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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

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Jungkook

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Cookies]

Jimin isn't sure anymore what to think about you and Jungkook. But maybe tonight he realizes something.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past trauma, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, some Angst in this, major fluff too, christmas!!!

Wordcount: 3.1k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

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♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jimin has no idea how to talk to you anymore.

It’s not like you became an entirely different person overnight, or as if Jungkook actively keeps him away from you- it’s just.. awkward. He’s seen you search online for jobs, something you’ve never done before, or at least you’ve never actually seemed to be interested in that. And neither has he ever wanted you to do get one- he’s making enough money for the both of you, you don’t have to provide for yourself.

But he believes that Jungkook might have something to do with it.

“jiminie?” You say, skipping towards him to put your phone down, a page opened. “can you drive me to my job interview tomorrow?” You ask, and Jimin frowns, looking at the page on your phone.

It's an email. You’ve been apparently asking for a job at a local grocery store to just help stock the shelves and such, but Jimin worries. “are you sure?” He asks, and you deflate quite a bit. “eight hours a day is a bit much to start with..” he says, and you huff, slumping over onto the kitchen counter.

“But I wanna have my own money too…” you mumble, complaining when the door opens, Yoongi entering.

“But baby you don’t have to? Just tell me how much you need and I’ll give it to you.” Jimin says, earning some attention from Yoongi who gets himself a bottle of cold coffee from the fridge.

“But then- noo, that’s not right!” You huff, tail smacking against your chair you’re sitting on. “no, I need my own for that!” You complain. “eight hours isn’t a lot! I can do that!”

“Can I look at it?” yoongi asks, and Jimin slides the phone over with a sigh. “eight hours five days a week. Have you ever worked before?” He wonders, and you sheepishly shake your head. “then eight hours might be a bit much as a start. Don’t they offer part time positions?” He asks, and you shrug.

“I’ll get less money then though..” you say disappointed, leaning back a big as your legs swing around.

“Work your way up then.” Yoongi encourages. “it’s a good job, decent pay even as part time.” He mumbles, looking through the job description. “I’d like to look over the contract before you sign it though. Just to make sure it’s all good.” He says, turning around to throw the bottle in the trash.

Jimin notices instantly how you look at Yoongi.

“There’s my princess!” Jungkook however breaks through the moment, picking you up from the chair you’re sitting on to hug you, tail wagging with excitement. He’s apparently just come home from work to pick you up- like he always does.

These days, the moment Jungkook is available, you’re gone out of sight.

Yoongi has already slowly brought up the topic of potentially changing the living situations permanently in the future- switching around so to speak, with Jungkook and you living in one house, while Jimin and Yoongi occupy the other. Of course, this wouldn’t be official due to the fact that both Jungkook and you are still hybrids and therefore legally not allowed to rent or own any land or property, but it could still work as long as the paperwork stays the way it is right now. Jimin isn’t really sure if he likes the idea.

He knows it’s inevitable, but that doesn’t mean he likes it.

Jungkook and you are gone as quickly as always, with the dog hybrid helping you wrap your scarf around your neck to keep you warm outside. He’s taking you for a bit of a date- he’s doing that a lot in fact. But especially now- with Christmas fast approaching and your love for all things sweet, it’s the perfect time to spoil you rotten.

You don’t tell him about your job hunting. You kind of want it to stay a bit of a secret.

“Do you know what you’d like as a Christmas present yet?” He wonders, warm hand holding yours as he swings them a bit, both of you walking through the busy streets full of food stalls and advertisements. You think a little, unsure.

“I don’t know.” You admit. Jimin and you always exchanged tiny presents, never truly having to think about what to gift the other.

“hm, I’ll have to think of something then.” He chuckles, squeezing your hand a second before he looks ahead again.

Back home, Jimin and Yoongi are arguing once again. “I’m just saying- what if they can’t keep the house tidy? She’s pretty messy..” jimin worries.

“Jungkook will get her to clean up, don’t worry he’s a bit chaotic but they’ll manage.” He easily defends. “jimin, I know it’s hard to let go but-“ he sighs when Jimin turns around, facing away from him. “-she’ll stay close? Literally next door.” He offers.

But it’s not enough. He wants you home.

“She’s already looking for a job. She clearly must be thinking of it too.” Yoongi says. “You can’t keep that away from her. She deserves that freedom.”

“She never worked before. She wont last.” Jimin says, sitting down again to put his head in his hands. “I don’t want her to go through that feeling of failure. She’s fine as it is- why does she suddenly want her own money? Just because Jungkook works?” He whines, and Yoongi shrugs, because he has an idea as to why you could be doing this.

“Does it really matter?” the older male says, sitting down as well. “this isn’t about the money, or the work, or the house, and you know this.” He tries to reason. “it’s about the fact that you don’t want her to leave.”

“Why can’t I have you both?” jimin softly complains. “it feels like I have to choose. Like.. I’d have to take Jungkook away from her to get her back.” He reveals his feelings, making Yoongi stay silent.

Because there’s really nothing he could say to make him feel any better.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Yoongi waits for you in the car as you return from your job interview, offering him the documents to read through. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?” yoongi asks, reading through the papers with a pair of glasses.

“Yeah, but I don’t.. want to just be lazy.” You mumble, playing with your new acrylics you got done with Jungkook. They’re Christmas themed. “Jungkook.. works a lot. And he's always so proud.” You say quietly. “I know working in a grocery store isn’t as cool as his job but..”

Yoongi looks over at you, a gentle expression on his face. “You have a lot to be proud of too.” He says, giving the documents back to you. “and even just part time is already a big thing. You’re a different category than Jungkook, remember that.”

“How do you know?” You ask, surprised.

“both simple observation-“ He smiles a bit, before he flips a page of your document. “-and the ability to read.” He chuckles, causing you to become a bit shy now.

He's right. It’s all written down right there.

“You’re right in the middle of categories. That’s got to be confusing.” He gently tells you. “Go slow and steady. They offer a training day, take it. I’ll bring you and pick you up, and then we’ll decide whether or not you’ll sign it, okay?” He asks, and you nod, watching him drive home in silence.

The moment you both step out in front of his house, you do something unique-

You hug him, an actual, full on hug, arms wrapped around him as you rub your cheek on his chest to scent him. “thanks.” You mumble, and Yoongi awkwardly pats your head, before you run off at the sight of Jungkook after giving yoongi the documents, as the dog hybrid is seen opening the front door to greet you.

“Well, that’s new.” Jimin hums. “is she growing closer to everyone but me now?” He half-jokes- though yoongi can hear some genuine insecurities.

“I think it’s simply evening out, Jimin.” Yoongi tries to explain. “see it like that. Her attention is like a bottle of water. And before, it was all just filling one cup- yours.” He says as they’re both inside the kitchen now, him taking out two glasses and a bottle of water. “But now, there’s more cups to fill. And Jungkook’s simply gets a bit more from her.. well, because it’s a special cup, you could say.” He chuckles.

“I was just as spoiled, huh.” Jimin sighs, taking the glass of water from him, staring at it.

“Pretty much. But just like her, you’ll adapt.” He gently hums, hand on his. “it’s just a bit tough right now. And hey-“ he says, leaning over the table a bit to get closer, faces only inches apart.

“-You’ve got your own special cup too, no?”

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook and you cuddle on the sofa, when he notices it again.

Sometimes, whenever you’re close like this, or he offers you just a tad bit too much physical affection, you seem to become almost drunk off of it. He’s noticed it in public too, whenever he hugs you fully and gives you a lot of kisses or even just a hand on your back running up and down a bit too often. Now, he knows that cat hybrids can get excited from a lot of physical contact- but you seem especially sensitive.

Almost as if you’re not the same category as himself.

He doesn’t really know how to ask you, considering that it might be a touchy subject- but he’s also endlessly curious. Though, right now, it’s not a very pressing issue, as you’re both in the privacy of the home he technically shares with Yoongi. These days, your things have found their way into this house as well though- from clothes in the wash, blankets on the couch, or stuffed toys in his bedroom that you wanted to show off but forgot to take back.

He can’t say he doesn’t like it.

You’re happily purring against him, rolling over onto your back, sweater rising up a bit to reveal your stomach- and he can’t help himself as he leans over you to kiss the skin, cold top of his nose making you giggle. “You’re so pretty.” He chuckles as well, moving up to kiss your lips now. You’re buzzing with emotions now, tail swiping from side to side, smacking hard against the couch now as he charges you up again.

It's then that you bite him, and he notices it.

As if he looks at you for the first time so intensely, he realizes a few things. From the more pronounced feline shape of your pupils, to the more defined sharpened teeth of yours. It doesn’t just seem like you’re a different category- you most likely are.

And yet you seem so aware? Something doesn’t make sense- but right now, it’s not the moment to ask about it.

Instead, he watches how you let go of his arm again, only some slight marks present on his skin, proving that you didn’t mean to hurt him at all- that it was just a reaction to get rid of all that excitement. It’s cute to him, most of all, so he doesn’t really care about it, happy sighing along with you as you both entangle your legs together before you cuddle up, getting ready to nap a little.

It's Jungkook’s favorite part of the day.

If he didn’t like his job so much, he’d stay home with you all day every day, and he’d never get bored of anything at all as long as you’d be there at his side. But to spoil you how you deserve it, he needs money- so it’s currently for the best to be away for seven hours and be able to offer you the best he can.

And you deserve only the best, in his opinion.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You feel ashamed when Yoongi picks you up from your first day.

You had to take breaks way more often than you thought you’d have to, it was honestly stressful despite the fact that you did nothing but stock shelves for four hours. You’re being paid- but you also feel almost defeated. You can’t see yourself doing this long term- you feel absolutely drained.

“I know I’m repeating myself, but it’s fine to admit if it’s not for you.” Yoongi tells you, who just starts at your lap. “no shame in it.”

“Why can’t I be normal?” You mumble.

“Because no one is.” Yoongi simply chuckles. “some might fit a common standard. But there is really no ‘normal’. Only average at best.” He explains.

“then I wanna be average.” You say.

“But that’s not you.” He shrugs. “and we all like you the way you are.” He offers. “Jimin mentioned to me that you don’t like Christmas. Are you upset because of that right now?” He wonders, genuinely curious.

“Christmas.. I don’t know.” You tell him. “It’s all.. a lot. Like, the lights, and the noise, and everyone’s always on edge, and nervous..” you confess.

“Its stressful.” Yoongi concludes, and you nod.

“And I also always feel bad.” You admit. “because.. Jiminie always gets me a lot of presents, but all I can give him is.. stupid stuff I made myself.” You say.

“Ah, now I get why you want to work so badly.” Yoongi clicks his tongue.

“I want to give you guys nice stuff too!” You cry out, finally letting it all out to someone. “I want to make you happy too, but I can’t do anything, and I can’t buy anything! I can only take, that’s it!” You huff angrily, ears pinned back when you notice Yoongi pulling up to a small grocery store. “Huh?” You wonder, distracted, when Yoongi runs a hand over your head- the touch able to calm you down quite a bit as you look at him.

“you and Jimin are very similar, you know?” He smiles. “You need to be more open. Don’t suffer all by yourself- getting help isn’t admitting defeat.” He says. “how about you help with chores at home, and I’ll give you some pocket money for it?”

“But then I’ll take money from you again.” You deny.

“Its not that different from working. You do something, I’ll pay you. Simple.” He shrugs.

“…OK.” You nod, determined, as he reaches over to wipe your cheeks, tears staining them that you didn’t even notice falling.

“there we go.” He grins, before driving back home with you.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

After Yoongi had informed the rest of them back home about your actual issues with the holiday season, Jungkook is now busy making sure the new Christmas lights aren’t blinking anymore but instead glowing steady, settings adjusted. He's almost done, when you rush into the house, almost tripping upstairs. “everything okay?” Jungkook calls, Jimin and Yoongi looking after you as well.

“Everything’s fine, promise!” You call down. “I just gotta wrap some stuff!!” You say, before something chatters, making Yoongi chuckle.

“So all those Years.. she didn’t hate Christmas at all?” jimin wonders.

“I mean, cats are pretty sensitive to stuff like that.” Jungkook mumbles with his head almost entirely stuck within the large Christmas tree. “and she’s a different category so- ouch!” He flinched when the pines prick him a little.

“I never thought that the difference in just seven percent is that big..” jimin shamefully sighs to himself.

“Well, you know now.” Yoongi reassures. “the past is the past. Let’s focus on the future.”

You’re downstairs a few hours later with a few colorful bandaids on your fingers from papercuts, watching the cookies in the oven bake with Jungkook hugging you. Some of them are shaped like cats, others like dogs. “can we eat them when they’re done?” You wonder.

“They’ll be hot though.” Jungkook chuckles. “you’ll burn your tongue.”

“I don’t wanna wait..” you huff.

“I’ll distract you then.” Jungkook suggests. “we can go put the presents under the tree while they cool down.” He says, letting go of you to take them out, careful not to have you get hurt.

“Okay.” You nod, fetching all the little things you wrapped admittedly a bit chaotically. Still, everyone’s proud- it’s not an easy task for you, and it’s clear that you had to take breaks multiple times in between wrapping to get your focus back on track. “mine look all crumpled up..” you pout, sitting on the floor in front of all the presents.

“You got drastically better though after the first two.” Yoongi comments. “that one there looks pretty neat.” He points to a small one, and you purr at that, before you turn. “You want some?” He offers the peeled tangerine, which you take.

“She’s warmed up to him.” Jimin notices from the sidelines, and Jungkook nods, tail wagging.

“Isn’t it great?” He says, though his tail slows when he notices Jimin’s rather somber look. “Why are you so against us loving her.?” He asks, and Jimin looks towards the dog hybrid in surprise.

“What?” He asks, caught off guard.

“I don’t know. But it feels like you’re.. upset that she’s befriending Yoongi. Or that she loves me now.” He explains.

“I’m not upset.” The older human denies. “I’m just.. scared.”

“Of what?” Jungkook calls, bewildered. “aren’t we a family now?”

A family.

Jimin hasn’t really thought of it that way- but Jungkook’s right. Yoongi and the dog hybrid aren’t taking you away, really- they’re more like an extension now, added on instead of pushed into the existing bond you two once had. The only one who pulled away had been himself.

“we all love her. In different ways.” Jungkook smiles. “the only one who’s making it weird is you.” He jokes, before he joins in, tugging on your tail playfully to get you to turn and tackle him, Yoongi sighing as he has to make sure you both don’t tumble right into the tree.

And that night, a switch had been flipped.

