by overanalysis, gradually returned to the embrace. His hands found their place on Jessie's back, and he replied in a tone that mirrored his logical disposition, "Yes, this is fine."

In that moment, it truly was.

Men love to wonder, and that is the seed of science. - Ralph Waldo Emerson ______

Notes:

If you haven't figured it out by now, I listened to Coldplay while writing this. I hope you enjoyed it! I don't have any more of this right now, but if this is something people want me to expand on, I wouldn't mind it.

#mtas #mtas qi #mtas qi fanic #mtas m/m

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ssahotstuff · 2 years

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get to know my blog <3

Updated 12/25/22

hiiii! i want to remain nameless for now but i’ll totally do a reveal at some point, but for now, here are some things to know about me!

i’m 28 and i use she/her pronouns. this is a safe space for everyone 18+, so MINORS DNI!!!! however my blog may be triggering to some, so i ask that you follow/engage with me at your own discretion <3 any users under 18 will be blocked as well as any users without their age in their bio <3

i write Criminal Minds fanfiction, specifically SSA Aaron Hotchner, obviously :) below the cut you’ll find my works and their taglist! send me an ask to be added to my tag list for Home//Aaron Hotchner, or just send me an ask because you need to, i dont mind.

SIDE NOTE: the continuation of my master list is at the very bottom of this page! I ran out of room.

taglist for Home, which can be found here. i will update the list as i need to! thank you all so much for following and supporting me & maybe we can be friends, yeah?

HOME//AARON HOTCHNER X READER: COMPLETED

Part 2

The End

Update schedule: every MONDAY&FRIDAY ? I’m working on it I swear guys

@sammyrenae68 @camtree @realdirectionx @ellamalfoypotter @deblou008 @ssamorganhotchner @dangerouslittlefairy @iamanironmanfan @rousethemouse @americanbeauty80 @laneyspaulding19

AARON HOTCHNER X CAMGIRL READER

parts 1 should be here

Part two here

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Taglist: @rousethemouse @realdirectionx @obsessed-oops @extra-trash77

Aaron Hotchner Playlist Collection

Dream about You

Hysteria

PYT

Deuces Are Wild

Whatta Man

Game Shows Touch Our Lives

FU In My Head

Rag Doll

Bent

Not A Bad Thing

Listen To Your Heart

The Cure

Heavy In your Arms

I See Red

Push 1&2

How Will I know?

All Too Well

Parts 3&4

Parts 5&6

How Do I Live?

I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing

Part 2

She Will Be Loved

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

The End

I Found Someone

Unholy

Taglist: @realdirectionx

LIE TO ME (Aaron Hotchner/Ozark Crossover) COMPLETED

Parts 1&2 (info about the characters in the Ozark universe can be found in part one and the link above)

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

The End

@realdirectionx

Master tags: @wheelsupkels @periodtcevans @hausofwhores @criminallyobsessedcm @tojithesourcerkiller @fireworksinthesky

KINKMAS

Toys

Bondage

Somnophilia

Choking

Breeding

Facesitting

Facefucking

Thigh Riding

Cockwarming

Size Kink

Lactation

Biting

Praise

Titf*ck

Blindfold

Masturbation

Edging

Comfort

Master list continued

Tags: @pedrohoe04 @rousethemouse @thegettingbyp2 @mojo366

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #ssa hotchner #fanfiction #writers #female writers #introduction #aaron hotchner playlist collection

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autisticaradiamegido · 2 years

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day 23

even more formalwear

other 2 beta kids absent because i ran out of space on the page oops

#day 23 #year 3 #feferi peixes #nepeta leijon #vriska serket #terezi pyrope #jane crocker #roxy lalonde #jake english #dirk strider #homestuck #ill get jegbert & struder later and probably maybe color these #we’ll see

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wh6res · 3 years

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three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

#nct imagines #yandere nct #yandere kpop #nct smut #nct scenarios #yandere jaemin #yandere jeno #jaemin imagines #jeno imagines #jaemin scenarios #jeno scenarios #jaemin smut #jeno smut

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so-long-soldier28 · 3 years

Text

All You Need Is Love

summary: sometime after 4x07. blaine is interrupted while studying for midterms at dalton. during a study break prompted by sebastian, the two talk and share a heartfelt moment, accompanied by the choir room’s untouched harp.

pairing: sebastian smythe x blaine anderson

word count: ~2.5k (oops)

warnings: mentions of past klaine, but otherwise, none

@uptownseblaine for encouraging me to actually write this, instead of letting it sit and rot in my brain! it is my first fic, but was fun to write and definitely won’t be my last.

~ ❤ ~

It’s early December, and Blaine is sitting alone in the choir room, studying intently for his upcoming midterms. He had finally caught up on his missed work, after transferring back to Dalton only a month ago. The mahogany table where he sits is littered with notes from his classes, including history from the earliest times to the Renaissance, chemistry formulas he didn’t quite understand, flashcards from French class, and an essay on Macbeth for English. Blaine had been working at his essay for over an hour now, and is growing weary. As his eyes scan the pages of the Shakespearian novel for the third time, looking for instances of the themes guilt, loyalty, and fate, for his essay, he can’t help but drop the book to run his hands over his face.

A sharp chime brings Blaine out of his thoughts. Peering up, he realizes his phone is lit up by a text message. He slowly closes the book, takes a deep breath in, then reads it. The message is from Sam, his closest friend from back at McKinley. It’s simple, but still makes his heart feel heavy, hey, just checking on you and making sure you’re okay. we miss you. He groans out loud, partly because the light hits his eyes and he can feel another wave of tiredness hit him, and partly because he feels an overwhelming sense of shame for leaving his friends. He sits there for a second, pondering how to respond, or if he even should.

Blaine feels torn into two. Dalton is where he feels safe and appreciated. When he was desperate for shelter, he ran to the school with its no-tolerance bullying policy and comfortable atmosphere. His fellow students love to remind him of the legacy he left with the Warblers, and how they’re so glad to have him back. But when he fell hopelessly in love, he quickly moved to McKinley to follow the man who captured his heart. He made beautiful and unforgettable memories with Kurt, and even some with new friends he made there. The puzzle pieces started coming out of place when Kurt moved to New York for college and left him confused and alone. Feeling like Dalton was the only home he had ever known, he returned to finish his senior year. He tried to make the decision that was best for him, but he wasn’t even sure if he did that or just left on a whim, trying to escape every memory of his former love.

Even now, sitting in Dalton’s choir room, was he reminded of Kurt. It was about two years ago when he approached him gently and set a radio down beside him. Curious of the boy, yet afraid to get too close, he asked him to help practice a song he had to perform. A safe way to start any eventual friendship or relationship. They are both Warblers, after all. The boys sung the song together as snow fell outside behind them. It was picture perfect. Now it’s only a memory, as Blaine sits alone in the giant room. He feels like he could cry, but no tears come.

Blaine blinks a few times, as if trying to make the memory disappear. He refocuses his vision and tries to remember what he was doing five minutes before being ripped back into time. Macbeth, guilt, loyalty, Sam’s text message. He recalls, looking over his work space. He decides to respond to Sam later to avoid sinking back into a pool of new memories that he was trying so hard to block out of his head. So, he straightens up in his seat and picks up his book again to continue searching for scenes to cite in his essay. Though, he didn’t get far into the paragraph when a creak comes from the corner of the room. Blaine tries to ignore it, but can hear somebody come in, disturbing his silence.

“I don’t mean to bother you. I thought the room was empty.”

Blaine knows that voice. It belongs to Sebastian, the boy who was once his friend, then an enemy, and now a Blaine didn’t know what. He doesn’t know how to respond, so he just turns slightly to face him.

“I can leave.” Sebastian says, after a moment of silence between the two of them. However, it is obvious he doesn’t want to, despite turning back towards the door.

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m just studying.” Blaine finally responds.

A small smile appears on Sebastian’s face. It holds nothing menacing nor contentious, just pleasure that Blaine allowed him to stay. “Anything I can help with? I happen to be very good at French, and Nick said you were in his level III class.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows at his own comment. Blaine is well aware that the boy is fluent in the language, and in fact moved in straight from Paris two years ago.

“Yeah, I might need your help with that class. Right now, though, it’s English. The Macbeth essay on its three most important themes and how they are presented throughout the novel. I’ve been working on it for hours and just keep rereading the same paragraph.” Blaine says, moving his attention away from Sebastian, who’s come rather close to him, and instead focusing on the snow beginning to fall outside the window of the choir room.

Sebastian takes a chair from a nearby desk and moves it to sit beside Blaine. He follows his eyes to the window, also watching the white flurries fall against the dark blue sky, starting the first snowfall of the season.

“Well, in that case, maybe what you need is a break.” He says, taking the book out of Blaine’s hands and closing it with a bookmark before he can stop him.

“No, I can’t take a break. This essay is important. In fact, all of it is important. I need to get this done.” He protests, reaching for the book again.

“You can’t retain anything if you’re too tired to remember it. Just take five and get a cup of coffee, walk around the room, or watch the snow.” Sebastian tells him, pointing out the window. “I’ll even get you a cup if you want,” he adds.

Blaine knows he’s right, but rolls his eyes anyway. Again, both boys say nothing for a minute. It’s Blaine who breaks the silence with, “what are you even doing, still up at this hour?”

Sebastian gives him another genuine smile, “also studying. I was up in my room and had to come down for a break. And a coffee. I only popped in here because I saw snow and these are the best windows to look out and see it fall.”

“You came in to see the snow.”

“I did.”

“Okay.”

“I promise I didn’t know you were in here. But if I did, I would’ve come in a lot sooner.”

There’s the Sebastian that Blaine knows so well. Although, this time it didn’t bother him. Usually when the taller boy would make his flirty comments, Blaine would anxiously wait for a rebound comment from Kurt. The absence of Kurt meant the comment never came. Another pause for silence settles in between them, until Blaine accidentally catches his eye.

