#I mean he apologized for it and his dick is ten inches throbbing and he has anxiety

[seasononesam]

"he didn't look for dean in purgatory." okay. yay!

[coldasyou]

hate when people are like "um ACTUALLY even though zack didn't kill someone, he helped a serial killer and therefore can still be arrested!" ... skills issue

[yutaholic]

need to know (M)

PAIRING: Taeyong (NCT) + reader (female)

GENRE: stuck in quarantine; a hot mess; smut

SUMMARY: Taeyong is a great roommate and you would never do anything to jeopardize your friendship with him, but the longer you’re cooped up in the apartment together, the harder it gets to ignore what’s starting between you and him.

WARNINGS: mild language; explicit sexual content

NOTES: 3.2k words; listening to need to know by doja cat

Well, it finally happened. You overheard your roommate masturbating.

And after gasping in horror, followed by flushing with total embarrassment, you did the unthinkable. You pressed your ear to the door and kept listening. It wasn’t your proudest moment, but a few minutes later, in the privacy of your bathroom, it led to one hell of an orgasm.

After that, you could barely look at Taeyong when you were together in the shared living space. Or the kitchen. Would he drop dead of shock if you told him he had the sexiest moans you’d ever heard? How could you mention to him that you’d listened to him jack off and then fingered yourself in the shower?

The answer was you couldn’t. No way in hell. So, you kept your mouth shut.

Firstly, Taeyong didn’t like you like that. Of that you were certain. You were friends and roommates and nothing more. Second, you’d be damned if you jeopardized a fantastic living arrangement in the middle of a global pandemic.

But as that pandemic continued with no end in sight and more time was spent in isolation, frustration set in.

Then, the worst thing of all happened. Your vibrator died.

Old Faithful. Ole Reliable. She was gone. You dragged your feet out to the kitchen and dropped her into the trash bin.

“What’s wrong?” Taeyong asked curiously, seeing the pout you were sporting.

“She’s dead.”

Taeyong glanced over, catching a glimpse of the hot pink vibrator just as you closed the lid to the trash. His eyes widened and he mumbled, “Oh, I always thought that buzzing noise was your phone.”

You almost burst into laughter, covering your mouth to hide it.

Taeyong’s cheeks flushed when he realized you and he were standing beside the dead remains of your vibrator, indirectly talking about your sex life.

“I masturbate too, you know,” you said calmly.

“Too?” Taeyong stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on, Tae. We’re both adults.”

Taeyong looked one more breath away from passing out. Thanks to his upbringing, it felt disrespectful talking to a girl about this that wasn’t his intimate partner. Especially when said girl was who he thought of when he fisted his dick at night.

“Sorry,” you quickly apologized. Given the look on his face, you’d overstepped an unspoken boundary. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Forget I said anything.”

Taeyong surprised you. “No. It’s fine. I was worried about making you uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine.”

Well, with that established, Taeyong could ask the important questions. “Do you, uh, have a replacement?”

You perked up at him being less awkward about it and replied, “I’ve ordered another one, but they’re backed up and delayed. Can’t imagine why.”

Taeyong snorted.

“That just leaves the trusty dildo,” you added offhandedly.

Taeyong’s cheeks flared with heat again. He did not need to be thinking about you fucking yourself with a dildo. Was it pink too? Your roommate asked before he could stop himself, “Is it big?”

You fought back a chuckle. “It’s not huge, if that’s what you’re wondering. Do you wanna see it?”

“Your dildo?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, you asked how big it was.”

Taeyong mumbled, “The number of inches would be fine.”

“Six insertable.”

Insertable? Oh, god. Taeyong absolutely did not need to think about anything inserting inside you. Inside your pussy. Wet and throbbing and... fuck.

He swallowed the massive lump in his throat and tried to ignore the faint twitch of his cock in his pants, and deflected with humor. “So, women wanting ten inch dicks is a myth?”

“Every woman is different,” you said coolly. “I can’t handle ten. Five to seven is perfect for me.”

That was music to Taeyong’s ears. His cock twitched again. The one that was within that range when hard. Stop it, Taeyong chided. But he was already thinking with his dick when he asked, “Is it girthy?”