Jimin finally jumps over his own shadow again, helping you unwrap your presents, while also almost brought to tears when he receives yours. It’s all warm, and happy, and almost like you’re both back to normal again- but one look around him offers him a true picture of what it is now.

You both have always considered each other family-

You’re just a few more people now.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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bxtchycaprisun · 11 months

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let it be me | a. anderson ONE-SHOT

summary: you’d been avoiding your best friend for weeks, and she was determined to figure out what was wrong. she never would have guessed your absence was due to your repressed romantic feelings, which she also happened to share.

notes: fem!reader, bsf!abby, softdom!abby, porn w/ a plot, mutual pining, friends to lovers, angst but in a fluffy way, SMUT, fingering (both receiving), pussy eating (r!receiving), thigh riding, dirty talk, lots of pet names, i think that’s it?

a/n: i know this isn’t obstinate, but it’s wlw season and i’m WOMANLESS, so i needed to write some smut.

MDNI!!! sexual content. comment if you want to be added to my tag list

(named after the ray lamontagne song)

you and abby never fought.

attached at the hip from the start of elementary school, the two of you were never seen without each other. and as new friend groups came and left, you and abby always stayed inseparable.

you were so close that she’d even followed you out of state to your dream university after you’d graduated high school.

despite the feelings that emerged in your early teen years when abby had grown taller, and the impact of her various high school sports was clear on her toned arms, you never dared to express your changing perspective of her.

other than some consistent cuddling most friends would consider crossing a boundary, the lines of your friendship never thought to cross between platonic and romantic. you figured that if she were to ever return your feelings, she would have by now.

and even though you two were only friends, in a way, she was yours, and you were hers.

or at least, that’s how you saw it.

that was until you saw her out with angela, her chem partner who you’d heard her complain about dozens of times, a girl you thought she hated. and they were drinking coffee and eating pastries at the east campus cafe, you and abby’s cafe.

and though you knew your perception of your relationship was nothing but a fantasy, it almost felt like a betrayal to see her like that with someone else. but of course, you couldn’t actually be mad at her for it, nor would you explain what was making you so upset.

so you did the one thing you thought was logical, you avoided her.

knowing that she would see right through you from the beginning, and demand that you tell her what was wrong, you tried to be strategic about it.

but you couldn’t a thing past your best friend, the girl who knew you like the back to your hand.

and you had no idea what you were in for if you continued your fit.

…

it had been two weeks since you sent abby the text, and now, as she laid belly down on her crammed dorm bed, she was rereading it.

y/n: oh my god abs, i’ve got the worst week coming up everrr. hannah scheduled me like double the hours i’ve asked for and i’ve got two exams! fmlllll

abby: damn, i’m sorry bun. still room for me in that schedule of yours?

y/n: you know it abby. text you later, off to work

the conversation didn’t worry abby much initially. but looking back on it, she saw it in a different light.

you didn’t make time for her. and she was determined to know why.

abby sat up in her bed, furrowing her brows as she remembered the date. it was a wednesday.

she opened back up her texts, quickly typing out her message.

abby: what time you coming over tonight? it’s october, so we can officially make our movie nights halloween dedicated :)

she pursed her lips worriedly as she awaited your response. she had been shot down daily over the last couple of weeks, always given the same excuse. work, exams, stomach flu, etc.

abby knew something was up, she just needed one final confirmation.

y/n: shit, i totally forgot! i promised i’d take my coworkers closing shift since she opened for me. next wednesday i promise!

abby felt her heart sink, the situation becoming all too real and unavoidable. you were angry at her, and she didn’t have a clue why.

she scrambled out a message, quickly pressing send and biting the inside of her cheek as she watched the unchanging screen.

abby: are you mad at me? please tell me what i did, and i’ll fix it

she watches with a tight chest as the bubble of your response appears and disappears. and as ten minutes pass with no text back, she throws her phone down on the bed, groaning into her hands.

if it had been anyone else, she’d assume you were just busy at work. but this was you.

abby sprung up from the bed, throwing on a jacket and slipping her feet swiftly into her beat up sneakers. the sneakers you’d bought her for her 16th birthday.

she swung open the door, grabbing her things and moving swiftly down the stairs and out her dorm hall. she tucked her hands under her arms, pulling her hoodie over her head as she walked through the breezy fall air.

she rounded the familiar block and pushed into the entrance of your dorms.

and before she could think twice, she brought her fist up to your door, banging loudly with her other hand stuffed in her pocket.

“open the door!” she says sternly, already hearing your movement in the dorm.

you pull the door open with a displeased grunt, but as you recognize the rosy cheeked girl in front of you, your eyes widen.

“a-abby?” you stutter, staring up at her with a guilty expression.

she stares at you, taking in your loose sweats and braless tank. you weren’t at work, and you certainly weren’t getting ready.

after a long pause, the reality of the situation setting in, abby speaks up.

“you lied.” she murmurs, her voice low.

you cast your gaze down, stepping back to let her in silently. you knew you weren’t gonna get out of this one.

she shoves her way into your room, shutting the door loudly and pulling her hood off to look down at you disapprovingly.

“so,” she huffs, throwing her arms up and crossing them against her chest. “are you gonna tell me what’s going on with you?”

you sigh, pinching your temples. “nothings… nothings going on i just-” you begin before being cut off abruptly.

“nothings going on?” she repeats desperately, “y/n, you’ve avoided me for weeks!”

“i- i haven’t avoided you,” you reply breathlessly, stepping forward. “i’ve been really busy.”

“oh right, busy,” she scoffs, “just like how you’re so busy right now?”

you bow your head silently, avoiding her burning gaze. “i- i can explain..” you say slowly, although you sure as hell didn’t want to.

“great!” she snaps, “good, let’s hear it.” she shifts her weight back and forth on her legs, her figure now trembling with anger and desperation.

you look up at her with pleading eyes, trying to find away to avoid this conversation if you had any hope of keeping your friendship the same.

you were so disappointed with yourself you felt like you could cry. for years you’d stuffed your feelings down, terrified not just of rejection but of your own selfishness.

abby was the perfect friend, she was everything you could ask for and more, and yet your inconsiderate mind desired more. and when she didn’t give that to you, you pushed her away.

abby watched your expressions alter, staring at you with her mouth agape. “well?” she asks in a final, breathless plea.

when she doesn’t get a response, her mind jumps to the only conclusion she could think of.

“you’re… you’re seeing someone?” she whispers, her face falling.

your expression twists in confusion and frustration at her accusation, shaking your head fervently. “what? what are you talking about?”

“you are, aren’t you?” she presses on, taking a step forward.

you roll your eyes at the irony of her words. “no okay, i’m not seeing anyone,” you huff, the attitude clear in your voice. “you’re the one that’s seeing someone,” you murmur, back turned to your best friend. your eyes widen at your own words, cursing yourself for letting that slip.

you hear abby’s breath falter behind you. “what?” she asks, voice somewhat amused which annoyed the hell out of you. “did you say i’m seeing someone?”

despite knowing how childish you were being, you narrow your eyes, continuing on with your antics.

“well you are, aren’t you?” you say with a pout, tilting you chin up at her.

at this, abby laughs at you. “y/n… are you talking about angela?” she says with a smirk. “i’ve been trying to tell you about that, so much happened!” she exclaims and you nearly feel like breaking down then and there.

your expression drops, lips curling into a proper frown as you turn away from her once again. she stutters as she sees your change in demeanor.

“yeah right, i’d just love to hear all about angela,” you mutter, unable to meet her piercing blue eyes.

“no no.. it was bad, okay, it was really bad,” she chuckles, rushing over to grab your arms and turn you to face her. but as she takes in your distressed expression, abby’s mouth hangs open, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place in her mind.

“hey, hey, what is it?” she cooes, her voice softened as she brings her hand to cup the side of your face, stroking your cheek.

when you don’t respond once again, her back straightens, and she drops her hands from your skin, staring down at you in contemplation.

“you’re… you’re jealous,” she says quietly, her words laced with certainty.

you shake your head, stepping back from her with worry as she figured it out. “no, why the hell would i be jealous?” you heave, but abby doesn’t let you get away.

“because you like me,” she asserts once again, hands going for your wrists as she reaches out to you.

“hey, look at me, hey..” she brings her face close to yours, lowering to your height. your arms go limp in defeat as she holds you still, grabbing your chin gently to make you look at her.

as she studies your face, the way your eyes crease with uncertainty, she knows.

“you do..” she whispers.

the only thing you can do is drop your head in shame, praying silently that she would agree to just forget this conversation completely and return to your blissful friendship.

your murmur is nearly inaudible as a small “i’m sorry,” passes through your lips.

abby inhales sharply, taking your cheeks into your hands and lifting your head to face hers in a quick motion.

“oh sweet girl… don’t be sorry..” she breathes, brushing her thumb over your bottom lip.

she stares at you for a moment, chest heaving with her uneven breathes, contemplating the same action she’d been dreaming of for years. the action she never thought she’d get the opportunity of doing.

and just as your eyes meet hers, they flutter shut to the feeling of her lips pressing against yours.

you sigh against her, the tension easing from your muscles as she guides you gently against the door, running her hands desperately, yet hesitantly over your arms and shoulders.

the touch, the way her lips gently parted yours, her tongue rolling into your mouth with a soft hum, it was foreign, yet so painfully familiar.

this was abby. your abby. the girl who had been attached to your hip for a decade. the girl you had convinced yourself never to kiss and never confess to out of fear of ruining your perfect friendship.

and you couldn’t be happier as she did it for you.

you bring your arms around her broad shoulders, pulling her against you as your noses clashed together in a desperate kiss, her hands getting rougher and more curious, and so do yours. you tug her hoodie up over her head, touching her chilled skin from the cool fall air outside.

you feel her calloused palm reach below your shirt, grazing the soft skin on your belly, inching upward to your unclothed breast. you feel her hand suddenly stop, her mouth pulling away from yours.

“abby-” you call out her name in a slight moan, digging your fingers into her hair and tugging on her braid. you knew what she was thinking. you knew she thought she was rushing things, but you didn’t care. you’d waited so long.

“i know.. i know..” she nods, eyes nearly shut as she peers down at you, leaning in again to kiss you, slowing her rhythm and taking her time with you.

you whine into her mouth, brows furrowing as you grabbed her hand, trying to pull it towards your chest once again, and she chuckles against your lips.

“so needy,” she smiles, but with how shaky her voice is, she sounds almost hypocritical.

“neglected you for so long, huh?” she grins, kissing the corner of your mouth gently.

even though abby hadn’t had many relationships or sexual partners, mostly thanks to her hopeless pining towards you, she was undeniably more experienced than you.

you could feel the hesitance in her fingertips, the uncertainty in her eyes. knowing she didn’t want to rush you, you grab her cheek, pulling her lips away to speak.

“then don’t make me wait any longer,” you whisper, eyes looking up at her pleadingly as your thighs squeezed together, desperately trying to relieve the ache between your legs.

abby smiles, not missing a beat to crash her lips to yours once again, and this time her hand travels up your chest without hesitation. you whine as you feel her thumb brush over your nipple, and arch your back against the wall.

she dips her head down to your neck, peppering kisses along your throat, and sucking soft marks onto your skin. she groans as she hears your quiet moans, feeling like she could cum on the spot. she’d envisioned how you would sound so many times, but to actually hear it was so much better.

“you’re so fucking pretty, you know that?” she hums, large palms needing your tits as she pushes your legs apart with her knee, and slots her thigh in between them. “sound so fucking pretty”

your face is red and hot as you let out a quiet whimper in response, grabbing on to her toned stomach to pull her closer. as you feel the friction of her muscular thigh against your clothed cunt, you absentmindedly grind yourself against her.

“there you go, sweetheart,” abby praises you, hands leaving your tits to hold onto your hips. she gently guides you against her propped leg, and leaves small love bites below your ear as she whispers to you. “tell me if we’re going too fast, okay? you tell me.”

you shake your head, hips picking up their rhythm as you try to chase that sensation that slowly builds in your cunt. “not too fast, abs. i want more, please?”

normally, you would care about sounding too desperate, but since this was abby, you couldn’t hold back. even in this unfamiliar situation, you were comfortable with her. and even more importantly, you needed her so bad.

“you want more, huh baby?” she cooes, smiling ear to ear as she helps you keep up your pace. suddenly, her hands push your hips back off of her, and you whine in disappointment. before you can protest the loss of contact, she brings her hands to the hem of your tank top, pulling it off your chest in a swift motion.

her palms return to your waist, guiding you quickly against your small bed, her lips instantly connected with yours once again. she pushes you gently down, situating herself between your legs, and hooking a finger at the hem of your sweatpants.

the fabric is tugged down to your ankles in seconds, and she tosses the pants across the room with a shit eating grin. you can’t help but look up and giggle at her as she crawls on the bed to meet you, kissing up your stomach and on the fat of your chest.

“whatcha laughing about, pretty girl?” abby smirks as she sucks hickeys onto your skin. she tried her best to sound stern, but she couldn’t help but melt as she heard your laugh.

“nothing, this is just weird,” you can’t help but admit with blushed cheeks. “i just… never imagined we would be doing this..”

“oh?” abby says with faux surprise, “so you’re telling me… you didn’t imagine me doing this?” she asks mischievously as she takes on of your nipples into her mouth, sucking gently.

you’re breathing falters and you let out a small gasp, handing falling the the back of her head as she runs her tongue over your hardening nipple. “n-no i mean… i imagined it… just didn’t think we actually ever would.”

abby smiles against your skin, kissing her way down your stomach and settling between your thighs. “what would you imagine, bun?” she asks teasingly as she kisses just above your underwear. “would you picture me doing this to you? dream about my mouth on your cunt?”

with that statement, abby drops in between your legs, pressing her face against your panties and inhaling dirtily. she shakes her nose against your clothed pussy, nudging your clit deliciously. you cry out into your hand, instantly squirming from her touch.

you felt her start to kitten lick your clint through the fabric, causing you to let out an deep whine. you lift your head with hazy eyes, listening to her soft growls against you, which only made your stomach whir.

“abby pl-ease,” you say brokenly, desperately bucking your hips upward to chase the friction you needed, “stop teasing me…”

“m’not teasing…” she mumbles, her voice low as she runs her tongue flat against your underwear, applying pressure to your folds.

“a-ah, please!” you moan, feeling your cunt gush with more arousal.