“So that break you’re gonna take?” Sebastian starts.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get up, but you’re coming with me for coffee. Otherwise, I might fall asleep while I’m pouring a cup.”

“I’m right behind you, Killer, don’t worry.” He says with a wink at the mention of his old nickname for Blaine.

Blaine shakes his head, but has a visible smile on his face, as he gets up from his chair and heads towards the double doors. Sebastian grabs the door before Blaine could, opening it for him like a gentleman, and ushering him out.

The walk to the cafeteria is spent silently, with both boys thinking to themselves instead of talking out loud. Sebastian is wondering where he stands with Blaine, while Blaine wonders if he can restart his friendship with Sebastian without Kurt’s jealously getting in the way. However, the thought of Kurt still upsets him and he gets immediately swarmed with guilt at the prospect of being friends with the boy that caused so much division between himself and his now ex-boyfriend. The sudden shift in mood does not go unnoticed by Sebastian, who is now wondering what could’ve caused it. When they reach the coffee bar, he puts a hand on Blaine’s shoulder before thinking twice.

“You okay?”

Again, Blaine takes a second to respond, but it’s nowhere near as long enough as the last time. “Yeah, just… thinking.” He pours his coffee, then begins to add the syrup and sugar to his liking, “are we… friends?” He asks nervously.

“I was going to ask you, but, I hope so.” Sebastian responds, then makes his own coffee.

The two make brief eye contact, accompanied by nervous smiles. A silent agreement is made to try a second attempt at their friendship. Sebastian then finishes mixing his coffee and starts towards the door, with Blaine following close behind him.

“So, Macbeth,” Sebastian starts, “guilt is an easy one, there’s several instances of that throughout the play, y’know with all the murder and everything. Loyalty’s not too hard either. My favorite example is Banquo, who is not only faithful to his king, but also to himself. For fate, look at the three witches’ prophecies or how Macbeth struggles against pre-determined destiny.”

Blaine nods, “I’ll make a note of that, thanks.”

Upon entering the room, Blaine immediately makes his way over to the desk to jot down the ideas Sebastian gave him. He highlights the boy’s example of Banquo, which stuck out to him. Subconsciously, he feels as he could relate to the character because of his decision to remain loyal to what he believes is right, but he tells himself he was just appreciating the help from Sebastian.

When he looks up, he notices his new-old-friend didn’t follow him to the desk, and was instead gazing out the window. He watches him take a sip of his coffee, then begin to walk around the Dalton choir room. Small glances are made towards the several poinsettias decorating the room, the binder left on the stool beside the couch (probably Nick’s), and then landed on the golden harp that sat alone in the corner.

Blaine sees his eyes land on the instrument and questions, “Can anybody play that? Or is just for show? I’ve never seen it used.”

Sebastian sets his coffee down next to the lost binder and takes the seat positioned beside the harp, “I know a few teachers can play it. Some play a little for their classes if the opportunity shows itself.” He plucks a string, the sound humming throughout the room.

“Can you, play it?” Blaine asks.

“My mom taught me when I was younger. I was never serious about it, and neither was she, but it is fun to play sometimes.”

“Play something then. If you remember.”

Sebastian hesitates, looking over the instrument, and then at the work scattered on Blaine’s desk.

“For me.” He adds.

Still slightly enamored by the boy across the room, those two simple words convince Sebastian to bring his hands up to the strings and begin strumming softly, “this is one my mom taught me.” He tells him, and Blaine begins to recognize All You Need is Love, by the Beatles.

About thirty seconds in, Blaine softly joins his voice with the echoes of the harp,

There's nothing you can know that isn't known,

Nothing you can see that isn't shown,

There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be,

It's easy,

He then fades into a hum similar to that of the instrument as Sebastian continues for another few seconds. By the time he pulls his fingers from the strings, Blaine is only an arm’s length away. Sebastian feels his hands meet with Blaine’s as he gently takes them and walks him back to the desk. He’s nervous by the gesture, not used to Blaine showing him physical affection, but doesn’t stop him. He stops to grab his coffee on the way, taking a sip to hide his reddening face. When they reach the table, Sebastian sits across from him, but is still close enough to reach out and touch.

“That was beautiful, Seb. I’ll have to thank your mom for that.” Blaine finally comments, making him blush harder.

He doesn’t know how to answer, except to laugh. Partly out of shyness from Blaine being impressed with him, partly from the comment mentioning his mom, and a small bit from the subtle nickname that makes his heart flutter. When he finally meets Blaine’s eyes again, they were looking right at him, causing his heart to pound even more.

“Seb, I came back to Dalton because it felt right to me. Like this is where I’m supposed to be. I guess that makes me like Banquo, staying loyal to myself and doing what I believe is necessary,” he began.

Sebastian nods, not being able to get any words out, but eager to hear what Blaine is telling him.

“I honestly have been debating if I made the right choice. Even if I think I belong here, I’ve been struggling with so much guilt for leaving behind my friends at McKinley. I know that I can still see them, but regardless, I feel bad. Before you came in tonight, one of them sent me a text and I couldn’t even reply.”

The confession causes the rosiness to leave Sebastian’s cheeks as he ponders how to answer. He finally tells him, “I don’t know the whole situation, but whatever you feel in your heart is right is what is you’re supposed to do. It’ll work out, I promise,” he hopes he sounds convincing, trying to ease the boy’s mind.

Blaine nods again, but hesitates before responding. “I think I’m right where I’m should be. Here, at this desk. Struggling over Macbeth and chemistry that I don’t even dare look at this late at night.”

Sebastian laughs once more as Blaine lightens the mood.

“No, but I’m serious. I think right here, with you, is where I’m supposed to be. It’s fate.” Blaine tells, looking directly at him.

Blush creeps its way back on the taller boy’s face. The boy who never gets shy, nor embarrassed; the one who’s only kryptonite is the one in front of him. He glances down at his lap, trying to hide his face. Blaine draws his attention back to his notes, and begins scribbling down his essay, finally understanding how to write about the themes he’s been so unsure about, until now. When Sebastian looks back up, he scoots his chair over to Blaine and begins to help him pick out which scenes to include in his paper. The two stay like that long into the night, stealing glances at each other every once in a while, faces decorated with rose-painted cheeks. After years of pining, fate would finally get its way.

#glee #another glee post #seblaine #sebastian smythe #blaine anderson #sebastian smythe x blaine anderson #glee imagine #seblaine oneshot

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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

Text

Laundry Day

Sam x Reader smut drabble. 480 words, explicit, un-beta’d. I posted a list of smut dialogue prompts yesterday and @fandom-princess-forevermore sent an ask about one in particular: “Are you wearing my shirt?”

And... yeah. Porn.

The washing machine started clunking again, shaking under me, and I kicked it absentmindedly, turning a page.

“Is it doing the—” Sam said, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

“This load’s almost done,” I told him, setting down my book as he walked in.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

I glanced down, then gave him an innocent smile. “Laundry day.”

“And you had nothing else to wear?” he said quietly, his voice soft and heated. He closed the door behind himself pointedly.

I batted my eyelashes. “Not really, no.”

“Bullshit,” he half-laughed. “What did I tell you about stealing my clothes?”

I licked my lips, staring at his mouth. With me sitting on the washing machine, there was less of a height difference, but I still had to tilt my head back. He was right up in my space, too, crowding in close, standing between my knees.

“I don’t remember,” I lied.

He ran his hands under the hem of the oversized flannel and up my bare thighs. His fingers brushed up my center, finding bare slick skin. I shivered. He curled two fingers into me, dragged them out, and I groaned, leaning back with my hands on the washer and arching my back.

“What I said was that it made me want to rip it off you. And I said don’t, because I can’t control myself when you do that.”

“Oops,” I groaned.

“You’re not wearing underwear.” He knew my body almost too well; he knew exactly how to rub and twist and work me open.

“Laundry day.”

“Admit it,” he said quietly, husky and deceptively sweet, pumping his fingers in deep. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

I was whimpering with every thrust, embarrassingly close already, and I had to concentrate, gritting my teeth to get the word out: “Yeah.”

He pulled his fingers away and licked them clean, and I whined, trying to wrap my legs around his waist. He grabbed the front of the shirt and yanked it open, sending buttons flying, leaving me exposed, before undoing the buckle of his belt. I bit my lip, watching his fingers on the button of his jeans, watching him stroke himself.

“Don’t lie to me,” Sam said, smirking. He hooked his hands under my knees, pulling me against him and spreading my legs wide, and then started to push in, opening me up slowly, thick and perfect.

“Wanted you,” I whispered, breathless.

“You just wanted to tease? Wanted to drive me crazy?” He punctuated the words with quick, sharp jabs of his hips, and I saw stars. “Wanted this?”

“Yeah,” I panted. “Oh, fuck, I—”

Sam slammed in deep, grinding his hips. “Take it, then.”

The washing machine started to shake again, vibrating just as I couldn’t be bothered to kick it this time. At least the noise covered up the way I shouted as I came.

#sam winchester #sam winchester smut #spn #supernatural #sam winchester x reader

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expectingtofly · 3 years

Text

Sign Here

AU-Modern Setting, Meet-Cute, Dean is a UPS Driver, Cas and Dean are idiots, Gabe is trying to help

4k (oops this fic got long)

also posted on ao3

written for Day 2 of @starrynightdeancas 2k Followers Celebration <3 <3

Castiel knelt on the grass to pull up some stubborn weeds in the garden lining the front of his newly-bought house. The previous inhabitants had left behind a tangled mess of rose bushes and weeds, and after a week of unpacking boxes, he was happy to finally have time to spend outside. One of the perks of moving from an apartment to a small bungalow—finally space for a garden. Although, he was sure the inside of his house would soon become just as packed with plants as his apartment had been.