You watched him shift his weight. If you didn’t know any better, you would think this was turning him on a little bit. You decided to test him. “Are you sure you don’t wanna see it?” Your tone was coy.

Taeyong studied you. There was a short pause. He didn’t want to be a coward and his curiosity gave him a shove. “Show me the damn dildo.”

You turned on your heels and marched right into your room, your pulse thundering with excitement (and arousal) at the sound of his footsteps behind you. You opened the top door of your dresser, slipped your hand into the folded panties and took out a dildo.

“It’s orange,” Taeyong said, as if it weren’t obvious. And orange was an understatement. It was bright and borderline fluorescent. It would reflect headlights in traffic.

Taeyong tilted his head slightly. The damn thing even had veins. It was one of the most realistic looking fake cocks he’d ever seen (though for the record, he hadn’t seen many). Complete with balls. Whew. What a time to be alive.

“Yeah. It looks like a creamsicle,” you said cutely, giving the dildo a quick wiggle just to get a reaction out of him.

Taeyong chuckled. “Does that mean you suck on it too?”

“Of course. Throat game and all that.”

Taeyong realized too late that he was licking his lips, thinking about your lips wrapped around that fake cock. Which made him think about your lips sealing around his very real - and soon to be very hard - dick.

You loved that he was getting less and less skittish about it. You and Taeyong had always been comfortable with each other.

But by the way he was looking at you, you knew he was imagining what that mouth could do.

You cocked your head. “Do you want me to show you?”

His eyes flickered and his dick practically leapt in his pants, getting stiffer in record time. “You wanna suck my dick?”

You meant the dildo. You definitely meant the dildo. But boy oh boy, just hearing him say it made you clench your thighs.

“Yes,” you said, trying to hide your excitement. It had been so long since you got to choke on a cock.

And it had been even longer since Taeyong got a blow job. Not that he was inclined to tell you that. It was too embarrassing.

He tended to avoid them, because he came too fast. But Taeyong had a feeling he could trust you. You were so nonchalant about the whole thing. Talking about sex didn’t make you flush like he did.

No. Taeyong knew you wouldn’t pass judgement.

So, he started unfastening his jeans and you glanced down to watch, licking your lips at those veiny arms, before dropping to your knees at his feet and helping him get his dick out of his pants.

His girth surprised you at first. Honestly, you weren’t expecting him to be so thick in your grasp considering his lean build. Wrapping your hand around his half-hard cock, you let saliva spill from your lips and onto the tip, working him up with your spit so he was easier to pump in your fist.

Taeyong cursed softly, sucking in a breath through his teeth at your touch. Fuck, when was the last time a hand other than his own touched his dick?

You were out of your mind with lust. Isolation was a motherfucker. You were so horny you couldn’t form the words, so you didn’t. Your mouth watered as he grew painfully stiff in your grasp until you finally wrapped your lips around the head and sucked.

Taeyong, to your delight, moaned and the sound sent a shudder straight to your core. You already knew he was vocal and nothing made you wetter than a lover that wasn’t afraid to make noise. You liked knowing you were doing a good job and making him feel good.

You took more of him in your mouth as reward, bobbing back and forth until the head of him was in the back of your throat, and you swallowed around him for good measure.

“Fuck,” Taeyong groaned loudly, getting a handful of your hair. He needed something to hold onto.

You focused on hollowing your cheeks, working around his dick, trying to get him off. You held his hips with your hands and pressed your fingertips into his flesh, rocking him toward you.

Taeyong gave a tentative thrust into your mouth, jaw going slack at the wet squelching and gasping sounds coming from your throat where the head of his cock was buried.

He had no idea you had this side to you. You were calmly sucking him dry, barely breaking a sweat. It turned him on more than anything; you being on your knees for him. And goddamn, you had dropped to your knees so eagerly. Taeyong gathered all of your hair into a ponytail and wound the strands around his fist, gently steering your head up and down his dick.