“you are teasing me, you are-” you begin your protest when she suddenly yanks your panties down from your hips, and before you can process it, her hot mouth is licking a stripe from your hole to your clit.

you release a borderline pornographic moan at the sensation, eyes rolling to the back of your head. she doesn’t waist any time to start sucking at your clit with vigor, and alternating to lap up your juices.

you’re nearly shaking at this point, your chest heaving with every breath and hips twitching from every touch she gives you.

“fuck- i love the way you taste bun…” abby moans into your pussy, her hands keeping a bruising grip on your waist. “knew you’d taste good.. so fucking good…”

she already sounds pussy drunk as she flattens her tongue against your clit, helping you grind your hips against her mouth however you wanted. you continuously tried to close your legs around her head, completely overwhelmed by how good she was fucking you, but each time her palm would catch your leg, only pulling you further apart.

“gotta stop squirming, baby,” abby would growl as your thighs continued to tremble and your arms would thrash around aimlessly. you respond with an apologetic whine, already too cloudy minded to form words.

when you continue to move in her grip, she finally pushes your knees against your chest, keeping you firmly pinned with your cunt fully exposed for her.

“look at that…” abby cooes as she gives your pussy a small slap before dipping her mouth back down to your hole, lapping you up quickly.

“how many fingers you want, sweet girl?” she breaks away from your cunt to ask you breathlessly, before returning to suck at your clit.

you whimper from the added pressure of the position, head falling weakly against the pillow as you tried to clear your thoughts.

“ngh.. don’t know… o-one..?” you manage to muster, but you can’t already feel yourself tipping over the edge. anything abby gave you, you would take.

“hmm…” abby smiles against your pussy, keeping your legs pushed up with one hand while bringing the other down to slide through your folds.

you groan as you feel the tips of her fingers prodding at your hole, unconsciously pushing yourself against them. “we can do two…” she whisper as she slowly inserts her middle and ring finger into your pussy, hissing through her teeth as she feels you clench around her.

“relax baby… it’s only me,” she comforts you as she curls her fingers experimentally inside of you. you let out a soft cry, back arching against your mattress as she explores your insides.

abby watches your expression carefully, her tongue giving your clit small, stimulating licks as she searched for the spot that made you scream.

when she felt the spongy area deep in your core, and watched as you jolted against her fingers, panting out a moan, she knew she found it. she gave you one last lick, collecting the juices that leaked around her fingers on her tongue, she crawled up to your face with her fingers still deep inside of you.

her strokes were slow and gentle at first, teasing that spot with an almost unbearable pace. her eyes met yours and she positioned herself above you, but her pupils were darkened.

“i want to go harder,” she whispers, her voice low and full of lust. “can i do that, bun, can i go harder?”

you nod and quickly, grabbing onto her neck and pulling her lips against yours, moaning at the taste of yourself on her tongue. “please… so close..”

she didn’t need to hear another word before her pace turned from gentle to hammering. the air is punched out of you as she drills her fingers into your pussy, curling upward and hitting that spot with every thrust.

you were crying and moaning out her name, grabbing onto anything you could as she continued her rough assault on your hole. obscene squelches from your pussy fill the room, and your face blooms from embarrassment.

abby kisses you sweetly, in sharp contrast to the brutal pace of her fingers. you wrap your arms around her, hoping for a bit of her comfort to ground you in this moment. she immediately recognizes your need, bringing her forehead against yours as she fingered you.

“that feel good baby? yeah?” she whispers, her voice sultry as her palm rubs perfectly against your clit.

“m’gonna cum.. abby.. oh my god,” you cry out, fingernails digging into her back without even realizing. she clenched her teeth, the stinging pain only enhancing her desperation.

“that’s it sweet girl..” she mumbles, her pace unbreaking. “cum on my fucking fingers- let it out.”

without missing a beat, you feel your hearing practically go out, white hot pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm crashes down on you. you shake, mouth open in a silent moan as you ride out your high, abby’s fingers never ceasing. your final sound comes out in a shattered moan, your eyes rolled back as you grind your hips into her fingers, feeling the best high of your life.

“good girl…” abby praises, her fingers slowing down even so slightly as she watches your expression.

“good. fucking. girl.” she finishes, her pace coming to a stop as she feels you tense up from the overstimulation.

you fall against the mattress, your face completely red from your post-orgasm, and your chest heaving with every breath. abby takes her fingers out of you, shoving them into her mouth and licking them clean.

you watch her in amazement as she lowers down to your face, pressing her lips against yours gingerly. you smile against her, pulling her closer by your shoulders until she practically falling on top of you.

“y/n,” abby giggles, trying to remain propped up from her elbows. “i’m gonna crush you!”

“don’t care,” you shake your head with a wide grin.

she smiles, kissing you again, but this time with a little bit more desperation. her tongue slips past your lips, massaging the inside of your mouth.

you tug on the waist band of her sweats, looking up at her with a pout. “take ‘em off,” you whine.

abby smirks at your plea, shaking her head. “so bossy,” she mumbles, pulling down her pants and tossing them aside. you instantly spring up on your knees, smashing your lips against hers.

abby flinches a bit, startled by how quickly your fingers find their way to the waistband of her boxers. you yank them down her muscular thighs, diving your much smaller fingers between her folds as you kiss her sweetly.

“woah- baby,” abby breathes, her voice almost failing her as she grabs onto your wrist. “what’re you doing?”

“returning the favor, silly,” you grumble against her lips, smiling as you feel just how wet she is. “i think i got you a little excited,” you giggle.

“no.” abby shakes her head firmly, “you’re not the one that gets to tease me.” she tries to sound stern, but the shake in her voice didn’t go unnoticed.

it wasn’t often that abby was on the receiving side. but staring down at you, with your eyes blown wide staring at her dripping cunt, she couldn’t help but grow just as desperate. she needed this too.

you palm her aching pussy, watching in awe as she bucked her hips against you, bringing her hands up to clutch the headboard. you hold your breath to surpress your own moans at the sight, wanting to only hear her soft sighs and the dirty sounds of her wetness.

“fuck… yeah like that,” abby groans, head falling back, and her knees trembling as she stays upright for you, not even realizing how she’s furthering spreading her thighs, and grinding into your palm.

she felt herself getting red the moment she realized she was already about to cum. but the pleasure was too consuming, and she was too pent up to feel any embarrassment.

the second you slipped your middle finger into her folds, your thumb instantly finding her clit, she toppled over the edge. she released a strained moan, instantly falling against you. she props herself up on the headboard to keep up her weight, and lets her head fall into your neck. she brings one hand down to cover yours, keeping your palm in place as she practically humps your fingers. she rides out her orgasm in shuddering breathes.

you watch her in shock and awe, remaining silent as she started to come down. she pulls your hand away, burying her face further into your neck with a deep sigh.

“did you just..” you begin, and she could practically hear your smile.

“yes..” she groans, rolling her face towards yours and pressing her lips at the base of your throat.

your grin widens as you stare up at the ceiling, stroking her back carefully. abby lifts her head, and secures her arms around your waist.

in a quick movement, you are rolled on top of her, your legs intertwined. she holds you tight to her chest, kissing the top of your head affectionately. you blush as you feel the stickiness between both your legs.

“we’re a mess,” you say softly, smiling up at her.

“leave it for now,” she whispers, fingers tracing shapes on your bare back. “wanna stay like this for a minute.”

you lay there in silence, listening to each others slowing breaths. and in that moment, you knew this was what it was supposed to be all along.

abby’s words come out in a content hum, her fingers affectionately pinching at the soft fat below your ass.

“sorry for making you wait so long, sweet girl.”

“you’re forgiven.”

#abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson fic #abby anderson one shot

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contentloadingandstuff · 27 days

Text

Gym Headcanons - Lisa & Ningguang x Male!Reader

A/N: I hope you'll like this one! All the others WIPs are staring daggers at me though... CW: Nothing notable.

Going to a gym? Lisa will pass, thank you.

All the sweat and all the effort could, if she had to exert herself at all, go towards other things than gaining muscles. What would she use them for anyway? Her strength doesn't come from raw, brutish power, but rather from her brilliance and knowledge.

For Lisa, getting some gains would be a bad thing as far as her appearance is concerned. She feels great as she is - of healthy weight with some delectable fluff on her belly, thighs and butt. A girl's got to have some meat on her bones, doesn't she? It's perfect for touching and resting your weary head on those plushy thighs. She won't ruin that especially since you're far from complaining about her assets.

Even if she won't train, Lisa will care for her diet, and will keep an eye on yours too if you ask her to. She'll buy more of her natural yogurts, fruits, granola and other healthy foodstuffs. You'll be in good hands - Lisa will buy you shakes and foods with lots of protein to help build that dazzling body of yours.

If at any point you find yourself tempted to cheat, she’ll gently remind you of your goal and help you resist.

She's a vegetarian herself, but will not, to any extent of the word, force her views upon you. She just dislikes the taste of meat, especially when it's fried. The heartburn she feels after is straight up awful. Still, she won't object to making you hearty meals with all the love she has. After all, she has all the time in the world.

Although she wouldn't ever come to the gym herself, it's different with you there. Lisa will gladly tag along to keep you company whenever she can. She won't hesitate to do her research, helping you in maintaining the proper position and form as you train. Need a break? She'll pass you the water and take away the weights (according to her ability). Feeling tired or bored? Lisa will be there, keeping a conversation or reading out loud to you - this way you train both your mind and your body. She'll get you whatever help she can offer.

Is she accompanying you to gawk at your bare chest, your tensing, sweaty muscles, hear your masculine groans of exertion as you lift inhuman weights and give it your all? See you doing what men do, pushing yourself to the limit to become bigger, better, faster and stronger? Perhaps. Is that an invalid reason? Not at all.

After a certain amount of these trips, the mage will start eyeing the exercise mats with increasing curiosity. Of course she wouldn't do any actually tiring exercises, but it wouldn't hurt to stretch a little, would it? Being flexible has a few uses Lisa can't think of, most of which involve you~

The first few times would render her limbs and joints crying in pain as years of “rust” come off. It would surely leave her grumpy the next day, but it's alright - you'll do your duty and massage her pains away, won’t you?

When going at them, Lisa likes to do stretches that let her poor back get some lovely relief. Every time she begins the cobra stretches of the day, she can't help but sigh in satisfaction. The first one's the best, no doubt about that. On the other hand, those exercises that require her to lean down are the cause of her pains rather than the relief. Toe touches aren't easy, and things like forward folds are the stuff of nightmares, the mere thought of which is enough to make her spine ache.

Ningguang isn't one to work out either. She’s on a strict diet, planned out for her by the best dietitian and cooked by the best chef Mora can buy. Each of her meals has its calories counted to the letter, and - should the situation demand it - Ningguang is capable of counting them herself. Even when there's no label, she's able to judge it with impressive accuracy.

It's thanks to this attentive lifestyle that she can flaunt her wasp waist. Even if a person's worth is more in merit than appearance, impeccable beauty can go a long way too. Oftentimes just her looks alone can charm an interlocutor, leading to favorable outcomes.

Eating this little has a downside, coming in the form of low energy levels. She can push pencils all day long, but even short jogs can find her out of breath after a while. Ningguang gets tired and sore fairly easily, making it no surprise that she avoids straining herself.

She avoids training, but that doesn't mean she simply sits around looking pretty. Each of her mansions is equipped with a rich and well stocked gym for use at yours and hers leisure. Before you came they were mostly gathering dust, but your interest in training reminded her of that purchase. It was nice to see they finally had a use.

Sometimes, on a slow day, Ningguang will bring out her sport gear and join you in the training room. Most of her time she'll do stretches or use the treadmill, since these don't increase muscle mass that much - the high class canon of beauty doesn't include muscle girls, nor does she see the appeal if truth is told. She's the Tianquan, not some… sea captain.

Besides, that would be threading on your territory. Why be muscular if you're the muscle man here? If you're strong, then she'll be swift and agile. Perfectly complementary, wouldn't you say?

When it comes to date ideas, a gym date is a unique one to be sure, but she doesn't mind. It gives both of you a chance to show off your hard earned physiques and spend some quality time together. Ningguang enjoys you spotting for her, even if she won't do the exercises by herself. The attention is always appreciated.

She wouldn't admit that to anyone, but she enjoys goofing around with you. Using her as a dumbbell or doing push-ups with her casually sitting on your back is both amusing and quite flustering - getting a first hand experience of your strength never fails to get her a little red. But don't tell anyone, or else…!

Sometimes when she needs to think, Ningguang visits you and simply enjoys your presence in silence. There's something hypnotic about you going about your business and the repetitive motions of the equipment. Many times she watched you in silence, only to mutter a silent ‘got it’ before getting up and thanking you with a kiss. Each time after she left the room you were left fairly confused. Confused, but happy to be of help nonetheless.

Thanks for reading!

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roseykat · 1 year

Text

TITLE: Barb Wired Brat

WC: 7.1k

MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Minho x female reader

WARNING: minors DNI, I post NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

TAGS: BDSM, impact play, mean!Minho, pet names, spreader bars, restraints, degradation, edging, ruined orgasm, multiple orgasms, crying, swearing, unprotected sex, subspace, use of the word ‘slut’, use of a vibrator.

SUMMARY: misbehaving and being a brat doesn’t get you anywhere with Minho. So he lets you know what the consequences are...

The conviction of telling someone what to do, bullying them in bed, or manhandling them, is a challenging aspect. Being hesitant or unsure is not a road Minho has or will ever walk down when it comes to BDSM. He's a soft yet relentless inflictor of pain. Not many people are able to walk the fine line between both. Most are either too soft or too harsh.

Minho was the pot of gold you found at the end of the rainbow in terms of a romantic partner and a decent dom. Someone who knows his stuff.

Establishing roles was always important. Ideally, Minho associates himself as a somewhat dominant person. However, that doesn’t waive the occasions where he’s allowed you to take control in vanilla situations. Every now and then, he would let you handcuff him to the bed and ride him until you forget your own name.

But that’s almost as far as it goes because when it comes to BDSM, you let him take the reins. Whilst you have a fair bit of knowledge about it thanks to experience and research, Minho’s experience is more reputable.

“Edging is just teasing, no?” You asked him one day - long before either of you began to incorporate any kinks or special play into the relationship.

Minho pondered for a second, “not necessarily. They’re both the same in the sense of it being deliberate, but edging requires a lot of control on the sub's behalf. It’s not easy.”

“Hmm.”

“Why do you ask?” Minho questioned back. “Did you want to try it?”

With a nod and firm yes, edging became one of the first, recurring activities in the bedroom alongside most aspects of BDSM. It was such an effective way for Minho to assert control whenever you were consensually willing to give that to him.