Engrossed as he was in weeding and planning what flowers he would plant to expand the garden, he didn’t hear someone approach until a shadow fell over the dirt.

Startling, he looked up to see a man standing on the walkway next to him. “What—oh.” By the man’s clothes—brown collared shirt and shorts—and the package he was holding, Castiel realized he was a UPS delivery driver. “Hello.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the driver said, fighting back a smile.

Castiel stood, brushing dirt off his hands. “It’s alright.”

The man held out a package. “I was gonna deliver this to your front door, unless you want to take it now.”

“Yes, thank you.” Taking it, Castiel looked down at the label, trying to remember what he had ordered. Something for his kitchen, probably.

“Did you just move in?” the UPS driver asked. His eyes were very green, a spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. Freckles everywhere, Castiel realized, seeing the way they lightly spotted his bare arms. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

Realizing he was staring, Castiel reddened, glanced down at the package in his hands. “Uh, yes, I did. Last week.”

“Welcome to Bloomfield, then.” He nodded at the rose bushes. “Nice garden you got here.”

“You don’t have to lie, it’s a mess.” The driver laughed and Castiel smiled a little. “It’s not much now. Hopefully I’ll be able to fix it up soon.”

“I’ll keep an eye out, see how things develop.” The man took a step back and gestured to the UPS truck on the street. “I’ve got other packages to deliver. Nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Castiel said, watching him leave. Kneeling down to continue yanking out the prickly weeds, he smiled. It was nice to meet someone friendly; he hadn’t gotten to meet many people yet with the chaos of moving in. Of course, he thought, glancing back at the UPS truck as it rumbled down the street, it didn’t hurt that the driver was extremely attractive as well.

***

The next week, Castiel was hanging up art prints in his living room when he heard the doorbell ring. Assuming it was for a package he’d ordered, he took his time getting to the door, straightening the print on the wall before weaving through the cardboard boxes he still hadn’t unpacked.

When he opened the front door, however, he was surprised to see the green-eyed UPS driver standing on his porch holding the package.

The man’s face brightened. “Hi. Got a delivery for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, opening the door wider. “I didn’t realize you were waiting. I thought you delivery drivers just dropped off the package and disappeared.”

The UPS driver laughed. Such a nice laugh, Castiel thought. “Right, yeah, that’s what we normally do. But, uh, we have a new policy. Have to get a signature for packages.” He handed over a clipboard and pen, pointing to the line at the bottom of the page. "Just sign here."

“Oh. Alright.” Castiel took the clipboard and signed his name. When he handed it back, he saw the man glance at the signature. “Castiel,” he supplied.

“Cool name. I’m Dean.”

“Nice to meet you, Dean.” Having been occupied all week with moving in and subsequently starved for conversation, he added, “You’re one of the first people I’ve met so far. The other being a cashier at that grocery store down the street.”

“Still getting settled in?”

“Yes. It’s taking much longer than I anticipated. I hate unpacking. It never seems to end.”

“Yeah, moving’s a bitch. You liking the place so far, though?”

Castiel nodded. “I do. Much improved from the apartment where I was living before.”

“God, I bet. I share an apartment with my brother—don’t get me wrong, I like living with him, but our landlord’s an asshole.” He gestured to the right. “Garden’s looking great.”

“Thank you. I just bought petunias, but I haven’t had a chance to plant them.” He pointed at the small brown box Dean was still holding. “That should be new gardening gloves in there.”

“Oh, right, your package.” Dean’s face looked a little red as he handed the box over. “Um, well, I should be on my way. See ya.” He stepped off the porch with a wave and Castiel waved back before going inside.

As he unpacked his belongings, he realized filling a house was harder than he’d thought. There were so many household items he was missing. Perhaps a trip to the store would be faster, but ordering online was easier—or so he told himself as he opened his laptop.

I’m only trying to save myself time, he reasoned, though inwardly he might have been hoping Dean would deliver the package.

Though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he found himself growing more impatient over the next few days. Then, one afternoon as he organized his silverware drawer, he heard the doorbell ring. He practically ran to the front door, then paused and steadied himself before opening it, waiting a few seconds so it wouldn’t seem like he’d rushed over.

It might not even be Dean, he chastised himself as he unlocked the door.

Dean smiled at him when he swung the door wide.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said, trying to sound casual and hide his smile.

“Hi.” He looked to be about Castiel’s age. What were the chances that someone this attractive was single? “Got another package. A heavy one this time.”

Pushing away those thoughts, Castiel took it from him and placed it inside on the floor. “Thank you. Don’t I have to sign something?”

“Uh, shit, yeah.” Dean handed over the clipboard and pen, and as Castiel signed, he nodded at the package. “Something else for the garden?”

Castiel shook his head, handing back the clipboard. “A mixer. I thought maybe I could try my hand at baking. My mom sent me a few of her recipes.”

Dean’s eyes brightened. “You ever want inspiration, there’s a diner, other side of town, a few blocks from where I live, that makes the best pie. Makes them fresh every morning.”

“I’ll have to go sometime.” He stopped short of saying that maybe he’d see Dean there, not wanting to sound too excited at the prospect.

Maybe I should order more things for the kitchen, he thought, shutting the door after saying goodbye to Dean. Or a new bath mat, and curtains, maybe. The boxes he had yet to unpack scolded him by their presence, but he ignored them. If receiving new items meant talking to a friendly face, who could blame him?

***

“You sure get a lot of packages,” Dean remarked the next week when Castiel opened the door.

Castiel reddened. “Turns out it’s hard to fill a whole house.”

“I’m not complaining, you’re the one giving me a job to do.” Dean handed over the package. “What’s it this week?”

“A watering can.”

“You really like to garden, don’t you?” Dean gestured to the flowers and plants lining the front of the house. “I mean, you’ve added a lot since moving in.”

“Yes, well, I find it’s a wonderful way to wind down after work.”

Dean nodded. “I get that. Any spare time I have, I work on my car.”

Castiel glanced at the UPS truck, because he hadn’t really considered Dean driving anything else. His heart beat a little faster at the thought of running into Dean somewhere else, at the diner, at the grocery store. He wondered how Dean dressed when he wasn’t in his uniform, what else he did in his free time.

Dean followed his gaze to the street and gestured to the UPS truck. “This thing, it’s crap. No AC, no radio. What do you drive?” He glanced at Castiel’s driveway. “That a Lincoln Continental? 78? 77?”

Castiel caught the derisive tone in his voice. “78. And I like it,” he added defensively.

Dean smiled, raising his hands. “Eye of the beholder, I guess. You ever need work done on it, let me know, I can help.” His eyes widened a little at his own words. “I mean, you don’t need to, I just meant, if you want. I’m good at that stuff.”

“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate the offer.” Inwardly, he cursed his car for being so reliable. Maybe the engine light would turn on and he could take him up on his offer. Or maybe Dean was only being friendly and didn’t really mean it.

When Dean headed back to his truck and Castiel shut the door, he realized Dean hadn’t asked him to sign anything. Maybe he’d only forgotten.

***

“Gotten acquainted with the locals?” Gabriel asked a few nights later when he called to see how Castiel was settling in.

“I talked with one of my neighbors yesterday. Arla. She’s eighty-two and owns three cats.” Leaning against the kitchen counter, Castiel glanced at the mixer. “And, uh, I did meet someone else. Someone my age, not a neighbor. Dean.”

“Met someone? Like went on a date with—”

“No, he works for the UPS, he’s been delivering my packages.” He was interrupted by Gabriel laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“So instead of going out and meeting real people, you’re making friends with the delivery guy.”

“Dean is real,” Castiel protested. “He’s very kind and friendly. And helpful. He’s told me about places to check out in town and complimented my garden—”

“Damn, Cas, sounds like you really like this guy.”

“No, he’s just a nice person,” Castiel insisted. By Gabriel’s laughter, he knew he wasn’t being believable. “Alright, fine. I enjoy talking to him.” He wasn’t going to tell Gabriel that seeing Dean was becoming his favorite part of the week.

“He single?”

“Um. Yes.” He may or may not have asked Arla if she knew Dean, and may or may not have learned that she couldn’t believe “a charming young man like him is still single.” Oh, and that if she were a younger woman, she would be ordering packages left and right to flirt with him when he delivered. Castiel did not appreciate that last part, even if Arla had no idea how close to the truth she’d struck. I’m not flirting, he argued inwardly.

“Well, are you going to make a move or not?” When Castiel didn’t respond right away, Gabriel added, “Right, I forgot who I’m talking to.”

“I might,” Castiel protested. “But we only just met. And I don’t even know if he likes me. He’s only doing his job.”

“May as well ask him out, see what he says.”

Castiel sighed. “I don’t want to rush into anything. I only just moved here.”

“Well, you snooze, you lose, Cas. Don’t miss out on something just because you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared!”

I’m not scared, he repeated to himself when he said goodbye and hung up the phone. He was being reasonable. But maybe Gabriel was right. Dean had to be somewhat interested—delivery guys didn’t just stick around to talk after delivering a package. Maybe he’d test the waters, try to see if Dean was truly interested or just being friendly.

***

A few days later, he was watering his petunias when Dean got out of his truck with another package.

“Hey, Cas!” he called.

“Hello, Dean.” Setting down his water can, he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Thank you,” he said, taking the narrow box from Dean. Before he lost his courage, he spoke up, “I, um, made a pie this morning.” Whether he’d made it specifically to offer to Dean was something he’d never admit to anyone, much less himself. “I was wondering if you wanted a slice? You can tell me if it’s good or not.”

Dean broke into a grin. “Shit, Cas, really? Yeah, thanks.”

“Wait here, I’ll grab it.”

When he returned to the doorway with a paper plate covered in foil, he caught Dean looking inside his house.

“It’s still a mess in here,” Castiel said, handing the plate over. “I’ve been kinda busy with work.”