You relaxed, handing him the reins, letting him use your mouth as he pleased. Your panties were soaked against your folds, drenched with your arousal. Your walls clenched each time he thrust into your mouth. His moans were so delicious you hummed, sending vibrations through his cock that almost made his knees buckle.

“I’m coming,” Taeyong warned breathlessly, pumping faster into your throat.

So soon, you thought, haughty as ever. You scraped your fingers down his thighs before reaching right for his balls, massaging and squeezing them. The moment you did, Taeyong choked out a moan and emptied himself down your throat, shaking and jerking, tugging on your hair so tightly that you whimpered around his length.

Taeyong withdrew from you sharply, panting for breath and blinking through the tears in his eyes. Fuck, he thought. It felt so good he almost lost his goddamn mind. The edges of his vision blurred.

Swallowing down the last of his load, you got to your feet, grinning at how disheveled he looked. You were tempted to ask him, “How was it?” but you already knew the answer.

Taeyong blushed the moment your eyes met and mumbled, “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“You were perfect,” you flirted, running a hand through your hair. Then, you reached for the orange dildo that started this whole mess and said, “If you don’t mind, me and the creamsicle are gonna bond over this real quick.”

If you didn’t do something about the throbbing ache in your core, you were going to go insane.

Taeyong gawked. Were you really not going to let him reciprocate? “I wanna do it,” he blurted out.

You arched a brow. “Do what?”

“Get you off.”

“How?”

Taeyong, at long last, realized you were toying with him and something inside him snapped. He grabbed you and spun you around, your shoulders against his chest, and started pawing at your body, sneaking his hand into your shorts and then your panties.

And when his fingers found your dripping folds, the lowest growl rumbled in his throat.

“You’re so wet,” Taeyong hissed in your ear. Holy shit. Sucking him dry did that to you? Taeyong was already calculating all the ways he would return the favor a thousand fold.

Your eyes fluttered closed as he palmed your sex, prodding two long fingers into your hole. You reached back and fisted a handful of his hair as you moaned, your walls stretching around the intrusion.

“And tight,” he said lowly, biting down on the base of your neck to keep from moaning. Taeyong sucked in a breath, thinking of how your perfect pussy would wrap around his cock and milk every drop out of him.

You arched into his chest, hips moving on their own. He fingered you languidly, heel of his hand pressing into your clit. “Fuck,” you groaned, grinding into his hand, holding onto his arms desperately.

Taeyong’s breaths were hot and heavy on your neck. With every push of his fingers into your cunt, his dick was getting hard again. He couldn’t resist a heat-seeking thrust, smacking his hips into your ass. He knew you could feel his cock, but you said nothing about it.

Though you were nice enough to bounce your ass against it.

As he fingered you, you slowly but surely fumbled at your clothes until you were naked and Taeyong mirrored you. Skin against skin. Hot and sweaty and intimate.

“I’m close… Tae…,” you whimpered, eyes winched shut.

Taeyong had never heard your voice sound so soft. He was making you feel good and that made him crazed with lust. He squeezed your breast, holding you against him as he played with your nipple, stroking his fingers in your wet pussy.

“Come,” Taeyong said in your ear, driving his digits into your sex faster. The loud squelch each time he pushed in knuckles deep made him so horny for you he couldn’t see straight. Taeyong had never wanted to get someone off this badly.

“Oh, god. Oh, fuck,” you stammered out, going rigid with release. You moaned and shuddered, grappling at his arms, trying to escape as the orgasm made you gasp for air and sent a hard tremble through your body. Taeyong didn’t let go; he trapped you to him, needing to feel your walls pulse around his fingers.

Satisfied, Taeyong finally set you free and you staggered into the dresser, bracing your hands on the edge. The insides of your thighs were slick with release and you pressed them together to soothe the pulsing in your core.

Still catching your breath, you willed yourself to face Taeyong, nervous as to what you would find. One look at the unadulterated lust in his eyes had you reeling. Your gaze fell to his cock, hard and weeping, and you reached for him without a word.

You were so far gone. Your brain went on vacation and your body took over.