But there were some days when he would need to earn that control as a result of you simply just being an absolute brat.

Your methods of acting up in bed were intentional and deliberate. In those vanilla instances, Minho could have you ride him. However, not even a minute into being on top, you would start to complain about being too tired or that your knees were getting sore.

You would then just lie on top of his body with his cock still stuffed in you until he decided to start doing all the work. In the moment, it would drive him nuts to have to flip you over and rail you into oblivion himself.

However, Minho doesn’t hold it against you because he loves you so much, but there’s only so much of your bratty behaviour that Minho can absorb. After that, he is brutal and unforgiving, which is exactly what you’re reminded of the next time you and Minho are in bed together.

With the usual pre-discussion before any scene, Minho listened to any aspects that you wanted him to cover and not to cover.

“Whatever you feel like,” you said to him.

Those words left him with a decent amount of space to incorporate what he desired, tying it in with the element of surprise.

The alignment was perfect given the fact that he wanted to put you in your place - to tune you up a bit and to remind you what happens when you decide to act up.

From there on, he wasn’t going to hold back.

“Clothes off,” Minho first instructs.

The act of stripping you himself is too personal and sensual for what he’s going for. Even before he starts to touch you, he wants to plant the idea in your head that this is a punishment and not a reward.

You know he enjoys removing each item of clothing from your body, whether it’s slow and gentle or frantically ripping them off like he’s going to die if he doesn’t fuck you.

Either way, you understood his stance even more when he didn’t bother to look at you as you undressed.

You discard your clothes onto the chair in the corner of the room then sit on the end of the bed, waiting for his next instructions.

Minho shakes his head, “on the floor.”

“The floor?” You question back in disbelief.

“Did I stutter?” He asks you.

Looking at Minho now, you can tell that he’s pissed and the scene hasn’t even started. But you can’t help but absorb how hot he looks when he gets like this in the bedroom.

“No,” you reply sheepishly. “I just thought we were on the bed because that’s where we usually do scenes.”

“No,” Minho puts it sternly once more. “What’s your colour?”

“Green,” you answer.

“Then why aren’t you on the floor already?”

Giving Minho full permission to order you around or use you as he pleases is an exciting aspect of not knowing what’s about to happen. It intensifies his natural streak of unpredictability.

Following his instruction, you hop off of the bed and kneel before him on the ground while he retrieves a couple of items he had hidden beside the bed.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with these by now,” he says, holding up two spreader bars, one in each hand.

‘Familiar’ doesn’t even come close to how well you know what they are. It was a certain type of loathing mixed with a sick enjoyment. The whole purpose of the bars is to simply keep your legs spread for the man who intends to fuck between them.

“It might be better if you lie on your stomach first so I can work my way up.”

You try to contain your questions and heed his order. A hiss leaves your mouth when the front of your body flattens over the cold, hard wooden floor with your arms slightly propping you up. Usually, scenes between you and Minho take place on a surface that provides at least the slightest amount of cushion like a bed, chair, or couch.

For you to be on the floor is almost a disregard for any source of comfort. You know it’ll probably end up hurting, but not to the point where you would have to safe word your way out of it.

Minho takes the first spreader bar and fits it just above your ankles using the pre-attached cuffs. Each one is secured tightly so that the bar now takes the ability away for you to try and bring your feet together.

The second spreader bar is fixed just below your knees. Minho doesn’t want them right over the bone of your kneecaps because it would create an unnecessary risk of injury.

At that stage, anywhere below your hips are practically immovable. There’s no chance of you being able to close your legs at any stage, but you’re still able to sit back on your heels.

“Right, now sit up for me,” Minho instructs, patting you on the arm with the back of his hand. “Might be easier that way to get into the position, otherwise it’ll hurt trying to move with these on.”

“What do you mean?” You look back at him.

“I want you face down, ass up so I can cuff your hands to the other cuffs on the spreader bar.”

Oh. It was that sort of position.

You peel yourself off the ground, propping up to walk your hands back until you’re kneeling. In the midst of preparing two other items, Minho’s gaze drops down to your tits. Your nipples had hardened stiff from resting on the cold floor.

“Cute,” he comments with a coy smile, making your face flush entirely with red. “Alright, face down, hands at your sides.”

The position feels objectively embarrassing, especially when your legs are spread and your ass is in the air. Although, that doesn’t stop you from moving for Minho, knowing he’s not in the mood for resistance.

“Good,” he says, readying the next set of restraints.

This time, he’s using individual leather cuffs with clips attached, one for each of your wrists. Your hands rest at your sides once Minho secured them. He then clips each of the wrist restraints to the outsides of the spreader bar cuffs below your knees. This way, your arms were bound to your legs, now limiting any movement from your upper body.

Once the restraints are complete, Minho moves away to get a good look at you. He watches as you test the cuffs by trying to pull away from the sides of your knees. You don’t even bother to move your legs knowing full well that it’s impossible.

Suddenly, the tips of Minho’s fingers trail over your spine. It’s ticklish, but a subtle attempt to soothe you.

“You should be feeling some discomfort, but is there any unnecessary pinching around the restraints?” He questions.

“No,” you reply clearly.

“Okay. Colour?”

“Green.”

“Right, let’s start,” Minho replies and begins to unbuckle his belt.

At first, you thought he was getting ready to fuck you, but it was far too early in the scene. There hasn’t been any foreplay or prep. It wasn’t until he folded the belt in half to use as a makeshift impact toy that you understood the message.

The black leather band wasn’t entirely that thick in width which meant it was going to sting rather than feel like a ‘thud’. Out of both sensations that you’ve experienced, the stinging can sometimes hurt to a point where it’s blinding.

Unfortunately for you, when it comes to impact play, Minho doesn’t hold back and shows very little remorse. He manages to demonstrate that with the first whip of his belt which came out of nowhere. You gasp at the sudden contact, already embracing the emulsifying heat that the first sting brings.

The next hit came from his hand, smacking hard and fast that your body involuntarily jolts.

“Fuck,” you swallow, bracing yourself for more hits.

Minho never mentioned how many you were going to take which he omitted just to torture you. If he had given you a specific number, it would eliminate the anticipation of the activity ending. To an extent, he wants you to suffer - to not know what’s coming next.

Over the same area where his hand slapped came the belt, forcing a set of curse words out of you. Heat spreads like wildfire throughout your lower half while your brain is confused by how much the impact hurts and how much you adorn it. The dilemma arises every time a hit lands hard on your ass.

With each whack or spank comes a fresh sting and a new handprint. It almost feels as if your skin is burning.

“Mhmm, fuck!” You scream out, attempting to kick your legs.

Minho clicks his tongue, “I should’ve gagged you.”

There’s nowhere for the pain to disburse except the isolated area Minho’s hand keeps making contact with. All of a sudden, he gropes one cheek and squeezes ruthlessly.

“Minho! Fuck, please, please, please!” You cry out desperately, your hands bunching into fists at your sides.

He glares down at you while you try to squirm under his grip, “what are you saying ‘please’ for? What do you want?”

“It…it hurts a lot,” you sob and groan. “I can’t…”

“Colour?”

Your brain stalls at his question. Minho trusts that if you’re uncomfortable at any stage throughout the scene, you would say either ‘yellow’ to slow down or ‘red’ to stop completely.

“Colour?” He repeats.

“I…g-green,” you convey clearly to him.

Even though you don’t see it, he’s smirking. Amidst all the pain he’s inflicting, no matter how much it hurts, deep down, you love it. Minho knows it too.

He lets out a haughty chuckle, “what a pain slut.”

His hand finally releases from your cheek and whilst you think you have time to breathe, Minho’s fingers glide between your wet folds. Up and down, he gathers your juices, deliberately teasing your pussy.

“You know how I can tell that you like it so much?” Minho asks in a soft tone.

His hand retracts, fingers slick and gleaming. He then proceeds to show just how wet you are by holding his hand up so that you can see from the angle you’re in.

That’s when you realise what the answer is…

“Because it makes you this wet. Doesn’t it?”

Too flustered and embarrassed to answer, all you could do was hum as a response. Unsatisfied with your lack of a proper answer, Minho goes back to squeezing one of your ass cheeks again making you yelp and shake.

“I didn’t catch that,” he taunts.

“Y-Yes!” You cry out, tremoring hopelessly under his grip.

“I thought as much,” he hisses and removes his hand, leaving you with more dull and dense pain to absorb. “You’ll take some more hits and if you take them well, maybe I’ll consider letting you come.”

‘Maybe’ is never a promising word, but Minho always follows through with his convictions if you behave. Today he just doesn’t seem like he wants to put up with any disobedience.

To yank you out of your thoughts, Minho's hand pelts down hard once. Even though you’re expecting each hit, your body can’t help but jolt on every single one. By the unknown number of hits you start taking, the pain is there but it’s also not.

This effect has happened before. It’s not mostly that you know when it occurs during a scene, but it’s almost always during impact play.

Minho takes advantage of the infernal masochist in you, giving you so many hits to take that it makes your brain slip. It’s his ultimate catalyst to send you flying into subspace. But he doesn’t want you there just yet.

“Oi,” he warns, narrowing his eyes down at you to take in your distant expression. “Don’t start floating now, I want you to feel everything I’m about to do to you.”

The final set of impacts was the hardest you’ve had to take. Your ass is sore, stained red and tinged purple. There’s a twisted part of Minho’s brain that relishes in looking at the work he’s made out of it.

Seeing his reddish handprints over your ass makes his cock twitch. He then blinks down to the tent in his pants and sighs. At the moment, being hard was an inconvenience.

Then again, this was all his own doing. Allowing himself to be affected by the way you react to his actions drives him insane. You take it so well that there’s no need for him to be mean.

Deep down, he wants you to act up, not listen, or be disobedient. If that were the case, it’d give him even more of an excuse to be hard and fuck you dizzy.

Regardless, he’ll still do it.

Minho folds into irrationality, “you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

You can barely look back at him but you can hear what’s going on behind you when his zipper comes down. Minho gets a hand around his dick once it’s finally free. He glides the tip between your wet folds, causing your entire body to shudder.

The thickness and length of his dick filling you out causes your brain to short circuit - so much that all you can do is hiss and moan.

“That’s it,” Minho breathes out, eyes watching his cock gradually disappear right in you. “Fucking take it all.”

With a couple of slow and steady strokes, he deliberately takes his time pushing in and dragging out, forcing you to feel every inch he gives. It’s tortuously slow but gives you some time to adjust to his length.

To test the waters a bit, Minho snaps his hips forward, driving an emphatic moan out of you. He pulls back then thrusts in again, harder, as a precursor to establish that at a consistent pace.

“Feel’s so fucking good,” Minho says through gritted teeth.

The satisfaction of it alone is enough for him to use both his hands to grope your ass. He kneads the flesh like he’s massaging it, then will suddenly squeeze so hard that it has you screaming and whining until tears prick your eyes.

His hand would relentlessly smack down on your ass every once in a while just to feel you involuntarily clench around him with each hit.

“Right…right there, yes fuck!” You cry out, fingernails digging into your palms.

Minho scoffs and rams his hips forward again in the hopes you’ll shut your mouth. The intention was clear to you, but you can’t help it when he gives it to you so well.

It’s exciting and eventful, especially when you feel like you’re about to go over the edge of an orgasm.

In that instance, Minho will usually use your face as an indicator of when you’re about to start coming. He’s used to seeing your eyes roll back or see your mouth part open even when no sound comes out. Even though your face is not in his view, he can still physically tell.

Since he’s stuffed you full with his cock, you’ve progressively gotten wetter over the minutes. Then having gone from moaning and calling out his name, you’re starting to go quiet on him.

As the knot tightening in the pit of your tummy begins to unravel, your eyes flash wide open. You suck in a large gasp of air just before you’re about to come, which is when Minho pulls out immediately.

There’s nothing for you to squeeze around as your body involuntarily convulses with zero pleasure. It slips through your fingers as you try to chase that earth-shattering feeling.

“No…no, no, wait!” You sob while your hands shake.

From behind, Minho chuckles meanly and doesn’t say a word. He slides his cock into you once more, filling you back out with very little satisfaction coupled with it. The eye rolling sensation when he’s stuffed you to the hilt is absent. Every ounce of pleasure has escaped.

Minho thrusts into you once, twice, several times before he speaks again, “that was for talking back to me earlier and thinking you could get away with it.”

Tears slowly roll down the side of your face and onto the floor. Despite this, there wasn’t a second that went by where you thought about stopping.

Crying isn’t uncommon in the bedroom. For you, it stems from being so viciously overwhelmed by pain and pleasure that your body doesn’t know how to react to the intensity. Not to mention the frustration of having a sterling orgasm ruined in a matter of seconds.

Determined to be good for Minho, you continue to let him use you until his hips start to jump out of rhythm. It’s torture for him to hold back when all he wants is to bust a hot load inside of you. He knows it’s something you ask for at any given moment the two of you start fucking.

However, Minho didn’t want to stray away from the purpose of the scene; putting you in your place. He’s not going to give you what you want until he’s satisfied that you genuinely deserve it.

As Minho rides the verge of an orgasm, he pulls out at the last second and comes over your ass with a few grunts and some swear words. It doesn’t feel nearly as good as coming inside you, but this wasn’t all about him.

For now, at least, he can admire the gorgeous mess he’s made on your skin - how it’s marked up as patches of deep red, and strings of glossy white.

“I’m going to help move you so that you’re kneeling okay?”

When Minho’s mind clears, he tucks himself back into his pants and helps lift you up with a bit of momentum. Once you’re upright and kneeling back on your heels, Minho spots your tears.

He crouches down to your level too, his face inches away from yours. He absorbs how ruined and dishevelled you are; red cheeks, tear stained face, and visibly spaced out.

“This is the only time I like seeing you cry,” Minho whispers against your wet lips.

His hand trails up to your throat, fingers ever so gently squeezing around the sides of your neck as he goes in to kiss you. You feel his tongue, and the wet heat of his mouth, all of which make you feel drunk.

Your hands want to touch him so badly, to feel his skin, muscles, everything. But the restraints on your wrists make it patently clear that you’re not allowed.

If Minho could hear your thoughts, he’d say you were being greedy. He’s already letting you be kissed by him and that’s more than enough based on what he thinks you deserve.

But out of nowhere, he rises from the floor, leaving you to try and chase after his lips. He walks over to the edge of the bed and returns with a vibrator.

Seeing that toy in his hand already has you whimpering in a way that makes him grin. You can see where this is going and it brings back the many sexual adventures he’s had with you whenever he incorporates some sort of apparatus that can make you cum your brains out.