“No, yeah, totally, no judgement.” He peeled back the foil and inhaled. “Fuck, I’m starving. This looks amazing.” Picking up the slice, he took a bite. “Mmm,” he said, rolling his eyes back.

“Good?” Castiel asked, amused.

“So good,” Dean said, his voice muffled. He swallowed. “You’re a natural.”

“Thank you. I have more, if you’d like it.”

“Don’t tempt me. Yes.”

Grinning, Castiel went back inside and packaged up two more slices, brought them to Dean.

“You’re an angel,” Dean said. “Seriously.” He juggled the plates in his hands. “So, where do you work?”

Castiel leaned on the doorway. “I work here. I’m an editor. I do freelance work.”

“Dude, that’s cool. Nice that you get to work from home.” Looking down at his watch, he swore quietly. “Sorry, I need to keep moving. I’ve got a lot of deliveries today.”

“Oh,” Castiel said, disappointed, straightening. “Alright. Sorry for keeping you so long.”

“No problem, this was a nice break.” He stepped off the walkway. “Thanks for the pie.”

“You’re welcome.” Ask him for his number. Ask him if he would like to go out. But he kept quiet and watched Dean cross the yard back to his truck.

***

That night, Castiel ordered a set of bookends shaped like trees. He checked his email the next few days, tracking the package. On the day it was to be delivered, he had to run errands and got stuck in traffic. When he pulled into his driveway, he saw a package sitting on the front porch. Shit. He’d missed Dean.

Grabbing his bag of groceries, he walked over and picked up the package with his free hand. Then he noticed a note taped to the top.

Sorry I missed you, it read. The pie was incredible.

Castiel smiled.

***

Sunlight streamed through his living room windows as Castiel organized his books on his bookshelves. He was just pushing his new bookends into place when the doorbell rang. Frowning, he went to the front door and looked out through the window. Dean?

“Hello, Dean,” he said, opening the door. “I wasn’t expecting a package today.”

“Oh, really?” Dean looked like he was fighting back a smile as he turned around the cardboard box in his hands. Bold black letters were written across the front: SAY HI TO DEAN FOR ME.

Castiel’s eyes widened and he snatched the box out of Dean’s hands. “What? I don’t know how—” He scanned the box for the label. Gabriel, he realized. “It’s my brother,” he explained. “I was telling him about you, he must’ve sent me this to embarrass me, I’m so sorry.”

Dean’s smile won out. “No, it’s fine, that’s kinda hilarious.” He shifted his stance, the wooden porch boards creaking. “You, uh, you told him about me?”

Castiel’s head snapped up from glaring at Gabe’s name on the return label. “Um, yes,” he faltered. “Well, I was just telling him that I met someone, and it’s been nice to, uh, uh, have a friend.”

Friend? He hardly knew Dean, for fuck’s sake. For all he knew, he was just a random person Dean spoke to occasionally on his route, no more important than Arla or any of the other people he delivered to.

But Dean smiled. “Yeah, uh, me too. I mean, I like meeting people on my route, just makes the day a lot better when I get to stop and talk.” He reddened a little and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down at his boots.

“I hope I don’t keep you from your other deliveries,” Castiel said.

Dean waved his hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I get the other ones done fast so I can spend more time here.” He cut himself off and reddened even further, as if realizing what he was admitting.

So, Dean was deliberately trying to see him, talk to him. Castiel felt his face heat up as well. “I’m sure delivering packages all day can be very boring,” he offered.

Dean nodded quickly. “Yeah, ya know, it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Besides, I’m just trying to make sure this neighborhood’s newest resident is doing okay.” He grinned. “Think of me as the welcome committee.”

“Well, I appreciate it. Really.”

Dean nodded again, and they stood there awkwardly for a few long moments. Castiel glanced back down at the box, Gabe’s words ringing in his head. Ask him out, see what he says.

“I’ll get on my way,” Dean said, stepping back. He smiled a little. “Tell your brother I said hi.”

“I will.” Maybe he should just blurt it out. Dean had said he enjoyed stopping by here. But maybe he only meant that in a friendly way. Castiel had called him a friend, after all. He chickened out. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.” Dean walked away and Castiel glared down at the box.

“Not helpful,” he told it.

***

“Gabe, I hate you.”

“What? I was just trying to spark conversation between you two—”

“I hate you. I can hold a conversation well enough myself, thank you very much. You only made things awkward.” He paused before adding, “Dean says hi, by the way.”

Gabriel cheered and Castiel pulled his phone away from his ear. “So it worked? You asked him out?”

“Um...” Castiel pulled at a rip on his gardening jeans. “No.”

“Cassie!” Gabriel whined. “I did all that work for nothing? What’s the holdup? Ask him out.”

Castiel groaned. “I will. Eventually. But, I mean, can he even say yes? He’s on the job—”

“Cas, he’s already taking time out of his workday to talk to you. Pretty sure he’ll say yes, even if he’s working. Stop making excuses.”

“Fine. I’ll ask him.” He only said it to get Gabriel off his back, but his palms grew sweaty even thinking about it.

“You better. Keep me updated.”

“Only if you never pull a prank like that again.”

“I can’t promise anything.”

***

Seated at his desk, Castiel frowned at an awkwardly worded sentence that refused to form itself into any coherency. Was the past tense of lie lay or laid? Why couldn’t he ever remember?

The doorbell ringing drew his attention and, grateful for the break, he saved the document he was editing and got up. Going to the front door, he wondered if he had any left-over pie to give Dean and drag out their time together in the doorway.

Opening the door, he began to say hello, then paused. A UPS delivery man was walking away to his truck, a package at Castiel’s feet on his front porch.

“Wait!” Castiel called, stepping outside. The man turned—not Dean. Someone he’d never seen before. “Who the hell are you?”

The man looked startled. “I, uh, I’m a delivery—”

“No, sorry.” Castiel flushed. “Where’s Dean?”

“Dean?” The man frowned. “I don’t know who that is. We all got new routes a few days ago. He must be on another route now.”

Castiel’s heart sank. “Oh.” Another route? He looked down at the package. “Don’t I have to sign something?”

“No, you’re all good. We don’t require signatures.” The man continued to his truck and Castiel picked up the package. A lattice pastry roller to make more intricate pie crusts. He’d thought Dean might appreciate the effort.

Shutting the door, he stood in the foyer for a moment. So, Dean was gone. Why hadn’t he ever asked for Dean’s number? He’d had plenty of opportunities.

It’s a small town, he reasoned. I’ll see him again, I have to. He knew Dean lived on the other side of town, maybe if he drove around there, kept an eye out—

Alright, stop, he told himself. He was starting to sound crazy. He dropped the package off on the kitchen table. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

***

The next day, Castiel was seated at his desk, sending an email to a client, when the doorbell rang.

His pulse sped up, and instinctively he rose from his chair. Then he remembered that Dean didn’t deliver to his house anymore. Sighing, he sat back down.

He’d been trying not to think of it, but every other item in his house—the mixer, the bookends, the pastry roller—only reminded him of Dean and brought down his mood.

Why didn’t I take Gabe’s advice? he bemoaned inwardly. That was a thought he never thought he’d have, but it looked like Gabe had been right. He’d lost his chance.

Staring at his computer screen, he tried to focus on his work, but the distraction had ruined his focus. At least I’ll save money, he reasoned ruefully, now that he had no excuse for making random purchases.

The doorbell rang again and he lifted his head, frowning. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember ordering anything. Maybe it was Arla, coming over to say hello.

Rising, he went to the front door and tried to remember the name of that diner Dean had told him about. Maybe he’d stake out there on a weekend, see if Dean showed up. Or was that creepy?

Definitely creepy, he decided with a sigh, opening the door. Then he froze.

“Dean?”

Standing on his front porch—this time in jeans and a black t-shirt, holding a potted fern—was Dean. He smiled hesitantly, almost nervously. “Hi, Cas.”

“What are you doing here?” Castiel looked at the street, but of course the familiar UPS truck wasn’t there. In its place was a sleek, black car.

“My route changed and I, uh, never got to say bye. So I thought I’d just come over. Sorry if that’s weird—”

“No, I’m happy to see you. Just surprised. I thought I’d never…”

Dean grinned. “Scared you’d lost me forever?”

Castiel smiled. “Yeah, a bit,” he admitted.

“I, um, I brought you this.” He held out the plant, laughed nervously. “I felt weird coming over without anything to deliver.”

“Thank you. It’s lovely.” Taking the plant, he stroked the leaves. “I know exactly where to put it.” His heart pounded as he realized now was his chance. He had to take it.

He started to ask for Dean’s number, but Dean started talking too, and they both stopped, laughing. “You first,” Castiel said.

“Um, well.” Dean shoved his hands into his pockets. “I was thinking, would you maybe want to hang out somewhere other than your doorway? I can show you around town.” He gestured to his car. “Take you for a spin in Baby.”

Castiel couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “I would love that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been… I’ve been meaning to ask you out, or ask for your number. I just never worked up the courage.”

Dean grinned. “Am I really that intimidating?”

Castiel laughed. “No. Not at all. You’re quite the opposite.” He gestured inside. “Would you, uh, would you like to come inside?”

“Yeah, totally.”

Castiel started to open the door wider, then paused. “I have a question. You never did need my signature, did you? For the packages?”

Dean frowned, then realization seemed to hit him and his face reddened. “Yeah, uh. No. But I figured it was a surefire way to get your name and talk to you.”

“Is that a trick you use often?”

“Nope, you were the first.” He grinned, eyes suddenly teasing. "Did you really need everything you were ordering, or were all the packages just an excuse to see me?"

Now was Castiel's time to blush. "I did need what I ordered!" he protested. "Well, some things. But mainly... I just wanted to talk to you."

“Well, it worked.”

“Yes.” He stepped back for Dean to come inside his home and smiled at him. “And I’m very glad it did."