Taeyong melted into your arms, letting you lead him over to your bed. There was no thought in his head except how you would feel. He palmed over your breasts, paying close attention to your stiff nipples. You were so soft to the touch that Taeyong couldn’t get enough. He wanted to drag his lips and tongue over every inch of you.

When the backs of your legs met the edge of your bed, you fell back and spread your legs invitingly, tugging Taeyong between your thighs with your hands on his hips. Taeyong stroked his cock in his fist eagerly, gathering your slick on his fingers to coat his dick. You whined with impatience, grasping him at the tip and steering him between your folds.

Taeyong hooked your knees in his elbows and arched his back as he slid inside you like silk, moaning at how you opened up for him, your walls clenching around every inch of his dick. If he didn’t know any better, Taeyong would think he fit inside you a little too good.

“Taeyong,” you sighed, face tense with pleasure. He was so thick and deep in the pit of your stomach, pushing your limits just right. You set your fingertips into his hips and rocked into him, grinding yourself onto his cock. You wanted all of it. You wanted everything he had to give.

“Fuck,” Taeyong hissed, drawing back and thrusting into you, watching himself vanish inside you, your walls fluttering around his length. How he had gone this long without pussy was a mystery. Taeyong swore he’d never felt so good in his life than he did at this moment, buried inside you.

“Don’t stop,” you chanted as he picked up the pace, jaw unhinged. “Please, don’t stop.”

Your headboard slammed against the wall at a merciless rhythm. Taeyong growled at how good you were taking it, especially when you sank your nails into his back and begged him to go harder. His usual self liked things a bit more slow and sensual, but not when the tension was this thick.

He needed to come. And so did you.

You weren’t far from it either. You were still sensitive and aroused from the first orgasm that every thrust of his cock shoved you toward another one.

“Can I finish inside?” Taeyong asked, his voice heavy and labored.

“Y-yes,” you said, nodding eagerly. You reached down and rubbed at your clit, whimpering with sensitivity. “Please make me come first.”

Taeyong smoothed his hands to your thighs and pushed them higher, almost folding you in half. He slowed a little to keep himself from the edge, but smacked his hips into yours hard and rough, arching his strokes to find that sweet spot.

Your face tensed with pleasure and you threw your head back and moaned, fisting the blankets beneath you.

There it is. Taeyong sank his teeth into his bottom lip, driving his cock into that spot, feeling you clench on him, listening to the fucking beautiful sounds you were making pitch higher and higher until you finally came undone beneath him.

The cry that left you was so primal and desperate you barely recognized it. You shook with orgasm, grabbing Taeyong’s arms and twisting away from him as he kept thrusting into your slick cunt.

But the moment you started coming back down from the high, you made sure to tell him, “Fill me up, baby.”

“Oh, fuck!” Taeyong let out a long, pained groan as he emptied his load inside you, shoving himself balls deep in your pussy to make sure not a drop was wasted.

You grunted a little when Taeyong collapsed on top of you, hiding his face in your neck. You wrapped your arms around his waist reassuringly, letting him catch his breath as you sank deeper into the mattress beneath his weight.

Taeyong finally sat up on his elbows and peered down at you, tossing the damp hair out of his eyes. “Um…,” he started unsurely. What the hell was he supposed to say after railing his roommate? “Thank you?”

You giggled. “You’re welcome.”

Taeyong’s cheeks flushed crimson. “It was okay I came inside, right?”

“I’m on the pill.”

“Okay,” he said, then his expression changed.

Your brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Taeyong really didn’t want to say anything, but it weighed on his conscience. And given he was inside you, he felt that maybe he could be honest with you. “We just had sex and… we didn’t even kiss once.”

You simpered. He was such a softie. “Do you want to kiss me?” you asked sweetly.

More than anything. Taeyong nodded, fighting a bashful smile.

You slipped your fingers into his hair and tugged him down to you, pressing your lips to his with a tenderness that made his heart spin.

Taeyong crumbled instantly, gathering you in his arms and deepening the kiss.

You grinned against his mouth. Maybe being stuck in quarantine with your roommate wasn’t so bad after all.

Copyright 2020-2024 © yutaholic (formerly zenyukhei) All rights reserved do not copy or translate without my permission!