“You’re dripping on the floor,” Minho alludes to the space between your legs and the ground.

Not that you can see it, but you undoubtedly believe him.

Usually, your first instinct is to cower and blush at an embarrassing remark like that. But it has you flustered for the wrong reasons and it’s all because Minho has shoved you into a frame of mind where you’ve lost all shame and dignity.

You’re dripping onto the floor because you can’t help it. All the welcoming pain he’s inflicted so far has fashioned into an uncontrollable reaction. That reaction is something Minho feeds off of. It makes him manic seeing the sweet results of his actions.

“This is what’s going to happen,” he starts, ignoring his excited nerves on the inside. “You’re going to tell me when you’re about to come. If you don’t, the scene ends. Got it?”

Even as spaced out as you were, his instructions were very simple. But it was a lot easier said than done and the unsure look on your face proved it.

The problem was that you could barely keep yourself from not being able to come when Minho was fucking you. Being edged with a vibrator will require just as much self-restraint if not more.

“Wait, I-I don’t know if I can,” you mumble to him, barely able to blink.

“Is that so?” He asks, looking you dead straight in the eye. “Colour?”

There he goes again - reminding you with a simple question that no matter how many times you contradict yourself, Minho knows your best interests. At the same time, he needs to ask just in case you actually can’t continue the rest of the scene.

“Green.”

He chuckles to himself and goes to sit cross-legged in front of you, “stop doubting yourself kitten.”

Your breathing has already doubled in pace and gets even quicker when Minho turns the vibrator on and holds it against your clit. Your body seizes instantly on its impact, mouth pursed together to try and suppress your moans.

“There you go,” Minho exasperates breathily, watching your contorted expressions. “Look at that. I bet that feels good doesn’t it?”

You nod. It’s all you can do. The task of trying not to come takes up far more of your attention than attempting to answer a basic question. Minho understands that, but he’s not compassionate enough today to let it slide.

So he cranks up the setting on the vibrator to the highest level. Your mouth finally pries open, whimpering Minho’s name repeatedly and panting like you’re about to run out of air. The speed of the toy makes your hips jolt and buck even though there’s no room to fully move.

“Gonna…I’m gonna come,” you warn, eyes fluttering as the sensation between your legs intensifies.

Minho chooses not to listen and continues to hold the vibrator against your clit.

“P-Please, I’m almost...”

Your head tips back, chest heaving as your orgasm approaches before its highest peak.

“Minho please!”

Within a split second, the vibrator is gone and your body startles from the sudden lack of pleasure. Still profoundly dishevelled, your head lifts back up to glare right into Minho’s eyes.

“What?” He asks. “Did you really think I was going to let you cum? I don’t think you deserve to at this point.”

Even though Minho wasn’t explicitly clear that he was going to do it, you knew that was the moment when he started an edging session. In his mind, overstimulation would be counterproductive for you – a person who has been misbehaving a lot and shouldn’t get what they want for the time being.

Before going back in with the vibrator, Minho begins to extend your limits. He reaches out for your nipple, pinching and rolling the nub between his finger and thumb. It makes you want to twist and turn, but with your hands bound to the sides of your knees, it’s difficult to get the movement you want.

Absorbing the contorted expressions on your face, he bathes in the sounds that come from your mouth. How your moans sound so aspirated and breathy then loud when the vibrator comes in contact with you for the second time.

There’s no preparation for the assault that toy has.

Your eyes squeeze shut in determination to eliminate any sort of pleasure inside you before it starts. Diverting an orgasm is no walk in the park and it gradually becomes more difficult. The first ‘edge’ Minho bought you to already chipped away at a significant portion of your energy. It was almost hard to grasp what you were going to be left with by the time he’s done with you.

As the vibrations rattle through the most sensitive parts of your body, Minho still doesn’t let up on your nipples, only switching to the other for more attention.

“You’re gonna be good and tell me when you’re about to come, right?” Minho assumes. “Don’t wanna disappoint me do you?”

You shake your head and swallow, “n-no.”

Seeing you become more obedient makes him smirk but also melt inside. It’s compelling enough to make him release your nipple from his fingers and use that hand to slink behind your neck.

His face closes the space towards yours, lips reaching you first. It was an odd contrast to the fact that he was being mean and had you bent over, spanked, and fucked.

Now he was being gentle.

Although, it’s no shock or surprise at how sensual Minho can be. It was the thin line between the two main shades of his personality at play.

Despite his soft touch and his tongue in your mouth, the pleasure growing inside was hard to ignore. Even though you wanted to keep kissing him, you were also under the instruction to tell him when you were about to come.

Being wordless wasn’t a hindrance for the man who’s fucked you an undisclosed amount of times. He knows your body - particularly the responses it gives when you’re being worked up.

Your breathing is jumpy and staggered. You’re moaning into and against his mouth, so much that he can feel the vibrations throughout his upper body. Just as your head tips back again, Minho catches your bottom lip and bites down.

Another loud moan escapes from your mouth just as you were about to come until Minho rips the vibrator away and leaves you shuddering.

“That was close wasn’t it?” He asks you with a small smile. His words almost made his soft and gentle nature look like a complete sham.

You jolt once more at the feel of the vibrator press once more to your sensitive clit. Already at this point, your body is so overstimulated that you think it’s impossible to build more pleasure. Every nerve inside you is on end as the euphoria escalates higher this time - greater than what you’ve felt at any point tonight.

The third ‘edge’ turned into the seventh, which turned into the twelfth, and landed you around in the twenties. Somewhere along the way, you had given up full control to Minho.

He had succeeded in getting you to a point where you would begin to subconsciously obey him. Each time he would hold the vibrator to your clit and build you up to an orgasm, all you were capable of doing was muttering the word ‘coming’. After that, he’d pull his hand away, praise you, and wait until that orgasm dissolved before going back in.

It was repetitive - to the extent that Minho gave up tallying the many times he was edging you.

“You’re doing good for me,” he praises with a satisfied smile. “You like it so much don’t you?”

Regardless of whether he was going to extract an answer out of you at this stage, he can’t help but feel excited when you’re unable to speak. It means you’re past the verge of mindlessness - all the control you sought to harbour from him was wilfully given up.

To add to the torture, Minho would switch up the speed of vibrations every now and then. If he used the highest setting, your orgasm would build quicker before he pulls away. If he used the lowest setting, it would take longer to reach and harder to chase.

Both of these methods have you completely dazed and turned your brain into liquid. You make inaudible noises, ones that Minho finds interesting yet adorable. He’s completely stripped you back to an incoherent mess.

“Do you want to come?” Minho asks, watching you look up at him with tears in your eyes and a glazed expression. “Should I even let you come?”

Sentences are too complex for you let alone to be able to comprehend the question as your head lolls to the side. It’s impossible to simply answer while simultaneously trying to restrict yourself from coming. The latter is the one that sucks the most energy out of you and has been since Minho pulled that vibrator out.

But he sits on the idea of wanting to be merciful or absolutely brutal by not allowing you to come. Even though he was pushing the thirty minute mark of edging you to the point where you can’t speak or think, he was only half satisfied that you deserved it.

“You’ve been acting up quite a bit lately,” Minho reminds you. “Always getting me to do the work in bed, misbehaving, talking back to me…”

Your jaw is slack, still, no words come out. Instead, Minho continues to do all the talking while you try not to come without his command.

“I think you need to learn another lesson. If I don’t give you what you want, you’ll be good. But there’s always the risk that you’ll play up again,” Minho says, turning the vibrators’ speed up one notch. “Still, you’ve been good to me this evening and I want to reward your behaviour. What do you think I should do?”

“M-Min…I’m…”

They’re the only two words you’ve been able to say within the past half an hour. Minho knows you’re on the verge of coming if you start talking, and yet, he doesn’t do anything to stop you. He wants to test you, to assess how good you really are to him.

Before you start fumbling with more words again, your orgasm approaches its peak and by that time, it’s too late. Minho doesn’t even say anything about allowing you to come, you just do it regardless.

A couple of more tears roll down your face when you feel like you’re about to burst from the pressure in the pit of your stomach. None of what had been initiated an hour ago was anything short of overwhelming and all it does is continuously building aggressively.

Unable to keep up with the toy that’s pressed firmly against your clit, all you do is succumb to an out of body experience. Your head tips forward, chest heaving as your legs begin to shake in the restraints.

Minho lets out a conceited chuckle of disbelief, watching you cum over the vibrator. Whilst he appears rather annoyed that you didn’t listen to him, he cannot deny how amazing it is to see you orgasm so incredibly hard.

He revels while watching you lose your mind to the toy. This time, the ball of pleasure that has been growing exponentially doesn’t stop for anything. It makes for a blinding orgasm.

Spreading in surges and surges of pleasure, your body tremors at each one. Minho watches you while he’s completely dazed by how hard you’re actually coming. He can only stare as your orgasm shreds throughout every cell in your body until you’ve gone limp.

“Well, guess that answered that then,” he scoffs rather condescendingly then turns the vibrator off for the first time.

Since the low hum and buzz of the toy is no longer in his ears, Minho can now fully hear all of the tiny noises you’ve been making. He can hear you breathing heavily in staggers, the small, strained whines, and yet the one thing he can’t hear is you struggling against the restraints anymore.

You’ve just completely given up on trying to break free as if you have genuinely begun to enjoy the idea of not being able to move as you please.

That thought alone sends a reminder down to Minho’s now fully hard dick again. Now that you’ve unintentionally made him hard again, he wants to get his use out of this session to cum once more. This time, finally, inside of you.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” Minho growls in your ear.

Before you know it, he’s lowering you carefully back down into the first position he secured you in, with your face down on the floor and your ass in the air.

The mess he made on you earlier was still there. Seeing it makes him sick with excitement now knowing he can do the same but inside of you. With that, Minho then frees his cock once more, rubbing the tip in between your wet folds. He pushes into your hole with ease, slicking his dick faster than he could imagine.

A sigh of relief leaves his mouth when he feels that velvety heat enclosed around him. It’s only come to his attention now just how achingly hard he is. As for you, you’re just floating absentmindedly, content with a warm fuzzy feeling inside of you as you swim around in a post-orgasmic haze.

When Minho begins to fuck you again, his ears drink up the wet sounds from in between your legs and the small whines that leave your mouth. He realises how much he enjoys it when his nails start digging into the flesh of your hips, screwing his eyes shut as he tries not to come early.

Minho just wants to be buried inside of you forever.

To top things off for him, he can feel you clenching around him. He knows for a fact that it’s not intentional because you’re in no headspace to even think right now. It then dawns on him that you’re having another orgasm.

“You’re coming again?” Minho questions in a degrading tone of voice.

Still, you can’t answer.

He chuckles deviously, almost like he’s gone mad as he keeps fucking you hard from behind, “such a slut. I already made you come once and now you’re going to come again?

Without giving a verbal answer, Minho can feel, see, and hear your actual response. The result of his cock repeatedly hitting the same sweet spot inside you has your eyes rolling back and ultimately makes you squirt.

Trembling uncontrollably once more, your walls are spasming around Minho’s dick while dripping constantly on the wooden floor.

“Holy shit,” he exasperates. “Baby.”

It’s the first time he’s made you squirt, and it takes him so much by surprise that he has to slide out of you and see the mess he helped you create. If Minho had his phone on him, he would’ve - without a doubt, taken a photo. Unfortunately, he was only able to do with a mental image, one that’s now permanently ingrained in his brain.

Rabid with excitement, Minho now knows what he needs to do next time.

He loses sight of his authority for a split second after getting too caught up in what just happened. With a shaky hand, he realigns himself with your entrance and glides back in effortlessly with a string of moans that leave his mouth.

“So fucking good for me,” Minho rasps, snapping his forward.

He gets himself into a steady, forceful rhythm and tries to drag out fucking you for as long as he can hold off. It’s difficult for him to not come when you’re so pliant and fucked out. Before he knows it, Minho is clawing into your skin again, coming hard that it causes his vision go slightly splotchy.

For a few moments, he slows his thrusts and allows his breathing to steady. To help ease himself back to earth, he continues to drag his cock in and out of your wet pussy. It was mind blowing for him just as it was for you. Minho then pulls out and observes you one final time.

The wet mess on the floor, on your ass, the way that you’re still dripping wet, the redness over your skin from his hands and belt earlier, how you’re bound on the floor - it could all easily make him hard a third time.

He almost feels high as a result, but he’s also reminded that he needs to move quickly - to get you out of your restraints. Minho unhooks all the cuffs and swiftly takes away the spreader bars before bringing you between his legs as you both rest against the bed, still on the floor.

The mess nearby doesn’t bother him at this stage. Right now, his focus is solely on you. Ensuring that you know he’s there even when you’re on cloud nine still is important. It’s the least he can do to ensure that you don’t go plummeting into subdrop - the worst possible outcome to subspace.

Coming down from two orgasms on such a large scale can be jarring if there’s no aftercare.

“Good girl,” Minho whispers in your ear, hoping that it’ll reach your mind that’s floating elsewhere. “You did so well for me baby.”

His arms have wrapped themselves around your body as he soothes you with gentle words of praise. From the mirror across the room, he can see how spaced out you look now. The frontal view of your body grants Minho to see just how yielding you are.

How vulnerable your body is to him right now.

His right hand lies across your abdomen while his left hand slowly makes its way down to your oversensitive clit. A small, strained whine escapes your mouth and like some sort of conditioned behaviour, your legs seem to slowly pry themselves further open.

Minho smirks. He seriously can’t get enough of you. If he hadn’t of fucked you already, he would’ve come untouched just seeing you so obedient.

“The things you do to me,” he whispers against the back of your shoulder.

Minho watches his fingers in the mirror and begins to wonder if they have minds of their own. They travel down slightly past your sensitive clit to the cum that has been leaking out of you. The pads of his fingers collect what’s of it, only to bring it back up to your clit, caressing and massaging around and over the nub.

Your reactions are subtle but effective for Minho to pick up on. He can tell that his fingers must feel different in comparison to the vibrator. They’re more attentive and soft which makes the sensation between your legs even greater and gets you over the edge quicker than ever.

“That’s it baby,” Minho encourages. “One more for me.”

His eyes never leave the mirror - never leave from where his fingers are until he makes you tremble and come once more. Moans continue to lodge in your throat as Minho helps you ride out your high until every ounce of energy within you is spent.

Within the next twenty minutes, you are blissfully floating. It takes you a while to come down from such an intense session that by the end of it, you're left wondering how you have damp hair, a fresh pair of comfy clothes on, and now back on the bed.