Tag List:

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @arcticfox007 @celestialcastiel @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat @harmonyhelms @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @theangelwiththewormstache @confusedisaster @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @darksongfire @lykanyouko

Let me know (message, ask, comment) if you’d like to be tagged in my destiel fics or removed from the list :)

#dailydestieldelights #congrats sophie on 2k!#thanks for organizing this lil challenge #ive had this wip for ages now #and im happy i finally got the push to finish it #AU #cas and dean need to use their words #meet cute #fluff #cas likes to garden #gabe is an annoying brother #expectingtofly writes

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ji-yaaan · 4 years

Text

𝓗𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓗𝓸𝓵𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓮~

With: Leona, Sebek, Jade, Floyd, Vil, Kalim

Warning: So I know that what I made is really annoying for others... so I'd like to warn you that at the beginning, you will see me ramble about the character's hands. If you want to skip to the hc, go to where the 🤝 emoji is. ^~^

Note:Also, I’d like to address that I do not know how to make Headcanons for the life of me.... So this is just me making a shameless hc, with my shameless hand addiction, fueling my shamelessness, as I shamefully self insert myself in these things I wrote... Forgive me for my shamelessness.... Also, pardon me for my annoying commentary and emojis. I simply do not know how to control my excitement and my feelings so😔👊

AND YES! I THINK THIS IS A CRACK HC LOL!

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:

-I'd like to break the silence by saying... LEONA'S HANDS ARE BIG AND MUSCULAR! Leona works out in magift so it's a given that he'd have scrumptious big hands😳😳😳

-Leona's hands are chonky😳 he has long fingers that will surely make yours look very small! Also look at Leona's nails! Its ok looking for me, but it's pretty neat so👌👌👌👌

-Leona's got this rough and rugged look, so I think his hands will probably be kinda rough, BUT NOT THE CRUSTY ROUGH! it's more of the manly rough. A firm hold with his loaded wrist😏

Ok curious what will happen if you hold hands? I gotchu fam:🤝

-Imagine if the both of you were napping and you suddenly intertwined you fingers with his. Leona is a sleepy boi, BUT MAN! HE IS AWARE! Lion boi felt ur hands creeping unto his, but he'll pretend he didn't know that😏

-Leona LOVES holding hands! Only at private tho. This cat boy will never admit to that, but keep holding his hands and look at his reaction. He. Won't. Shrug. You. Off.😏😏👊

-Also when you play and fidget with leona's hands when you're doing premarital hand holding which is illegal btw he loves it when he looks at you spaced out fumbling your fingers with his.

-Leona has big hands, so he'll definitely make yours look wayyyyy smaller. AND LION BOI FINDS THIS ADORABLE! DO NOT FORGET THY HOLY WORDS!

-Lion boi is secretly the type to hold your hands when you're sleeping. He plays with your fingers, admiring how cute and small it is.

-Oh wait...Oops...he got caught... LEONA IS CAUGHT RED HANDED?😳 You wake up finding leona playing with your hands? It's either he turns on his back from embarrasment and tells you to sleep, or he squeezes your hands tighter and burries your face in the crook of his neck from embarrassment. He'll play it off as annoyed, but cat got his toungue huh?. Oh wait.... He IS the big cat😏😏😏

Ok enough babbling with leona...

SEBEK ZIGVOLT:

AHAHAHAHAHA YES MY FAVORITE HANDS! Cough, I'm sorry about that

-Sebek has proportional hands. His is more on the medium-big side. But it is perfectly proportional! At least in my eyes...😳

-The back of his hands are smooth and spotless! Very scumptious to look at! Pls look at sebek's hands too!😳😳😳

-Bebek has PRETTY NAILS UGHHH! He most likely trims and takes care of it every week! Not the best nails, BUT VERY NEAT!😳

-Bebek is a highkey fanboy of malleus, so he trains everyday to protecc his God and saviour Malmal. Naturally, he'll have calloused and rough hands... BUT DO NOT FRET MY CHILDREN! It is not that noticable which shookt me. His hands are a bit roughed up, welp can't help it, he's a man with mang jobs after all. (Yes, I call him bebek because sebek is babey🥺)

Curious what will happend if you hold hands with Bebek? I gotchu fam:🤝

-Sebek is a child so he won't really initiate first on holding hands. BUT WHEN YOU DO! OH BOI!😏

-Sebek has this transparent look to his skin... Almost ghostly per say. BUT WHEN YOU HOLD HIS HANDS... Sebek is not used to this interaction so expect a tomato in front of you... Sebek's face is flushed red reaching down to his neck, and the fun part is, even his hands are blushy blushy��😏😏😏

-After the first time the both of you held hands. Sebek will crave for it A LOT! Expect him to randomly start akwardly making way to you hands and play with it while the both of you are just chilling. Akward..... Sebek.exe will stop working when you look at him confuse, in which he'll get flustered, and ask if he can hold your hands. ADORKABLE!

-It would take him some time trying to calm himself down, all flushed and red embarrased from asking to hold hands.

-At first, Sebek will firmly hold your hands, stiff and afraid he might break your fingers or something.... Pls tell him to relax and just chill🥺🥺🥺

-When the both of you gets used to hand holding, Bebek is the type to kiss your hands as a gesture of Love....hgnnn hot!😳😳😳

I'm sorry, I'm letting my personal hand bias get the best of me..😳👉👈

JADE LEECH:

-HGNNN JADE HAS SQUISHY HANDS!😳😳

-Jade has big hands folks.... Big hands..... Perfect for unscrewing the cap of the holy water bottle.🤠

-mushroom boi has squishable hands in my eyes and you can never change my mind.

-his skin is probably smooth and sleek too, his palms must be soft but firm😳😳

-Jade has this grip that makes you feel safe for some reason. Maybe because it's big? or maybe because it's soft?

Wanna know what it's like to hold hands with mushroom boi? I gotchu:🤝

-Jade...oh Jade.... He is the first one to hold your hands in a surprise. Like... imagine after school ends, you ran up to him and he swiftly intertwines his firngers with yours..😳😳

-You are flushed from this sudden hand holding. Red cheeks, red neck. JADE FINDS THIS VERY SCRUMPTIOUS! Mushroom boi will try to push you on edge. Holding both of your hands tighter, and fumbling his fingers with yours. You're just standing there starstruck and embarrased by the sudden hold. Jade is enjoying this too much...😏😏😏

-Of course, to add more to the fun, JADE IS THE TYPE TO KISS THE BACK OF YOUR HANDS TO TEASE YOU!😳

-if you try to pull away from embarrassment...oh no.... You're just begging for Jade to tease you more huh? He'll hold you tighter and maybe even hug you.

-What if you try to hold his hands first? Oh my... Prepare yourself....if you try to hold his hands, he'll just smile like normal, but as time passes by and both of you are pretty relaxed now...that won't do.... He'd pull your hand he's holding and rest his cheeks at the back of your hand, he'd stare straight at you and tell you how much he loves you....😳😳😳

-goodluck on dealing with embarassment Jade stans (oho i know you love it)

FLOYD LEECH:

-ANOTHER EEL BOI COMING RIGHT UP!

-Floyd is whooping 191cm, it's common sense he has very big hands. Perfect for flipping the pages of the holy bible.😏😏😏

-This man child has some big rough hands! Expect your hands to look very small beside his!

- Also I want to tell you about Floyd's knuckles......I think I found my new religion now... Check out Floyd's knuckles!!😳😳😳👌

- Floyds's wrist is big too....mhmmm scrumptious eel martini😳👌

Do you want to know what it feels like to do premarital hand holding with this hot eel? ME TOO! Illegal hand holding time!🤝

-"Your hands are tiny koebi chan~" Floyd is the first one to randomly hold ur hands.😳

-If Floyd gets bored, he'd try to find interesting things to do to kill of the boredom. HMMM?! Do you see that? Koebi chan's hands! Eel boi will casually start playing with your fingers, squishing your palms as you sit there confused and embarrassed.

-He'll eventually intertwine his fingers with yours, as he points to it with his other hands and say "How cute~ koebi chan's hands are tiny!" Grinning widely with his teeth showing. Practically speaking, you are just putty in this eel boi's hands now. You are a blushing mess.😏😏 FLOYD HOW CAN ONE BE CUTE AND HOT AT THE SAME TIME?

-Eventually, floyd will start to crave having your fingers to hold on to! When you're randomly walking down the halls, don't be surprised if a random eel surprises you by linking your fingers together.🥺🥺

-Whenever eel boi sees you, he'd grab your hands automatically. He loves holding your teeny tiny hands with his big ones.😳

-When you avert your attention to something else, he made this habit of squeezing your hands a bit and looking at you with a pouty face. UGHHH MY HEART HURTS THINKING ABOUT IT-

-Whenever he gets jealous, he grabs unto your hands quite tightly, even if the both of you are out in public. Let's say a random dude keeps on talking to you. He'll grab your hands that’s still intertwined with his, and he'll bring it very very VERY CLOSE to his face.😳😳😳 Then he'd look at you straight in the eye as he bites unto your palms. He'd whisper "You're mine right? Koebi-chan~"😳😳😳

I'm getting too much into floyd, this is starting to become a fanfic🤦

VIL SCHOENHEIT:

-MY CRUSTY VILL~🥺🥺🥺

-Ok vil's hands aren't crusty ok? He may be crusty, but not his hands!!!

-My man vil drowns in hand creams, so expect his hands to feel like clouds. It's soft, smooth and most importantly SQUISHYYY!😳😳😳

-Looking at vil's hands is not that exciting ngl... BUT HIS LAB COAT ONE IS👌 very beautiful👌very scrumptious👌

-Vil has proportional and perfect hands. Fingers are in the medium side, so as his hand size. Very perfect indeed.