[televisionenjoyer]

GIRL okay wait listen I know you're mad but he's like a sopping wet golden retriever and I think he might honestly kill himself. And I mean he apologized for it and his dick is ten inches throbbing and he has anxiety and panic attacks I rlly don’t think it was on purpose

[otisbdriftwood-injail]

i mean he apologized for it and his dick is ten and a half inches throbbing and he has anxiety and panic attacks and i want him to fuck me i really don’t think it was on purpose

[vadergf]

i mean he apologized for it (he didnt) and his dick is ten inches throbbing and he has anxiety and panic attacks and i want him to fuck me i really don’t think it was on purpose

[pronouncingitwang]

[ID: A tweet by sharpjects reading "I mean he apologized for it and his dick is ten inches throbbing and he has anxiety and panic attacks and I want him to fuck me I rlly don't think it was on purpose" /end ID]

stede when the crew told him that ed left them to die:

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

my boypussy is always trying to trick me into thinking that that guy is actually the Shit™️ by making my brain feed me these ideas of him being actually a perfect specimen (ie; L + Ratio + he apologized for it + his dick is ten inches throbbing + he has anxiety and panic attacks + i want him to fuck me + i don't think it was on purpose, etc.) on all accounts and giving it chemical spikes of happy juice as a means to justify its horrible, visceral reaction to him. why is my boypussy trying to prove that its aching yearning to connect with that bag of bones is valid by making my brain think he's anything but an infamously bad so-and-so douchebag.

[lucemond]

i know he was being mean to me but he apologized for it and his dick is ten inches throbbing and he's full of trauma (lucerys about aemond)

[destielgaysex]

stop being deancrit I mean he apologized for it and his dick is ten inches throbbing and he has anxiety and panic attacks and I want him to fuck me I really don't think it was on purpose

[wuntrum]

that original twitter user was so right about mr darcy...i mean he apologized for it and his dick is ten inches throbbing and he has anxiety and panic attacks and i want him to fuck me i rlly don't think it was on purpose...

[evilvarric666-archive]

"he kills nuns" okay but he apologized? And he has anxiety and panic attacks and his dick is ten inches long and throbbing and I really want him to fuck me. I know he didn't mean it.

[coldasyou]

i mean he apologized for it and his dick is ten inches throbbing and he has anxiety and panic attacks and i want him to fuck me i really don’t think it was on purpose

[the-slut-verses]

arthur after john tried to murder him for the third time that day

[ ID: White text on a dark blue background that reads "I mean he apologized for it and his dick is ten inches throbbing and he has anxiety and panic attacks and I want him to fuck me I rlly don't think it was on purpose." End ID ]

[allthebestcowgirls]

being a jonathan girl is so hard everyone is a hater like oh he did this oh he did that well i mean he apologized for it and his dick is ten inches throbbing and he has anxiety and panic attacks and i want him to fuck me i really don’t think it was on purpose

[cyraclove]

“I hit you with my car and was the only one to visit you in the hospital” with modern BotW Zelink would be amazing :') (you can choose who gets hit and who visits! it works very well both ways)

Link stared into the windows of the flower display, his eyes traversing the plethora of multicolored blooms for the hundredth time. He’d been standing there for a solid ten or fifteen minutes, the tinny muzak of the hospital’s gift shop threatening to drive him out of his mind. The furled petals of a bouquet of yellow roses shook softly as the refrigerated case’s motor kicked on, looking almost as though they were laughing at him.

He decided against those.

Swallowing hard, he absentmindedly rubbed his palms together as he took stock of his ribbon-bound options yet again.

Sweaty. Why was he so sweaty?

Just pick some, you idiot, barked a voice in his head.

“Excuse me, sir,” said a foreign female voice that startled him from his thoughts, “Do you need some help?”

He turned to see an older, brunette woman with the roundest eyeglasses he had ever seen smiling pleasantly at him, her hands clasped behind her back. ‘Alma’, her nametag read.

He shook his head, scrambling for words. “Oh, uh…no, ma’am,” he stammered, attempting a sorry excuse for a smile, “I’m just…browsing.”