Minho, who is sitting on the edge of the mattress, has been rubbing moisturising lotion onto your legs - especiallywhere your knees are. Next to him on the bed is a towel with a couple of ice packs for what you only can assume is for the tenderness that has started to emerge.

The aching around those areas was a reminder that you spent quite some time on the ground. Not to mention the restraints…

“Hi baby,” Minho says quietly, studying your tired face.

“Hi,” You reply, too exhausted to even move. “How long was I out for?”

He twists the lid back on the tub of lotion and sets it on the bedside table. He then grabs the towel and places it over both of your knees followed by an ice pack on each one.

“Not long. Ten minutes after we showered. You can go back to sleep if you want?” He replies.

You shake your head, “no it’s okay, I just want to see you.”

He smiles softly then scoots up the bed a bit to get closer to you, “how are you feeling?”

“Mm, good,” you hum. “A bit like jelly though.”

Minho chuckles, feeling a bit of guilt there, “yeah I’m not surprised. That would’ve taken a lot out of you.”

“I loved every bit of it though,” you reassure him.

The last thing you want is to place doubt in his mind about what he’s doing in the bedroom. Then again, Minho trusts you enough for you to go to him if there’s something you’re not comfortable with, and vice versa.

“Judging by how hard you actually came, I’m not surprised,” he says, which earns him a playful smack to his arm by you.

“Quiet,” you reply sarcastically. “I don’t want to hear that.”

“It was hot,” he replies, ignoring what you think about it. “So hot that I wanted to record it.”

“Maybe you should’ve…”

“We’ll discuss it next time,” Minho says then leans and meets your lips. He kisses you so softly and tenderly before coming back up. “For now, just rest as much as you need to. I’m ordering dinner then we can eat together while watching a movie.”

“Sounds perfect.”

A/N: Omg what is thisssss. Sometimes I surprise myself with some of the stuff that I wrote, but anyway, please enjoy. I really want to write another piece similar to this except the reader goes into subdrop. I’m not too sure if anyone will be interested in that but if anyone is, please let me know and I’ll write something up lol

Note: I strictly do not permit any copying, editing, rewriting or remakes of my work nor do I allow them to be uploaded to any other site or social media platform. Tumblr is the only site I use to post this type of content so if you see it elsewhere, then it has been stolen.

#stray kids smut #lee know smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #smut stray kids #bang chan smut #lee know x reader #han smut #felix smut #changbin smut #in smut #seungmin smut #roseywrites

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 11 months

Note

Hiccup x reader where Hiccup is stressed over being the chief of Berk and is extra clingy to reader?

Better Left Unsaid

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Reader

Words: 14,022

You wondered if you would ever be able to touch the sky again. You don’t talk about it.

Tags: Httyd 2, Comfort, reconnection, resolution, suggestive content, Gender Neutral reader, reclusive reader (ish), reserved reader (ish), disappointment, rebound, oneshot, ambiguous ending

“It-It’s just too much,” Hiccup stuttered angrily, hushed. He shifted his arms, gesturing lightly but frustratedly with the mug in his shand, leaning against the wall. The water inside sloshed back and forth as he settled the mug down on the table with a thin clacking noise, pushing off against the wall.

It was silent, the empty dark of night all-consuming in a way that blocked everything else out. Even with passion in your voice, you probably still couldn’t speak louder than a gritty whisper.

The Haddock house was empty and dark, the fireplace in the center of the hut untouched as it has been for many nights since the passing of Stoick the Vast. Your basket sat abandoned by the door, washed over by a sheet of blue shadow.

“Maybe you need a system,” You suggested awkwardly, caught off guard as hiccup paced, too taken by his own trouble to care for much else. This wasn’t how you’d imagined any conversation between the two of you to go.

You saw each other around, of course, but events like those usually consisted of turned cheeks. It had been so long since you last talked, and it hadn’t quite ended on good terms.

“My Dad didn’t-” Limbre fingers struggled against the straps and buckles of his armor, inelegant and terse with frustration, Hiccup’s cinched brows and an angry grimace conveying everything you needed to know.

Usually nothing short of a stupid idea from his own head would get him out of it. Or a hard hit. You did your best to give him counsel anyways, despite your unsurety. He’d probably just been swept away by it all, falling back into old habits quickly.

He would snap out of it soon enough, though if he decided just as you did that you’d rather not address anything at all, you would certainly not complain.

“Your Dad didn’t have to deal with so many trappers or dragons.” You shook your head. You had to admit that you were somewhat disconnected from the matter. The two of you hadn’t been close for years, and you kept to yourself pretty closely. This whole situation was an accident, more of a wrong place, wrong time then anything done on purpose, per se.

You moved around the table, nearly stumbling as you went, suppressing a shiver as you shifted through the cold room, like an empty void. You wondered how Hiccup dealt with it.

You snorted.

Helping him out felt like crossing some sort of invisible boundary you usually avoided like the plague. But, you had pity on him and the dark circles underlining his eyes. You didn’t think he’d notice. It wasn’t something you worried much about, anyways, not since you were in your teens. That was a sore spot you’d rather not touch on.

“Isn’t a Chief supposed to be able to handle everything on his own? If I do that, then wouldn’t…” Hiccup trailed off into a contemplative, moody silence, glaring off to the side as you did your best to pull his straps free. You weren’t much better with them than he was now, but it was workable, “I’m supposed to be- Wouldn’t that prove that I’m not-…”

He looked somewhat like his father, with that expression, though the skinny frame and his wild, scruffy hair offset it somewhat.

His father was large and tough, but something you noticed about Stoick, even from a distance, was that he was stressed. And angry, all the time. He knew what to do and when to do it but couldn’t handle a lot. Not always. You could imagine the veins bulging from his forehead now, even from beyond the grave.

You weren’t sure Hiccup was ever supposed to be like him. If he was supposed to even try. Him being Chief wasn’t ever something you imagined even as kids, just as he probably never imagined it for himself, but you were sure if he pulled something together it might be manageable.

“You’ve always been enough for whatever you wanted,” You muttered, “You’ve been enough since before the dragons and you are enough now as Chief. Coming up with some sort of system isn’t... bad. You Dad had a system,” You winced, watching his expression carefully as you brought up his Dad, though you were sure that not much would reach him when he was in this state, “Your father had a second-in-command for a reason, you know.”

“My inventions, they’re not-” Hiccup groaned. You heard the unsaid question. But wouldn’t that be cheating?

“They’re just as a part of you as anything else.” You repeated the age-old adage, “It doesn’t have to be in invention, though, if you don’t want it to be. Just… Establish a chain of command, or something.”

Hiccup threw his head back, scrubbing his face with his hands. Then he looked back at you, as if he was just then realizing who he was talking to.

“The island probably won’t implode without you. They’re Vikings, they need a little lead, just trust me.”

Sometimes you were fine, and sometimes your disappointment followed you like a sheet over your eyes, something buzzing constantly around the periphery of your vision, bits stuck to the back of your boots like poorly spun wool.

You crunched through the grass on the far end of the bridge leading up to the village, nerves coiling in your guts briefly before you brushed them away.

Such was the life of a recluse.

You squinted as you marched across large wooden planks, confident in the sturdiness of the bring just as you were unconfident in what lay before you, a figure sitting with their head down on one of the large logs that made up the railing.

It was a common sight for people to sit by the edge, usually teens, usually with friends, a stolen jug of mead or two in hand on dark nights. It was also a good spot for contemplation. You’d use it many times, especially on rainy, foggy days. It made quite the atmosphere.

However, during the broad daylight, people usually tended to just come and go. They didn’t spend much longer there than they had to. To be honest, most people had dragons. There were many more interesting places up in the sky. You didn’t get that. You dragon, it left a long time ago.

You shifted your basket of foraged berries and sticks and bits under your arm and grimaced confusedly as you neared the figure, closely examining dark gray armor and a worn, untucked green undershirt.

“Hello, Chief,” You said plaintively, after you’d spent a few seconds stopped being him, looking down on hunched shoulders and frazzled flyaways.

He groaned, “Please don’t call me that.”

You snorted, gently resting your basket on the ground, making sure all the latches were secured tight over the lid. It got pretty windy up there, wouldn’t do you any good to lose all of your day’s hard work, “What brings you over to my small neck of the woods?”

You shrugged at his silence, relaxing the the hand on your hip before swinging your legs over the same log and planting yourself firmly to his left

“I can’t do this,” Hiccup mumbled exhaustively, without looking up.

You stuck out your tongue, leaning back onto your hands, which pressed against the warm surface of the wood pleasantly. It took you a moment to remember that you should probably come up with a follow-up question, “Why?”

You were a bit rusty.

“I can’t do this,” Hiccup turned briefly to give you a sour look. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Okay,” You shrugged your shoulders, ever the loyal confidant.

So you were going the whole ‘ignore the Gronkle in the room,’ route. You could deal with that.

You wondered where Toothless was. He’d taken to his Alpha statues pretty well, as in, he did nothing to enforce it at all, so there was nothing for him to worry about. Come to think about it, it really was just Hiccup, managing both Vikings and Dragons.

Hiccup shot a look at you again, perhaps asking himself what was wrong with you. Below you, the sea rushed and lulled, storming over the jagged rocks below. You watched it like a snake on a mouse, hypnotic in its movements.

“It’s not. There’s so much to keep track of and,” Hiccup started, continuing on, shaking his head, “Everyone’s always got something- this isn’t like- it’s not like my Dad’s just on a vacation. He’s dead. I’ve never taken care of something this long-term. And Astrid-... I’m not so great at the whole ‘commanding’ thing.”

The split with Astrid was rough on him, you knew. He didn’t talk about it much at all, but everyone could tell it was weighing down on him. People talked, and you didn’t necessarily have to be a part of the conversation to overhear.

You hummed sympathetically, as a group of people started to gather on one end of the bridge. You weren’t sure if Hiccup had noticed it yet, though you were sure if he had he was ignoring it for the time being.

“You don’t have to command. You just have to be able to direct,” Most people sort of expected Astrid to be there for the whole commanding thing, but honestly you resented the idea, despite the accuracy of it in practice, “I know a guy who would be willing to handle the stables for a day. Johannes, you remember him, right?”

They, meaning Hiccup and Astrid, were both busy with their own responsibilities, so you didn’t think they had a lot of time to talk it out. It was strange. For the longest time, second to Toothless, of course, she’d been his best friend. The thought sent a sharp, bitter jab up your spine.

You rolled your eyes anyways. A lot of Vikings would give a lot to be able to be in charge of something. As you grew older, you started to realize that Stoick the Vast had a hand in everything. Maybe too much of a hand- that man was stretched thin, “The whole commanding, intimidating bit is Toothless’s job now.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup choked out.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed a pack of Vikings already halfway to you, encroaching from the Berk side of the bridge, arms waving in the air. You looked away for a moment with furrowed brows, beginning to scoot back with high caution, trying your hardest to not make any sudden moves.

“When’s the last time you did something for yourself?” You asked, “Gone to the forge, or flown out?”

“I have no idea,” Hiccup wheezed.

“When’s your next lull? It’s a lot easier for me to say it than for you to do it, but you should probably, you know, take a step back,” You suggested.

“Never,” Hiccup gestured with his hand, other arm pressed against his back, “This is it, for the rest of my life.”

You grimaced, shrugging pityingly as you heard the distant shout of his name, and watched Hiccup crumple in on himself again as the two of you met eyes.

You were a bit surprised by how easy conversation flowed between you, though you were sure whether you wanted to run or just shy away from it. You weren’t sure if you felt anything for it at all.

You shook your head, deciding very astutely on the running bit, swinging back onto solid ground and gently lifting up your shoulders. You hooked your fingers under the edge of your basket and pulled it into your arms, settling it smoothly in hand.

“Well, when your life’s over, I’ll be here. We’ll, ah, figure it out then, I guess.”

You lifted your tunic from your back, tugging until you were able to twist it over your head.

As you did, you eyed the portraits of the wives taken off and replaced, hung lower on the wall and decorated with each of their assets. You’d found them lying around and it felt wrong not to return them to their original owners somehow. They were usually separated from the rest of your dwelling by a thin, old moth-eaten curtain.

You were sure the wives were all just as ugly and unpleasant as Mildew himself, but there was something off about taking them down especially when you kept everything else close to the same.

You patched the hole in the roof with old ship’s sails and mismatched tiles, just enough to keep your cabin barely above freezing in the wintertime.

You shook your clothes onto the floor as you changed, mindful not to look down at any of the scars in the darkness of your hut.

You were probably supposed to feel proud. They were trophies of battle. Most other Vikings would wear them proudly, displayed like an honor bestowed onto them. They didn’t particularly bother you, though it never bode well to linger on reminders of things long since finished.

If only they knew how you’d gotten them.

You didn’t earn them through bravery or anything else of the sort and you weren’t anywhere near one of the worst when it came to scarring. First place probably went to Phegma, who had a huge burn scar just barely covered by her day wear.

You got yours because you weren’t fast enough to dodge the blow of an axe, to jump out the way of a trap sprung on the group without taking some serious damage.

You were a great planner, an architect and an infrastructural thinker. But that didn’t often come in handy on the Edge, especially not when all the buts of your knowledge that could be applied were better covered by the other Riders’ areas of expertise.

So where everyone else excelled, you stumbled. Where everyone else tumbled with the blows, you fell hard onto the ground, and you hadn’t anyone to confide your hurts in.

Eventually trying to keep up got to be too much. When you saw the rest of them, able to come together so easily and shake off all their cuts and injuries, you hurt.

There was nothing quite as terrible as watching everyone, especially Hiccup, walk forwards while you strayed behind, struggling your hardest and failing to even to keep to their heels.

You blinked at the scratching of something sharp against wooden walls, muffled though still clearly audible, coming from the outside. You paid it no mind, ignoring it just as you ignored the tiny shafts of sunlight seeping through the cracks between wooden planks and crumbling walls, illuminating tiny particles of floating dust.

It was just the branches pestering the framework of your salvaged home, one of the half-dead bushes lining the front, nearing the height of a tree, mimicking the sound of a dragon you’d long since pushed from your mind. Yours.

You sighed. It was just another thing weighing on your mind back then, when you’d been at your lowest. You were tired of it, now. But a blank kind of tired.

Like a flat, fresh water ocean. Waveless, shallow. Eerie.