-His hands might look frail and feminine at first, BUT MAN! You are so wrong! From a gentle hold, it can escalate to a very strong hot grip in seconds.😳

-The back of his hands looks smooth tbvh. And his nails are ok. BUT HE PROBABLY PUTS A LOT OF EFFORT IN MAKING HIS HANDS PERFECT! SO KUDOS TO MY CRUSTY VIL!🥺

Let's hold Vil's hands illegally ok? Don't tell the cops shhhhh! Hand holding time:🤝

-It would start off as a normal vibing session. The both of you are probably having tea, studying, or mainly just chilling in the lounge.

-But suddenly... Vil takes notice of your hands...Hold your wigs kids.... he'd ask you if you've been taking care of your hands, in which you answer "no" shamefully.

-But Vil will then smile at you and tell you you should take care of your hands and use hand creams to prevent them from going rough! He'll lecture you about how you should take care of yourself so the both of you can be perfect and beautiful together.

-Suddenly vil whips out a handcream from his bag, and he'll ask you for your hands.

-As embarrasing as it sounds. The most beautiful man in twisted wonderland is putting handcream on you.😳😳😳

-Vil would definitely massage your small fingers and compliment how pretty your hands are. He'd tell you how cute your nail are and how soft your palms are. Thats it. You're a blushing mess right now!!😳😳

-You'd try to look away from embarrasment, but when vil sees this... Oh boy... He'd pout, and as he's massaging your hands. He'd intertwine your fingers with his, to make you look at his direction again.

-Vil would definitely kiss your fingers and say "You're beautiful, my love."

VIL I LOVE YOU! ok thats all for that, I'm dying rn.

KALIM AL-ASIM:

-Kalim you adorkable sunshine boi😳😳😳

- Kalim has smol hands, BUT NOT TOO SMALL! I'd say, it's probably perfect for you to hold hands with.😏😏😏

-His nails are also small, I think? But it's cute, and turns out i'm a sucker for cuties.🥺

-His lab card is scrumptious.... Both the hands and the food he is cooking...😳😳😳 I hope i'm not the only one who thinks that.....

-ALSO HE HAS A LOT OF ACCESSORIES IN HIS HANDS WHICH I'M WEAK FOR! omg his bracelets and bangles are making me feel hot and bothered.😳😳😳

-Anyways, kalim is sunshine so expect his hands to be warm and full of infectious positivity.🥺

Wanna have a chance to hold kalim's hands? Ur in for a ride fam!🤝

-At first, you's simply be invited for a flying carpet ride by ya sunshine boi, kalim. Pretty simple huh? Nahhhhh!

-Of course, in order to get to the carpet where kalim is, sunshine boi needs to lift you up in the air.

-Kalim will offer his hands whilst riding on the carpet. Hggnnn such a cliche scene from a movie🥺👌

-But the thing is...... Even if you're already in the magic carpet, sunshine boi will forget he was holding your hands...😏

-He'll keep on telling fun stories and talking to you while both of you are high up in the clouds. Oops.... You noticed you're holding kalim's hands... You went red and flushed from embarrasment. Your hands begin to get sweaty as you stare at the both of yours and kalim's hands together...

-Expect your sunshine boi to take notice of this and ask you what's wrong... You'd point at his hands embarrasingly as you look away in the other direction.

-To your surprise, when you look at kalim again. Kalim is beet red too! A BEET RED KALIM IS RARE! DO NOT FORGET THIS MOMENT GAMERS!🥺🥺🥺

-He'd ask you if it's ok to hold onto your hands maybe just a little bit more???? It's not a sin to ask for more right?😏

-Kalim lets go of your hands for a moment. BUT DONT WORRY! he'll just try to properly hold your hands this time! He'll intertwine his fingers with yours, and maybe lightly squeeze it too.😳

-After this brief akward moment, Kalim goes back to his sunshine tendencies. Smiling brightly like the sun he is🥺🥺🥺

-When your night ride is over PLS DONT LET GO OF KALIM'S HANDS YET! he'll be a bit sad if you do😔👊

-But when the both of you lands on the ground...Kalim would grab the both your hands, and put them both on his cheek.He'd intertwine his fingers with yours from the back of your hands and the both of you probably just wants to melt then and there.

-He'll tell you "please dont go yet!" KALIM UR SO ADORABLE! PLS HUG KALIM!🥺👊

The End ^~^

I just babbled about my hand worshipping tendencies all throughout this headcanon... I'm sorry about that pls. stone me gently for I have sinned....

Tags: @muraenxdae You're the one who suggested this, take responsibility.... @cursedtwst let's lick their hands together ok? @edgymcmytrash u said u wanna be tagged? SUFFER! @nightingale-oath let's be shameless together ok?😳👉👈

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst #disney twst #leona kingscholar #twst headcanons #floyd leech #jade leech #sebek zigvolt #vil schoenheit #kalim al asim #leona kingscholar x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #kalim al asim x reader

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masterjedilenawrites · 3 years

Text

Generally Awkward

Characters: General Hux, and his nameless/gender neutral date

Length: 983 words

A/N: Based on this prompt because drabbles are harder than I thought and I don’t know why I ever made a prompt list for them and I just really needed to write more words about this sad, awkward man...

Armitage Hux was not a patient man by any stretch of the imagination. But he was an anxious one, and perhaps just slightly ridiculous, too. It was his own fault, after all, that he had chosen to arrive a full forty-five minutes early, and thus force himself to endure the one thing he found most stressful in the galaxy: waiting.

He drummed his fingers on the table next to his drink, a tall glass of something pale and sparkly he hadn't bothered learning the name of. He'd been much too distracted by his own thoughts when the waitress had recommended it. The rest of his mannerisms were of a similar fashion: leg bouncing under table, eyes jumping between watch and door, tongue desperately licking very dry lips.

Hux was a natural-born leader; he had made his way to the top of the food chain with confidence, poise, and charisma. He'd commanded squadrons and spoken from podiums and stood alongside the galaxy's most powerful people.

But he had never been on a date.

A date with the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes, no less. How he had managed such a feat was a question he refused to answer, just in case it turned out he actually hadn't.

When they finally arrived, it was like his every nerve was on high alert. He stood abruptly from his chair, creating a harsh scraping sound that echoed embarrassingly throughout the humble establishment. Thankfully his date didn't seem to mind, giving him a smile as they greeted him, politely asking how he was this evening. He stuttered out a word in response; he wasn't sure if it was Fine or Good because he thought of both at the same time and didn't actually hear which one ended up coming out of his mouth, not when his ears were so hot. Could a temperature be noisy? Apparently.

His date must have responded but he didn't catch that, either. They were shrugging off their coat and he then realized he should be a gentleman and help pull out their chair. He was overly cautious about the legs on the floor this time and avoided any further uncivilized sounds as he scooted it under them.

"This is so nice," his date was saying by the time he got himself back into his own chair on the other side of the table. "I've never been here before."

They looked around sheepishly, like they were admitting some kind of secret. Hux knew they were not exactly from an affluent background and would have most likely been intimidated by the ritzier places he was more accustomed to frequenting. He'd still chosen a nice place - he wasn't taking his first date to a bar for goodness sake - but it was smaller and quieter, as a comfortable compromise.

"Yes, it is nice," he said, focusing more on his manners than getting a conversation going. He realized his mistake too late as the silence between them settled in like a dense fog. He felt so distant and disconnected from the person across the table. This was a date; the opposite was supposed to be happening.

"So..." he started, only his date had opened their mouth with similar intentions and their words collided over each other in a clumsy mess.

"Oh sorry--"

"Oops--"

"Go ahead--"

"You first--"

"Um--"

Eventually they were saved from their fumbling by the waitress. Hux hadn't looked at the menu, even in the forty-five minutes he'd made himself wait for no reason. He only knew a few of the dishes from previous visits so he picked the first one he could find on his cursory glance of the page. His date smiled and said they would have the same. They trusted his taste, his judgment. He felt his chest swell a little at the thought.

"You were going to say?" Hux managed to get out first.

His date blushed and fiddled with their hair as they dove into a quick story about how they almost ran late due to a situation in their apartment lobby involving a security guard and a bird. Hux couldn't help but chuckle softly along with them, even though it wasn't a particularly funny tale. He was free here, free from heavy-handed expectations, and free to emote as openly as he chose. And he would gladly laugh at only mildly humorous anecdotes so long as they came from the person sitting across from him.

If Hux had recounted his first date ventures to a friend afterward, he would have stated the conversation flowed pleasantly from there, moving from topic to topic as naturally as if they had known each other for ages. But firstly, Hux didn't have friends. And secondly, it would have been a lie. He could easily schmooze a politician or discuss tactics with military commanders, but he could not seem to get the hang of the simple process of getting to know someone.

He stumbled over his words whenever they asked him a question. He dropped his fork in his food because his hands were too sweaty. At one point he simply gave up and excused himself to the refresher, despite his cocktail still remaining neglected. Time seemed to drag on and on.

And yet, regardless of his nerves and his awkwardness and his sweat, he couldn't say he was miserable. No, misery belonged to his childhood, enclosed by those cold, heartless walls of his father's rooms. This date, shared with a person whose eyes he was convinced shone brighter than any known star in space, was far from misery or even mundane neutrality.

That's why, when the food was later cleared and the bill paid and the crisp evening air met their still-blushing faces, Hux was able to forget each and every uncomfortable moment as he looked down at them and asked to do it all again a second time.

#star wars #general armitage hux #awkward first date #drabble turned one shot #hux x reader #hux x oc

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queenbeean · 3 years

Text

she's mine / ari levinson

werewolf au

author’s note: fic for @lielullabye 500 challenge, congratulations💕(this is a repost of my work) dedicated to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork love you amber💕

warnings: angst, mentions of sexual harassment, threats

prompts: slight beauty and the beast au; werewolf!ari x mate!reader

read please: this is an alternate universe with ari levinson, in this fic there’s no RSDR, no guy thomas, just the man with the same principles and ideals; also, my knowledge on werewolf dynamics is limited, i’m writing this with what i know from what i’ve read before

“Why do you hate her so much?” Sam asked Ari. They were coming back from yet another successful battle against rogues. Those wolves were tormenting packs all around the state and Ari made it his mission to help as many packs as he could. But the rogues were still coming, they were relentless.