“Are you looking for something specific?” She asked, peering into the cooler. “We have flowers for just about any occasion. Flowers can say a lot just on their own, you know.”

How about some that say, ‘Sorry that I hit you with my car, complete stranger,’ he thought to himself. Link chuckled uncomfortably, knowing that he was definitely going to have to lie to this woman. “I’m here to visit my, er, friend. She was…in a car accident.”

Read on AO3

Alma nodded solemnly, clucking her tongue. “Oh, how terrible. I’m very sorry to hear that. People really can be such careless drivers these days, can’t they?”

“Yes,” he said through his teeth, “they certainly can be.” His eyes were drawn to a bunch of sickeningly pink ‘It’s A Girl!’ balloons, a nearby oscillating fan causing them to bob violently every minute or so. The screech of the colliding mylar made his stomach churn, and he silently wished for death.

“Well,” Alma began, a cool burst of air escaping the display when she opened the door, “I’m sure that we can pick something perfectly lovely that’ll have your friend feeling better in no time.”

The woman pursed her lips as she surveyed the case, humming thoughtfully. She eventually gathered up a bouquet of light blue lilies, their pointed petals tipped with white.

“What do you think of these?” she asked, “We just got them in from Necluda. This variety is called the ‘Silent Princess’, I believe.”

Before he could answer, Link’s phone began to ring, the shrill tone making him jump a bit. He grinned sheepishly at Alma as he fished it from his pocket, groaning inwardly as soon as he glimpsed the screen. Tapping his thumb on the red ‘ignore’ button, he tucked it away.

“Those are great,” he replied, “I’ll take them.”  

Alma smiled brightly, motioning for him to follow her the checkout counter. “Excellent,” she chimed, “Can I put them in a vase for you?”

His phone rang again. Link felt his eye twitch.

“Uh, sure. I mean, yes, please.”

“Would you like to add anything else? We have these precious sand seal plushies that would be just ador—”

“Just the flowers will be fine, thank you,” he said, more hurriedly than he’d intended. Snatching his phone from his pocket, he turned away from the counter and held the cell to his ear.

“What do you want?” He hissed.

A jovial cackle came from the other end of the line.

“Well, if it isn’t CHU’s resident asshole.”  

Link pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he inhaled deeply. This was, decidedly, the last thing he needed right now.

“You called me, Revali,” he snapped, “Do you actually need something, or did you just want to be a dick?”

“You wound me, Link,” the other young man drawled, “Oh, no—wait. I’m not the one who’s wounded, am I?”

Link clenched his jaw, the snip of Alma’s scissors on the flowers’ stems suddenly and inordinately loud. He glanced up at the woman only to have her swiftly look away, feigning focus on her task.

“You’re quite the hot topic on campus,” he heard Revali sigh, “I’m almost envious, what with the way everyone’s got your name in their mouths.”

“Who’s talking about it?”

“Who isn’t talking about it? Link, you hit a woman with your car. In the quad, for the love of Hylia. How’d you even manage that, anyway?”

“Okay, look,” he nearly seethed, “It was not in the quad, it was the intersection next to the quad. And it was an accident! I had the right of way, I didn’t see her, and the—the walk sign wasn’t even on!”

“Was she on the crosswalk?”

Link balked as he conjured up the memory from the other day. It had all happened so fast; one minute he was putting on his turn signal, and the next a young blonde woman was sprawled out on the road in front of his car. “I mean…well, yeah, she was on the crosswalk.”

“Then she had the right of way. Pedestrians always have the right of way, genius.”

“I’m hanging up now,” he muttered, disconnecting the call to the sound of Revali’s raucous laughter in the background. His near equal on the university archery team, Revali and Link were self-proclaimed rivals; well-known ‘frenemies’ to the rest of their teammates. While Link undeniably respected him for his skill, he could also be a real pain in the ass.

Releasing a weighty sigh, he faced the counter again, only to be met with a piercing glare of disapproval from the woman standing behind it. His blood ran cold as he and Alma locked eyes, hers narrowed in wordless acknowledgment of his sin. Approaching the register, Link flipped his wallet open and removed his credit card before sliding it toward her across the grey acrylic.