It was a much calmer tired than the kind you felt then; Violent waves slamming you into the sand, rubbing fragile lungs raw with grit and silt. Of the bruised ribs, the fighting, the cuts and hurt no one seemed to notice and the friend you didn’t seem good enough to have anymore.

You reached down to pull your tunic off the ground, tossing it onto a nearby table, covered in dust, made frail through disuse. You coughed at the fine grime tossed into the air, flapping your hand in front of your nose in an effort to disperse it.

You wondered if the sealights would be lit tonight.

“-He has five dragons. Five. And he wants me to come up with a whole set of dragon towers for him how?-”

You trod through the dewey morning leaves, back straighter than necessary, trying not to sweat too much or to look back at the armorless, green-tunic-ed guest at your back.

You couldn’t say you weren’t a little tired of the whole running Berk it yourself. Sure, you weren’t necessarily responsible for it but it was a pastime of a lot of the Vikings around town to talk about it, the mindless gossips, and once or twice while you were in town trading for what you needed.

There were also the sailors, who had a mind, when down by the docks, to share the business of everyone regardless of the tribe. Even as the village recluse, you got roped into it, listening around corners with rap ears

“-Even with dragons it’s not easy to-” Hiccup waved his hands around, journaling under one arm and eyes glued, glaring onto the ground. It turns out he had taken you at your word. Sort of. He was still very much alive. He must have found some time off, or figured out something, because here he was.

You squinted at the paper in your hand, staring at messily done blueprints. There was a house sketched lifted above the ground by a pole and another sketch of a bunch of regular huts stacked on top of each other. You held the same basket from before under your arm, woven bits frayed and flexible and worn.

You recognized the beginning stages of a bunch of these sorts of huts being built all around Berk. It was getting fuller, especially with all of the ex-trappers and Vikings migrating in from the other tribes. And then there were relations outside of the interpersonal to manage. So of course there needed to be a few changes.

“This isn’t safe,” You said drily, “Remember the windmill? These are all going to fall down with the next devastating winter. And where are we going to find logs large and long enough to keep all these houses up? There aren’t nearly enough trees on all of Berk to get this done for everyone.”

“I know!” Hiccup pausing, turning to shake his head quickly, before bending over to scrub the hair on his head, “It’s insane! Everyone wants me to go with it!”

“You shouldn’t,” You deadpanned.

“I might,” Hiccup pursed his lips, “If it gets them to leave me alone. I can’t be builder, Rider and Chief.”

“Well- no, you can’t be. But why don’t you just come up with a few sturdy designs and make him choose one. Same for everyone else. Then just,” You paused, grimacing as you had to grab a branch, pushing it out of the way, “Put someone in charge of building all of them. And making sure they don’t go build in all the wrong spots.”

“I don’t know,” Hiccup shrugged his shoulders, letting his arms fall back to his sides, turning his head up and allowing the light filtering through the thick wooded area to fall onto his face, “Everyone wants something unique. You think they’ll settle?”

You turned around, branch still in hand, “They’ll have to. Same way they have been for three hundred years.”

You rolled your eyes and set forth again, letting go of the branch, which swung back quickly. You didn’t quite see what happened any more than you heard Hiccup’s yelp and the subsequent step back.

“Ow, ow, ow ow, Gods, curse it-”

You turned back around startled, turning back into the branch which followed its inertia, snapping back into your face.

You brought your hand back up to your eye so quickly you smacked, dropping your trusty basket right out from under your arm and falling roughly onto your butt. The berries on the inside poured out of your basket onto the forest floor and you cursed, bemoaning it and yourself and laying the rest of the way down onto your back.

Head against the roots of a tree, smelling the earth and staring up at the dappled sunlight through waving tree leaves, you couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up through your throat.

It was better than getting mad, or crying. Still, you stifled it, shaking your head clear, pushing yourself back up, ignoring the stickiness of the berries stuck to your back and the juice dripping down the side of your hand.

Hiccup looked down on you skeptically, lips quirked in a way you read as confused. You remembered a time when he might have fallen down with you. It seems though that as the two of you got older, he became much surer of yourself.

Still, it was a world of difference from the Hiccup you knew a moment ago, stressed and weighted and tired with all the burdens of everyone else on Berk and the loss of his father on his back.

You wanted to see more of this Hiccup, who was snippy and sarcastic and who you might have loved once upon a time. Who wasn’t stuck in mournful contemplation about identities and relationships and other such sad things.

And maybe you wanted to take back some of him for yourself, as if it might bring back to you the part of yourself you lost, at least for just this little while. Though if this was where it ended, for you, this moment would be more than enough.

He needed reprieve. You decided you would be that reprieve, for as long as he would take you.

“Why don’t we do something besides talk about Berk?” You smiled wryly to yourself, rubbing your hands off on your smock, shrugging your shoulders loose once you got back onto your feet.

You did your best to put on a happier facade, different from the insecure, hunched-shouldered version of you from way back in the past, and different from the apathetic lone figure you were now.

“I…” Hiccup blinked at you for a moment. He looked a tad thrown off by you now with your shoulders high, hands on your waist and back straight, much different from any sort of behavior you’d exhibited since long before.

The wide smirk on your face faltered, and you toned it down a little, slumping a bit. You knew you hadn’t had the ability to make Hiccup smile in a long time, but this was just terrible. Sometimes you wondered if you ever had, or if he was just faking it. It didn’t matter much to you now.

“Or, you can come with me and wait outside while I go find a change of clothes,” You said blankly, letting your hands fall to your sides, “Your pick.”

Hiccup grimaced, probably thinking of the greeting he’d get once he got back. You weren’t quite sure how he made it out here in the first place, and in his casual wear no less. You hadn’t seen him in anything less than a full set of leather armor for a very long time.

Of course, he’d chosen the latter. Sort of.

You let the water from the stream run over the toes of your boots, waterproofed by tar and oil as you pulled up your smock, scrubbed until it was worn and back to the same colorless dull hue you had gotten it in. It was to your benefit that you had worn something under, though the berries were much too pigmented for you to leave your smock on its lonesome.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” You sighed, picking yourself up and away from the beck, slinging your water heavy clothing over a low-hanging branch.

You turned to look at Hiccup who had decided to wait by the treeline, back to one of the large pines lining the whole island. He had found himself a terror along the way and was minding it with amusement, waving a thin branch above its head and watching and it leapt and curled after.

“It’s alright,” He said almost bashfully, without looking up, as the Terror flipped onto its belly, wriggling after the branch Hiccup waved over its stomach like a fish to a worm, “I, ah, I got Johannes to handle the stables.”

Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck as you pulled down your sleeves, picking at the loose threads and checking for any unpleasant damp spots, of which, for once, thankfully, there were few.

“You took my advice, then,” You noted absentmindedly that this was the tunic you’d worn on the Edge, its color washed out and much thinner, but still very recognizable.

“Yeah,” Hiccup weighed the stick in his hand almost contemplatively before tossing it to the side, watching as the terror scurried after.

“So,” You said, sweeping your foot almost carelessly across the carpeted forest floor, pulling your basket into your arms again, “How have you been?”

“How have I been?” Hiccup asked astoundedly even as he eyed your smock, reluctantly pulling his gaze from it in order to follow as you led your way back up to the forest path, “I think you know the answer to that.”

“Yes, well, no- I mean, from before that,” You scoffed, looking down darkly into your nearly empty basket.

You meant after you left.

You felt the familiar pulling of tides, tugging at something deep and light in your gut.

The air was still between you. It was hard not to feel when there was nothing between you but air and your own memory of some hastily forgotten hurts.

“That was a stupid question,” You shrugged, kicking aside a stick, protruding from just off the path.

You were sure Hiccup had been too stressed earlier to care or notice but it was easily felt now. Your quarters were much too close for you to put on the same old facade and pretend that nothing had ever happened and that the two of you weren’t ever more than strangers, your bond closely resembling something you might have once called friendship.

“I… Well, if you don’t mind tagging along still, I won’t make you do much,” You pushed down thoughts of beating storms, rain so thick you couldn’t see five feet in front of you, “You caught me off guard.”

You blinked away memories of rushing, towering waves and a bone-deep chill only made worse by the pressing winds and the water soaked deep through your clothes and to your bones, causing you to shiver and shake and pull closer to the neck of your dragon.

Pressing deeper into leathery skin and scales, closer than you ever thought possible, praying to the Gods that you might be spared the indignity of living to see another day past your shame, past your desertion.

“Alright,” Hiccup decided finally, eyeing you oddly.

You pretended you didn’t feel the phantom shivers clawing up and down your spine or the echoes of a deep burning hurt you were certain had gone long since unnoticed by all the wrong people.

You made sure your breathing was steady as you marched forward, carefully putting one foot in front of the other.

You listened to the occasional wingbeat of a dragon from up above and the unburdened twittering of small animals in the foliage surrounding you.

You heard Hiccup stifle a yawn from back behind you. You wondered what you could do to make this trip worth it for him. To be honest, you weren’t quite expecting him to take you up on your offer. It was more of a snipe, really.

You’d never been good at those, though. People always took you much too seriously.

There was a clearing up further ahead to your left, one you neared as the trees grew thicker and larger, where you could hopefully make up for some of your lost boon. The berries, you were sure they were gone, but perhaps you could make up for it by finding some other things.

The loudest noise between the two of you was the sound of your footsteps.

You inhaled the misty air of the forest and, eventually, you began to relax.

“Here we are,” You hummed, as the path grew lighter, sunlight filtering between the trees and the foliage.

You examined the crown with care, looking over each leaf and link, turning it around gently in your hands. What began as a task born from boredom became something you invested yourself into with brief interest.

The atmosphere was bright and the sun warm against your shoulder blades, laying like a heavy furred blanket across them as you leaned down, splitting small holes in the ends with your fingernails and threading grasses through until you had some approximation of a flower crown, minus the flowers.

It was the kind of warmth that made you sentimental, bringing up a feeling that felt like something flowering, which you pursued vaguely as if this might have been the last time you ever felt it.

By the time you two had been teenagers, Hiccup had been long since uninterested in that kind of thing. In teenage boy fashion, he avoided things such as flower crowns and playing in the sand down by the beach, much too focused on killing a Dragon and trying to seem tough enough to meet standard.

Then he got Toothless, and from there on after he hadn’t time for anything but Dragons and the Riders. He was too absorbed in his inventions to pay any mind to other things.

You’d deeply wanted to do it, though maybe not always specifically to him, but you’d never found the purpose. You had it now.

You turned to Hiccup with a lopsided smile, watching his chest rise and fall gently for a few moments. Your lips twitched, falling into a small crown as you held out the crown, deciding whether or not you should drop it.

Hiccup blinked drowsily awake at the sudden movement, to which you startled and before you realized it, the crown had gently slipped from your fingers and fell over the crown of his head. Because of the angle, though, it looked to be resting more on his forehead than anything.

You held your breath as his eyes unfocused and fluttered shut again, unregistering, and you backed up on all fours with quiet ease, pushing yourself to your feet, attempting to flee the scene and pretend nothing had quiet happened at all.

You shuffled to the other side of the clearing, craving distance, walking a path around it like you were attempting to trace the edges with your feet. You balanced on it, placing your heel to the other foot’s toe and then again with the opposite foot, arms out in front of you, taking note of all the shrubbery around you.

Eventually the shifting ferns drew back your attention and you glanced back towards Hiccup, who’d sat up groggily, slowly examining the crown that had probably, most likely just fallen from his head.

He looked a complete and utter mess. You hid an ugly grin.

“I hope you like it,” You smiled down at the stem connecting a nice wad of berries to the bush. It was too quiet for him to hear and you were much too far away, but it was more of a musing to yourself anyways.

You leaned back onto your heels, sore for all the walking you’d done. You wondered if they were the right kind, enough to replace the bushel you’d lost earlier. You weren’t completely sure they were edible, anyways.

The two of you had broken out into a clearing, one covered in grass and ferns, and this was where you had decided to set midday camp.

You lounged there in the waning sun, Hiccup more so than you, not so much watching the world turn to oranges and reds as witnessing it in your periphery. You’d lived it too many times for it to be any sort of novel.

You were sure it was different on dragonback, but alas. You didn’t have that option.

After you came back to Berk, taking to the ground like you’d developed a phobia of everything else, it spent a lot of time flying around on its own, going who-knows-where on most days. One day, when you’d had the mind to look for it, you’d found that it had flown off for what was most likely good.

You traced the leaf veins below your thumb, lost in mindless remembrance, ambiguously aware as Hiccup got up.

He groaned like he was a decades older man than he was, audible across the clearing, while putting his hands to the small of his back and leaning backwards mad before he made his way over.

“What’s this?” Hiccup asked, holding what you were sure was the crown in his hand. You weren’t looking and ignored it, not necessarily expecting him to call you out on it any more than you’d expected to make the crown itself.

“Not sure,” You said, before looking over, and glancing up and down at ruffled clothes, messy hair and the sleeve that came up to wipe off the corner of his mouth, “Have a nice nap?”

“I’m just fine, thanks… “

You rolled your eyes, “That wasn’t my question.”

“Does it matter?” He asked, straightening out his shoulders.

“You were out for a while,” You said in lieu of an answer, “Was worried you needed me to drag you back to the village. Tuck you into bed.”

“No,” Hiccup said exorbitantly, “Never.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” You shot back.

“Maybe.”

“Definitely…” Hiccup started, “An exaggeration.”

“Not at all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Everyone’s had their share of it,” You stated, lifting your shoulders exaggeratedly, bringing both hands up by your head with your shrug, while kicking out your foot, turning to trot off in the opposite direction.

“You do a lot of really-need-to-be-dragged-back-after activities.”

“Hey, well, I’ve done a lot of that for you, too.”

“Pick one, name something.”

“I mean, I’ve kept you from falling down off cliffs a lot,” Hiccup ran a hand through his hair.

“I have since not stopped falling off cliffs,” You squinted at him, “And neither have you, I’m pretty sure. Also, that jumping off dragons thing? Serious disqualifier. That counts as at least half a cliff jump every time. Negative helping-me-out points. Honest.”

“What?” Hiccup shook his head, gesturing towards himself, “Doesn’t count. Never met a dragon that didn’t have my back. Natural Dragon Master. No danger.”

A natural if by natural he meant through fifteen years of absolute failure in any sort of interaction with an animal more sentient than a frog.

“Sure…” You remembered all the time he spent as kids, half with you and sometimes without, running across rooftops for his dad. Because you were being chased. By dragons.

“Okay, call me a dragon, right now.” You said, with finality.

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

You spent a little while staring at him.

“What, now?”

You nodded.