“I don’t hate her.” He grumbled.

Ari didn’t want a mate. Simple as that. He didn’t want to deal with caring about someone who had the power to kill him. He was fine with saving packs from being murdered by rogues. That was his mission in life. No getting distracted.

Until she came along. Until he saved her.

Ari wanted to despise her. He needed to hate her.

Why couldn’t he just bring himself to reject her?

He had tried so many times. It would be so easy to go up to her, reject her and be free of their so called bond. The human in him didn’t want to be cruel. But he couldn’t allow himself to care for her, for anybody. That was the animalistic part of him. Because the wolf part of him wanted nothing more than to be her mate.

Still he couldn’t do it.

“Okay, then. Let me rephrase.” Sam chuckled, making Ari grit his teeth. “Why do you dislike her so much?”

“Can we not do this right now? I’m tired.”

“We never do this. You are always tired when it comes to her. Funny because she’s as quiet about you whenever I ask her.”

Ari’s head whipped so fast in Sam’s direction. “So now you are talking to her?” He demanded to know, his Alpha voice coming through. He didn’t know why Sam talking to her was making his blood boil.

Sam’s laugh boomed. It was so easy riling him up when it came to Y/N. “So what if I am?” He taunted.

Ari stopped the car, tires screeching on the pavement, making the cars behind struggle to stop as well. He got out of the car and before going to Sam’s side, he mind-linked his wolves.

“Everybody get to the house, now!”

The first driver resumed driving and the rest followed. The Alpha’s orders were clear. They wouldn’t want to disobey in any way, especially with an angry Alpha.

Ari opened Sam’s door and took him out by his shirt. “She’s a really nice girl, Ari.” Sam continued his teasing. If Ari wasn’t so angry, he’d realise what Sam’s intentions were. He would also know that Sam meant no harm and would never disrespect Y/N nor his Alpha. “Why are you so worked up over me and her?”

Ari dropped him and Sam took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

Back at the pack house, Ari walked in with his mind set on someone. His pack bowed in respect and in other circumstances, he would nod in acknowledgement but he was on a mission. He opened door, making young wolves whimper in fear, something he regretted instantly. He tried calming himself down but the she and Sam would pop into his mind.

At last he found her. The sight in front of him doing something to his heart. Y/N was sitting with a book in her hands, the pages showing cartoon wolves. Around fifteen toddler wolves were sitting in front of her, their attention on the captivating woman telling the story. Her hands moving gracefully and her words smooth as honey.

“Fuck.” Ari muttered under his breath. Y/N gasped, letting him know that she had heard and so would the younglings would have if they weren’t so captured by the story. Their eyes locked and she looked away first, intimidated by his hard stare. “Y/N, a word.” She nodded in acknowledgement and closed the bedtime story.

Simultaneous whines came from the young wolves. “It’s time to sleep. We can finish tomorrow.” She said in a soft voice and Ari cursed in his mind. He stepped aside as the wolves dragged their feet towards their respective rooms. Ari let out a small chuckle at the sight. “How can I help you?” His head snapped in her direction and instinctively took a step back, something as an Alpha he shouldn’t have done. Weakness. Exactly why he didn’t want a mate. Especially a beautiful one with a voice like velvet.

Y/N bowed her head and took two steps back when Ari did that. He hasn’t officially rejected her yet but she knew it would nearly kill her whenever he did. It was already painful and he had only put some space between them. It was a ticking bomb that he was handing her and she no choice but to accept it.

Ari swallowed hard as he realised what he made her feel but then Sam’s words sounded in his mind again. “Why have you been talking to Sam?” No, he wasn’t beating around the bush. He needed to know with urgency what was going between his Beta and his very own mate.

“What do you mean?” Y/N sounded genuinely confused.

Ari groaned. “Don’t play dumb, Y/N. He told me you two have been talking and I want to know why.” He didn’t realise he had walked into her personal space until there was nothing else he could smell but her. And it was maddening.

“Alpha,” Y/N whispered, feeling her heart beating worryingly fast and her wolf clawing for a way out, ready to be with her mate.

The way his title sounded coming out of her lips pushed him to the edge. In a swift movement, he carefully pushed her against the wall and kissed her. His lips were devouring her and she tried her best to keep up with him. As an Alpha, she knew he had the upper hand when it came to dominating her. And she loved it. The way his hands were firmly but gently cupping her cheeks until they needed air. Then one of his hands left to cup the back of her neck and the other to wrap around her waist. His hot breath fanned from his cheek, her jaw to her neck and shoulder as he placed open-mouthed kisses all over every inch of skin. She could do nothing but run her hands through his long hair, the feel of his silky strands were driving her crazy. And she gripped them tight when she felt his canines rubbing the place where her neck met her shoulder, what would be her marking spot.

As soon as Ari felt her tensing, he came to his senses and pulled away. His eyes locked with hers and his heart hurt when he saw the fresh tears gathering.

Y/N pushed herself off the wall and walked past Ari.

“Don’t take another step, Y/N.” He didn’t know what to tell her though, he didn’t know if he could succumb to her. She stopped, she couldn’t disobey direct orders from the Alpha, from her Alpha, her mate.

Ari saw her lips trembling but he couldn’t bring himself to move and get her in his arms. And he didn’t try stopping her when she moved. He just saw how she walked away from him, hurting him in the process.

Y/N ran out of the pack house all the way to the river a couple of miles into the woods. She knew he wasn’t following her but her body could still feel him. Then she yanked her clothes off and shifted, hoping that running would make him disappear from her thoughts. She needed to brace herself, harden her heart for when the time came that he would reject her. Because he had said so. Just waiting for the right time.

Ari’s wolf was going crazy. There was too much distance between him and his mate. The only thing that Ari staying put was knowing she was still in his territory. The patrolling wolves of that night let him know that she was safe. And as much as he hated it, Sam offering to keep her company kept his mind at peace.

He knew his resolution was crumbling but there was so much at stake for him. A few minutes with her had him losing focus. Nothing else existed but them. How was he supposed to care for an entire pack when he lost himself in her.

“Alpha Levinson.”

Ari looked up to the door and his blood boiled. Gabe Ashton was the type of wolf that shouldn’t be an Alpha. Ruthless, merciless and cocky. Had been tormenting wolves for years but without proof there was nothing much Ari could do to stop him. It didn’t help that he had an army of trained and loyal killers that somehow helped rogues destroy entire packs.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Ari stood up and tried moving forward when Gabe presented a gun and pointed at him.

Gabe tsked. “Be smart, Ari. I came in peace, I promise.” His smile was taunting.

“What do you want?” Ari gritted through his teeth.

“I have a proposition for you and you will accept it.” Gabe grinned maniacally. “I’ve been planning for months. You have a nice pack. Strong wolves. Pretty she-wolves. You have pretty much everything. Last I heard you were only missing a mate to have the perfect pack…”

“Sam, get Y/N back to the house. Now!”

“I’ve been planning your destruction and today, something made me realise that I didn’t have to plan so much. I don’t even have to do much. You have a weakness but then again, you are not even that strong. Ari Levinson, the mighty Alpha, but are you really?”

“What do you want, Gabe?” Ari repeated, his hands fisted and his face red. Nobody threatened him or what was his.

“How’s that pretty new wolf of yours, your mate? You know, I saw her shift earlier. Got the whole show for myself. It’s funny. I didn’t catch any scent that would indicate she’s been claimed, she was reeking of you but no mark on her soft neck…” Gabe taunted, waving his hand in front of Ari. “Since you don’t seem to care about her, what about I mate her? I wonder how she would look under me as I make her mine-”

Ari lost it. He grabbed Gabe by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. Gun going off before dropping to the floor.

“One more word out of you and I’ll fucking end you.” He threatened. “She’s my mate, you hear me. Mine!”

Sam burst into the room. “Ari, Y/N… she’s gone.” Sam’s voice was frantic.

Gabe chuckled and Ari growled.

“Oops, too late I guess.”

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader #mine

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

Ashes Chapter 16: Up Against the Wall

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

Summary: You two will probably never stop fighting, but at least you're trying.

A/N: I'm so sorry to have to split this up. This was a smut chapter but it was just so damn long. I couldn't just slam 15 pages here. I mean I could, but it didn't make sense to. But next week? Smut. Also definitely gonna write a prequel to this. Even if it's just for me, unless you guys wanna see it haha <3

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

“What was that about?” Liu sat on the edge of your bed at your side without so much as asking for permission. Bold.

“Oh, that?” You looked to the door in amusement. “Yeah, about that. Cole knows.”

“Cole knows what?”

“Cole knows.” You gave him a pointed look. Liu furrowed his brow while trying to decipher your words and then widened his eyes in realization. He watched the door, surprised.

“Oh.” He seemed puzzled. “How, exactly?”

“He saw us the other night. Right before closing.”

“Oh.” He repeated. “Bad timing.” Liu sighed but you could see amusement behind his eyes. It was reminiscent of those first few weeks you’d spent with him where he didn’t say what he really meant but in a playful sort of way. He’d done that all the damn time and he knew just how attractive you found it. Damn him. Of course he would think this was a little funny while you were ripping yourself apart over it.

“That and…” You tilted your head to the side and pushed your hair away from your shoulder. Then you wiped the remains of the makeup off of your neck so that he could see the damn hickey that he’d left on you. Liu’s face dropped but then he practically snorted with laughter and had to cover his mouth to hide his smile. What a brat! He cleared his throat.

“Oops.”

That was all he had to say, huh? You shoved his shoulder.