“Ring up the seal.”

-

The ride up the elevator was gruelingly slow, the jarring ding! of the door opening on what seemed like every damned floor made Link’s head throb. The air inside the garishly carpeted box was stuffy and stagnant, the scent of antiseptic stinging his lungs with each inhale. He looked down at the overpriced stuffed animal in his arms and frowned, its judgmental button eyes boring into him. The sluggish chug of the ancient machinery as it whined to a stop was nauseating, jostling him just enough to make him dizzy.

He finally stepped off and onto the tenth floor, referring to the clumsy, smeared numbers written on his palm in red pen. Link wandered down a white linoleum hallway, the idle hum of incandescent lights buzzing overhead as he peered at room numbers; the water in the vase sloshed softly as he went. With the plush tucked under one arm and the flowers cradled in the other, he raised his fist to knock tentatively on a door marked 1003.  

“Come in,” responded a quiet voice from the other side. Link instinctively held his breath as he pressed down on the door handle, inching it open.

The room was cold and clinical, painted and furnished in subtle greens and dull blues. Aside from several dim wall sconces, a large westward-facing window adorned with heavy curtains was the only source of light. Pushed up against the center of the back wall was a slim hospital bed, and in it sat a woman that Link had seen only once before—unconscious on the asphalt in front of his sedan. Her eyes flickered up toward him as he entered, darkening with realization mere seconds afterward.

“What are you doing here?”

Link froze, his thoughts scrambling as both his legs and tongue refused to move. All he could do was stare at her, eyes trained on the clunky, neon-green cast that enveloped her left arm. A purply-green bruise around the size of golf ball sat just below one of her eyes, swallowing the tiny freckles that peppered her cheeks. Her bottom lip puffed out, an angry cut splitting it vertically down the middle.

She looked awful.

And she had somehow managed to be strikingly beautiful at the exact same time.

“Well, I came to, uh,” he started, his words leaving his mouth before he had time to appropriately process them, “I came to see…how you were feeling.”

The young woman scoffed, turning her head towards the window. It was then that Link noticed the sutures running along the underside of her collarbone. Guilt roiled in his stomach for the millionth time that day as she began to speak.

“Let’s see; I’ve got bruised ribs, a couple of chipped teeth, and a concussion. Oh—and my arm is broken,” she replied in a biting tone, “So, I’m not great. Thanks.”

After a moment, he took a few tentative steps nearer to her bedside. He watched her gaze gradually slide in his direction, meticulously studying his movement. Link sighed, looking down at his feet with a shake of his head. His chest felt suffocatingly tight, as though someone had his lungs trapped in an ever-tightening vise.

“Look, I know that nothing I say right now is going to make any of this less shitty,” he told her, “and I’m sure that I’m the last person that you wanted to see today. That being said, it would’ve been even shittier of me to not at least try and come apologize to you. Because I messed up, big time, and I’m really, really sorry.”

The young woman said nothing in response, absentmindedly picking at her fingernails as she considered his repentant declaration. Her brows knitted above her sea-like eyes, consternation marring her delicate features. Link’s resolve just about shattered when he saw the impending tears brimming at her waterline.

“And I brought you this seal,” he blurted out, placing the patchwork creature on the bed near her legs, “You just seemed like, uh…a seal person.”

To Link’s relieved surprise, the corner of her mouth quirked up as she looked at the stuffed animal. Picking it up and setting on her lap, a watery giggle burbled from her chest as tears slid down her cheeks. The chuckle soon morphed into a full-on laugh, a bright, contagious sound that filled the room. Unable to help himself, Link smiled, and was soon laughing with her despite not entirely knowing why.

“It’s cute,” she sniffled, wiping at her eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s really cute. Thank you.”

They smiled through the remnants of their laughter as it faded out, leaving the two in silence again. The setting sun bathed the room in rosy amber and cast fractured, pinkish shadows on the walls. Unsure of what else to do, Link set the bouquet on her curiously empty bedside table. It was then that he paused to take stock of the rest of the room, realizing that it did not resemble what he imagined the hospital room of someone who’d just been hit by a car to look like.