“Really, Liu? A hickey? What are you, twelve?” You let your hair fall back into place.

“I guess I got a little carried away.” He shrugged as if this were all the explanation you would need. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You know, I cannot think of a single time where you left a mark on me and it wasn’t like we had a lot of self-control back then.”

“Well, that’s not true…” He looked ready to argue with you so you rolled your eyes at him.

“A mark that anyone could see.” You stuck your tongue out at him. He gave a short nod as if to thank you for clarifying. “Now, when things are at their most complicated, Liu, you just… go for it, I guess. Big ol’ mark right on my neck for everyone to see. Thank the stars that it was Cole who noticed it and not someone else.”

“I wasn’t exactly in control of much yesterday.” Liu offered a very pitiful defense but he, again, was hiding his laughter.

“Oh, and you were so in control back then, were you?”

“Uh…” He hesitated. “Fair point.” You laughed in disbelief. “It’s nice to see you smile.” But your smile fell almost immediately. It had felt nice to joke about it, like it wasn’t weighing so heavily on you. Things were often too serious between you now. You’d once been the best of friends. “How are you feeling?” He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Of course not.

“I’m tired of you asking me how I’m feeling.”

“You collapsed earlier so I’m a little worried. That’s all. I think I get to ask.” When you offered him no further explanation of what had happened, he continued. “Overexertion, perhaps? Or something that you’re not telling me which seems more likely. You do that a lot. Especially now. There was a time where you couldn’t keep from telling me everything.” He was right about that. You’d had an instant connection and had shared truths and secrets very early on. That felt like a lifetime ago. You were a different person now.

“Liu…” You decided to let him down easy and then send him away. Today had been too much and keeping him around was dangerous. And considering how much you wanted to do something dangerous, you had to get rid of him.

“What aren’t you telling me, Y/N?”

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet.” It was true. You didn’t want to tell anyone what that man had put into your head. You weren’t ready to face it. In fact, your brain had completely stalled in processing it. The afternoon was already being blacked out.

“We don’t have time for you to brood over whatever it is. Dealing with it later can’t be the only solution you have.”

“You are just so damn determined to turn everything into a fight, aren’t you?” You snapped at him. “I didn’t force you to deal with whatever you’re dealing with. Maybe later is all I have right now.”

“We don’t have until later.”

“Does it make you feel better to pick a fight with me? Is that what it is?”

“You’re just as confrontational as I am, Y/N. Listen to the way you said that.”

“Let it go. I’ll sort it out with Raiden when we get back to China. You and I? We’re not that close anymore, Liu. Get it through your head.”

“You know that I can’t let it go.” He pushed his hair back in frustration. “Not just because you’re my friend. That night on the roof you saw something. I’m guessing you saw this. You saw what happened today.” You frowned. He was right but it didn’t mean you had to like it. “I let you have your space about what you saw on the roof and after today, I can’t keep doing that. And you don’t have to lash out at me every time you’re scared.”

“Scared?” You went from zero to annoyed immediately. Annoyed because he was right and annoyed because he was calling you out in such a tone.

“I’ve decided that’s what it is that makes you like this. Fear. Fear of change. Fear of the guilt. Fear of me. Fear of whatever it is you’re not telling anyone.”

“Sometimes I can’t stand the way that you assume you know what I’m thinking and feeling.”

“Only because you don’t tell me anything anymore. So don’t start on that. I’m not assuming anything, Y/N. It’s an observation.” He frowned but he hadn’t snapped or yelled at you. You hated that he was so levelheaded. Why couldn’t he be just as irrational as you were now? Why was it that he had gotten it together but you were still a mess? “You’re jumping down my throat because you’re uncomfortable.”

“Liu, I swear…”

“You pick fights now because it’s easier than talking. It was different when I was the one picking fights. And you called me out. So, I’m calling you out, Y/N.” He looked as if he wanted you to prove him wrong. You hated that he was right. You hated that he was making you face these things head on. It was something that Kung Lao just hadn’t done. You’d had your moments where you’d pushed each other but it was nothing like with Liu Kang. He had always pushed you. There had been a time where you’d loved that.

“You know what?” You began with an angry huff but it immediately deflated and your shoulders slumped. “I am scared.” You gave all of your attention to the tacky pattern on the carpeted floor. “I haven’t had to deal with visions in years. My arcana hasn’t drained me like this in just as long. Today was exhausting for me and my fuse is short. This is a lot. You’re right. It’s easier to fight with you than to deal with it.”

“To your credit you did duplicate nearly everyone today. Then you smashed all those things in one strike. I’ve never seen you do anything on that scale before. It was impressive.” He offered an understanding smile which you were relieved to see even out of the corner of your eye. Maybe you wouldn’t fight. “No wonder you’re a little gray.”

“I’ve never tried anything that grand before.”

“You never needed to.”

“It’s left me rattled, that’s all. Raiden will help. We figured it out back then and we’ll figure it out again.” It was probably the trauma and the guilt. Those things could weigh heavily on a person.

“We will.” He folded his hands in his lap and you sat together in silence. Liu shifted next to you. He was trouble today. And he had no idea how dangerous you were feeling, how desperately you wanted to cause some trouble and how easy it was for your brain to connect those two facts. Liu Kang could be just the trouble you needed and you were already kicking yourself for thinking it. “What aren’t you saying?”

“I’m not saying it, Liu, on purpose.” You spoke quietly so he leaned closer. His hand covered yours where you had it rested on the bed between you. Chills ran down your spine so you stiffened up. His touch was so careful, so thoughtful. You refused to shiver beneath the touch of Liu Kang.

“Y/N…” His voice was laced with concern.

“Don’t push me, Liu. Not today.” You turned toward him and leaned closer as if to dare him to do just that. Oh, how your body language betrayed you. “You have no idea how volatile I’m feeling.”

“Then talk to me. Don’t shut down.”

“Why, Liu?” You didn’t see the point. There was no way out of this for you. What did he think would happen? You were at war. What did anything matter? War with Outworld. War with wherever that horrid man had been from. War with each other. “I need to think it over. I’m not a touchy-feely-talk-about-everything person anymore and you know that.”

“No, Y/N, I don’t. We have clawed and fought our way to this point. Whether or not you like it, we’re in this together. You can’t just be in it when it’s convenient for you.”

“That’s so nasty, Liu. Don’t put it like that.”

“I already did.”

“I’m not ready to talk about it. That’s the line.”

“You are obviously hurting. Something happened and you aren’t telling me. Something prompted you to do what you did earlier. Let me be there for you. Let me comfort you.”

“I don’t want your comfort.”

“Why not?”

“You already know the reason, Liu.” His comfort came with strings. There was no such thing as no-strings-attached with Liu Kang. Even when he had said it meant nothing it had been a lie. You knew each other too well now to pretend.

“Because you’re afraid?” There was that word again. The way he said it with such disdain made you immediately angry. You gritted your teeth to keep from saying something awful. “Scared that it’ll make you weak to need comfort? Or scared that maybe you’ll do something that you clearly want to do and then have to deal with the consequences?” He moistened his lips and then swallowed hard as if to keep from saying something more. But he’d said enough.

“You just have to push and push and dig and dig until I snap, don’t you? You just can’t help yourself. Then you call me out for assuming shit and turn around and do the same thing to me, you hypocrite.” There was that bottled up anger, coming out in a bite. You’d warned him and he’d poked the bear anyway.

“You need pushing.”

“Are you getting some sick sense of purpose from this, Liu?” Your lip curled in anger. “I get it. You’re lost after losing Kung Lao and then after what happened with me and finding out I was wasted and made a mistake… now you’re…”

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel, Y/N. You’re angry. Defensive. Lashing out. But you do not get to tell me how I feel or why I’m doing what I’m doing. I’m thinking clearly for the first time since it all happened.”

“Oh, so you get to but I don’t? You used me like a verbal punching bag this last week, Liu! Maybe it’s about time you had a taste of your own damn medicine.”

“Stop.” He grabbed your arm and you tugged it but he didn’t let go. He grabbed your other arm and turned you to face him. “Just stop it, Y/N.”

You should have pulled your hand back and broken his stupid nose. But his dark eyes were full of concern, pleading with you, dripping with sincerity. Betraying your anger, your vision blurred with tears. He was right. You furrowed your brow and forced the tears away. Then you gave him a curt nod.

“Sorry.” You muttered. He shifted and moved closer. Letting go of your wrist, he placed his hand instead on your cheek. His warm fingers traced down to your jaw and then beneath it, tilting your chin back up so you would have to face him. His lips were close. They were dangerous and you wanted them. You hated yourself for wanting them.

“Don’t push me away, Y/N.” His lips brushed against yours just barely, tantalizing you with each word. He knew exactly what he was doing. Liu Kang played so damn innocent but you knew exactly what he was doing in these moments where you had gotten this close. He knew what he’d been doing back then and he knew what he was doing now. “Please.” His lips graced yours again as he spoke and then slowly engulfed them in a kiss that send sparks shooting down your spine. That soft kiss was enough to make you crumble. The tension you’d held in your every nerve faded. How could you do anything but lean into that kiss? You savored the touch of his soft lips, the bottom one still broken from the day before. The taste of them was like fire. Loose embers that had, at some point, coated his lips.

No.

No, you couldn’t do this. As much as you wanted it, this kind of trouble wasn’t the kind you would come back from twice. Hand on his chest, you pushed him back, pulling your lips away from his and just barely managing it.

“Bad idea.” You muttered against every instinct in your body.

“Why?” He grasped the wrist he still held in frustration. “You want this. I know you do.”

“That doesn’t matter, Liu.”

“It matters.” He was exasperated and you couldn’t rightly blame him. “What you want matters. What I want matters.”

“But…”

“But what?” His cool exterior finally broke.

“Don’t snap at me like that.”

He quieted you with a kiss and you laughed in surprise against the demand of his fiery lips.

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