It was devoid of any other flowers save the ones that he had brought, and missing were cards and balloons from well-wishing friends. He furrowed his brow, and his heart sank when the most likely reason for the lack of gifts dawned on him. She must be in Central for school, he thought, and all of her friends and family were wherever home was. Or, even worse—they were around, but couldn’t be bothered to come and pay her a visit. Turning back to face her, he gestured to her plaster-clad arm.

“No one’s signed your cast,” he noted.

She gave him a queer look. “What do you mean?”

“Uh, that’s the thing to do isn’t it? Have your friends write their names on your cast? And put, uh, I don’t know…stickers on it.”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never broken an arm before,” she replied, shooting him a sly look. “I haven’t got many friends, either, I guess,” she added under her breath, face falling.

“Do you have a Sharpie?”

“Oh, um, I think I have a few in my backpack. It’s just over there, on that chair. Should be in the little side pocket.”

Link made his way over to a grey pleather armchair and unzipped the pocket in question, reaching inside to pull out several permanent markers. Returning to the bedside, he held them out to the blonde, presenting her with her choice of color; black, red, or blue. She looked up at him from beneath delicate lashes, grinning as she selected the blue one. She extended her arm, and he sat on the edge on the bed as he gingerly braced it with his free hand. After popping the cap off with his teeth, he scrawled his name on the lime-colored cast as gently as possible.

“Link,” she murmured when he’d finished, “I just realized that I didn’t even know your name until now.”

It was true. He knew her name, simply because he’d had to ask for it at the front desk, but they had never been properly introduced. Not surprising, considering the circumstances under which they came to know one another in the first place. He’d never seen her around campus before the other day, leading him to assume that they must not run in the same circles. That had to be the case, because hers was not a face that he would’ve forgotten.

“My name is Zelda,” she said, “Even though you probably know that already.”

“I do,” he admitted, “but it’s nice to officially meet you. Zelda.”

Her eyes crinkled at their corners when he reached out to lightly shake her fingers that poked out of the cast. He stood up from the bed, shooting her a quick smile before crossing the room to return the markers to her bag.

“Thank you for the flowers,” he heard her say from behind him, “Oh, and for my seal.”

“It’s the least I could do, I think,” he responded, “I mean, considering.”

“Still,” Zelda went on, “It was kind of you to come. I just…I appreciate the company. It was getting a bit lonely here.”

Link stilled at that. So, she really was alone. He almost didn’t want to believe that not even her own parents had bothered to stop by, that not a single friend had sent a card. It had to be a mistake; there was no way that such an enchanting person had no one to call on.

“The, uh, food here must not be very good, huh?” He tried.

She cocked a brow at him. “What?”

“Hospital food. It’s notoriously bad,” he clarified, attempting to mentally signal to her that he was, in fact, going somewhere with this. “If you want, I could bring you something. Later, I mean, for dinner. I think I probably owe you that, don’t you?”

It could have been the sunset, but Link swore that a blush darkened her cheeks ever so slightly when she smiled at him, nodding. “That sounds great, actually.”

“Alright, it’s a date, then,” he announced without thinking, wincing immediately afterward, “I mean, uh, sounds like a plan.”

“Here, let me put my number in your phone,” she offered, holding out her good hand. He fished it from his pocket and handed it to her, watching as she tapped in her contact info with her only her index finger. After a short discussion about what kind of food she’d like to have, they said their goodbyes with the promise of seeing one another later that evening. Link closed to door carefully behind him, glancing back into the narrow window to see Zelda admiring her flowers.

He shuffled into the elevator, wedging himself in between a group of nurses and weary-looking man with a fussy toddler on his hip. It was humid and it was loud, and anyone else might have wanted nothing more than to go home and go to bed. Link stared at Zelda’s name in his phone as the elevator made its agonizingly long descent back down to the lobby, already counting the minutes until he’d get to ride back up again.

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I adored this prompt so much, I made it its own thing on AO3. Thank you for the ask! This was so much fun!