You were slightly surprised when he played along, even though you knew you had been egging him on to do it. You watched him cup his hands and chitter oddly into them, in a mimicry of what you understood as a Terror call.

You looked down on him with fake skepticism. Usually, with the call, it was a hit or miss whether a dragon would respond. The dragons with Riders tended to ignore you completely unless you were their rider.

Both of you knew this, though you counted it on being a miss.

“They’re coming, you’ll see,” Hiccup said, waving his left hand as if he was clearing smoke out of the air.

“I hope it blows up in your face. Like that catapult, from when we were kids,” You blew a raspberry at him.

“What, which one?” Hiccup asked.

“The one you tried to roll up to your house, kept rolling down the hill, went straight through Burthair’s cart and smashed through his fence,” You grinned, “Your dad made you round up all his sheep after, remember?”

You remembered trying to help him quietly in secret, gathering a few sheep on a lead before you were caught and sent home to be scolded.

“No, hey, You blew that one up,” Hiccup said incredulously, “That one was all you.”

“Yeah, it was.” You admitted guiltlessly.

“You are the worst,” He said, as the sound of flapping and the rustling of trees grew slightly louder. You ignored it, thinking it was just another random group of dragons lost over Berk. There had been a lot of those as of late.

“The worst,” You agreed. You had a foot already up, halfway into a turn before a bright yellow, spiny body slammed quickly into your face.

You yelped, falling to the side, tumbling slightly as what must have been a Terrible terror scrambled for purchase and left off your face and into the tree line. You blinked, half-shaded under low-hanging branches.

You braced yourself against your arm, bringing your other hand down from your face to see red in the shape of a smeared line across your face. By the look and size of it, it wasn’t too bad.

You opened and closed your jaw with annoyance, realizing quickly that the Terror must have scratched your face.

Henceforth, though, you were much more easily capable of dodging around the sudden appearance of more Terrors, catching a tiny green one just before it face planted into the dirt.

“Woah, woah, woah,” You caught Hiccup, too, doing his best to dodge around them, jumping back as a feisty blue clawed its way up his back as he made his way towards you.

It was a difficult effort to make as by the time you had found solid ground, the dragons began to jump on top of him, covering his arms and legs so that he looked like a pile of very large and colorful bees standing on two legs.

You could help but laugh, wobbling over to help. You slipped your hand under the leg of a terror just before Hiccup fell over with a shout, falling forwards and nearly dragging you with him as he tumbled into the shade of the treeline.

And as if following a command, terrors scuttled away, as if chasing after your peals of laughter, echoing around the clearing.

There wasn’t nearly enough time between Hiccup’s call and the appearance of the dragons for any, or at least most of them to have come in from Berk, nor any guarantee that any of the Terrors heard him, but these gathered quick enough for you to be seriously impressed.

“Yeah… I wasn’t expecting that either.” You stared down at Hiccup as he stared back, the two of you looking at each other with startled eyes, you bent half over and Hiccup propper up on his elbows on the ground before the two of you broke out into breathy laughter.

The flowers and plants around you were heady, filling the breathless airheadedness in between your eyes with even more cotton.

Your voices mixed and quieted in equal fashion, the two of you ignoring the mutterings of the forest until, eventually, they grew into something you could hear.

“Hiccup!”

You froze, a wince stuck on your face.

“Hiccup!” This shout was much more drawn than the last.

It was Astrid.

You saw the shadows of her and Stormfly drift smoothly over the face of the clearing. You wondered if she had followed some of the Terrors out or if she had gotten Stormfly to track Hiccup’s scent.

You were about to look back at Hiccup for some sort of direction before he tugged you after him. Tugged until the two of you were huddled under the alcove you had missed, made by two thick roots of a ginormous tree, waiting.

You weren’t sure how far above she was, she hoped she didn’t see your basket, sitting plainly across the way.

You could tell Hiccup was holding his breath, staring out deep into the forest, where trees went from towering to the sole consumers of light, protecting a misty undergrowth beneath a dark, leafy roof. There was a log to the left of the entrance to the narrow space, half-rotted and sprouting mushrooms out of its side.

You recalled that there had been a notable instance around when the two of you had been just about twelve, sneaking around in the Great Hall for the leftovers post meal. You’d been trapped in a closet, when they’d had those, removed after you and Hiccup had accidentally burned them down at fourteen, with nothing but a loaf of bread between you.

The air wasn’t nearly as musty or stale, and of course it was much darker then, with not the whiff of a fresh plant in sight, but the principal was still the same.

You held very little stake in it all, but you kept close and stiff anyways, the joyful atmosphere from before mixing into something fun and scurrilous, electrifying the space behind your eyes and sending ticklish bolts of lightning down your spine.

It remained there until the heavy wing beats of the Dragons above you faded long into the distance.

The field, littered with scented flowers and bushes, must have muddled Stormfly’s scent. Or she really was just following the Terrors. One thing was sure, though. Where there was one Rider, there were more.

“I thought you said you got people to cover it?” You asked.

“I did. They should have been able to, but something must have happened,” Hiccup leaned back against the tree bark, hitting the back of his head against it lightly, grunting lightly as it did.

You wondered if he had grown a few inchest still since you had last been close to him on the Edge.

You raised your eyebrow, asking the silent question. Are you going to go back?

Hiccup said nothing, looking away, though you couldn’t miss the soft clench of his jaw and the gentle slouch, or the agitated twiddling of his fingers by his waist.

You rolled your eyes. Privately, you almost felt bad that you weren’t able to give him a better time out. But also, there would be many other times for him to make up for it with other people. You wondered if he would ever choose to come back to you.

“They should be able to handle it. They’re not children. But it’s no burden on me whether you stay or go,” You inclined your head forwards.

You placed one foot in front of the other across the uneven wooden planks. You just needed to get down to the fields.

You strode past the bright red hut that marked the Jorgenon Clan, avoiding haphazardly placed construction materials.

You paused where you stood and turned back as Hiccup called your name, standing right in the middle of the walkway. It never ceased to surprise you whenever he showed up.

It wasn’t much. But it still surprised you every time he came with greetings.

You smiled.

He quickened his pace, pulling himself up onto the path and stopping in front of you, prosthetic clicking against wood.

“Hiccup,” You greeted, “What brings you to me?”

“Where do you live, now?” He asked, “I was planning on stopping by, but…”

“Up behind the spire on the way to Gothi’s,” You hummed.

“But that’s… You live in Mildew’s old hut?” Hiccup asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” You nodded, rifling through the satchel clipped to your waist, flicking through rows of herbs with delicately placed fingertips, “So what have you been up to?”

You realized you needed to go off-island soon. The idea filled you with dread.

“Do you really want to ask that?” Hiccup questioned, “because there’s been a lot…”

“Why not?” You shrugged.

“Some rouge dragons have been eating holes into the earth- and with all the dragons underwater, coupled with the Scauldrons-” Hiccup rubbed his forehead, “Basically, they’ve been drilling new hot springs, which has been nice, but no one’s gotten to any of them yet. They always seem to dry up before anyone can get there and back and I keep getting complaints about people’s water getting stolen, or something.”

“Ouch,” You said sympathetically, as Hiccup continued on.

“I wish they’d give it up, honestly. There are more important things for me to get to, but I haven’t even been able to get to all the trading issues with all the other tribes… Anyways, are you busy?” Hiccup asked quickly, looking back and forth.

“Busy?” You asked.

“I kinda want to get out of here before anyone else…” Hiccup shrugged his shoulders, cringing.

“Notices?” You finished, “Let’s go.”

“A hot spring?” You asked aloud, both your and Hiccup grasping the edge of the pool on your knees, watching the water bubble slightly.

Hiccup extended a hand hesitantly, grazing it over the bubbling surface. You watched as the foam fizzled underneath his palms and when he didn't flinch, you sat back and pulled off your boots, rolling up the legs of your trousers, revealing a long scar on the leg furthest Hiccup.

“It’s alright to wash in?” You asked, Hiccup nodding an affirmative.

You rested a bare foot onto the bubbling water, testing it out with your toes, before sinking your legs in with a breathy sigh.

“It’s one of the ones you were talking about, right?” You asked

“Yeah,” Hiccup confirmed, watching you closely.

You let out a soft, disappointed sound at the idea that it might be gone soon.

The spring looked to be about waist-deep, though that might be something you needed to test out before dipping into the pool. It was pressed up and partially embedded in the side of a rocky cliff, spearing into the ground at a sideways angle.

All around, the two of you were packed in by large, lush fauna. Huge ferns, even larger trees and a great deal of mist.

Very, very private.

It was extremely tempting.

“We could… It would be nice, but…” Hiccup reasoned. He didn’t seem into the idea, which was fine. Honestly, you didn’t mind having this spot all to yourself.

There wasn’t much of a practical way to sink into the waters without stripping nearly bare anyways. Hiccup’s armor would most definitely be damaged by the water, and you didn’t like the idea of marching back to Berk in sopping wet furs.

Your undergarments certainly weren’t up to scratch for the kind of soak you were looking for.

“We don’t have a change of clothes.” You said, meeting his eyes head on. The two of you looked at each other for a moment.

Hiccup must have followed the same line of thought, looking at you like he’d caught something odd and he didn’t know what to do with it. There was an odd feeling curling in your stomach, and an awkwardness that hadn’t been so palmable between you since before… Before.

Did it really matter if he saw you naked? Or at least clothed only partially? It wasn’t as if you’d never seen him the same during all your years of semi-sturdy friendship.

You spent a moment feeling the skin on your face begin to warm, brows crinkling with a remembrance that sort of killed the mood before you glanced away with as much casualness as you could muster.

“Do you think we could get back in time?” You asked instead.

“Well, there’s not much hope, but I guess it’s worth a try,” Hiccup started hesitantly.

You and Hiccup stared down at the small bubbling hole at the base of an empty basin. It had been an awkward walk back to the Village. Still, you seemed incapable of suggesting anything else. Hiccup, too.

“Gods damn it,” Hiccup said.

You shrugged, the roll of cloth under your hands shifting only slightly. Besides the tarp strapped to your back and the towels to Hiccup’s, the both of you were carrying a set of undergarments you found which should have covered just enough to remain modest in the springs.

Toothless, behind the two of you, basket in mouth, grumbled as he dropped it to the tall grass floor. You’d brought him along in order to help carry the bulk of your things.

“Well,” You started, puzzling to yourself, hand under your chin, “I mean, we could try what you did last time? With the Terrors?”

“But with a Scauldron, right?”

You nodded, “Honestly, it’s that or head back.”

Hiccup winced, immediately backing away to settle down onto one knee. He was turned to face your right, so that he was looking out towards the forest.

He opened his mouth and cupped his hands, then paused. Then he tried again. But no sound game out. The whole time Toothless looked peeved, eyes shifting between the two of you as he snorted.

You stared blankly, waiting, which was probably the first time you and Toothless ever felt the same sort of emotion, though you most likely meant it in a much more joking fashion than he did.

“I can’t do it with you watching,” Hiccup said, finally.

You squinted at him, wondering what was up with the sudden-onset stage fright, just as Toothless rolled his eyes, shaking his torso like a wet dog, causing a hastily-clipped basket to fall off his saddle.

“Oh,” You said, turning around and grinning to yourself, “Alright. Howl away.”

You hoped he hadn’t figured out how to get to the fish basket yet. It would be a pain to walk back to Berk with everything in hand, and it would be very easy for Toothless to leave without his incentive to follow the hostage on his back.

“It’s not howling.” Hiccup deadpanned.

You knew that. You were actually pretty decent at it, back when you were still involved in the dragon business.

“Alright.”

You stared out at a heavy wall of fauna, a large leaf and a towering set of two trees consuming the vast majority of your vision. You watched a bug crawl up the exterior of one and noted to yourself silently that you would have to watch where you rested your things while you were in the spring, if what Hiccup was trying was to work.

You listened to him shift and shuffle, moving around until Toothless must have gotten tired of waiting and he himself let out a loud, echoing roar.

You jumped back, caught off guard, jerking towards the pair with your ears covered by your hands, undergarments, falling to the grass below.

“How long do you think it will take to fill up?” You asked from the floor, hips sinking into the grass as you pushed yourself up, shrugging the straps holding the large cloth tarp in place off your shoulders.

“Not sure,” Hiccup said, shifting from foot to foot, “We should get changed first.”

“Yeah,” You agreed, tossing it over to him. He weighed it in his hands, examining it before pulling it free and letting it unravel onto the floor.

“Hey, do you have any idea where we packed the blanket?” You asked. It was a bit overkill, but… You bit your lip.

“In the saddle, I think.”

You inhaled touchily as Hiccup gripped onto the edge of the tarp, turning from you to throw the other end out, watching it unfurl as it caught air, “Ah, do you think you could get it?”

Swiftly though not without ungain, Hiccup slung the tarp over one of the low-hanging branches, the ends of the fabric falling horizontally over the thick grasses and bushes around you.

You supposed that meant the tarp was unnecessary, the forest here enough to bless you with cover and privacy. You noted that down.

“What? He’s harmless,” Hiccup said, letting the curtain fall closed behind him.

You squinted into the sky, up through a very small window, shafting light down through the trees. You would have worried that no other dragons would heed Toothless’ call, knowing that you yourself wouldn’t, had you not already heard the hurried beating of wings from up above.

You stuck your tongue out at Hiccup, then turned it towards his dragon.

Honestly, it was still unimaginable to you that Toothless had developed the ability to become Alpha. It was insane, and insanely lucky. For Hiccup, that is.

The two of you, meaning you and Toothless, had never been left alone in the same room together for a reason, though most people just thought it was your fault. The reason being that Toothless didn’t like you, and you didn’t like him as a result of that.

Harmless… Right. You scoffed.

You knew you knew better and you reassured yourself of that fact, as Toothless grumbled at you from across the small space.

Hiccup shook his head at you, quirking the corner of his mouth to the side as it formed a fondly exasperated line, unclipping various satchels and baskets from Toothless’ back.

You grimaced and scooted further away from the dragon, nudging the basket of fish closer to him with your foot, hoping that he might take more of an interest in that instead.

You kept your eyes trained on the dragon even as Hiccup walked to his side with his clothes under his arm shuffling through the treeline and behind the curtain.

“You have enough room?” You squinted at Toothless, resting your arms against your knees, and he narrowed them back.

It had been a tricky job to get his things without anyone else noticing, a lot of careful pressing around corners and tricky, calculated jabs from Toothless, many of which you were still bitter about.

“It’s enough,” Hiccup responded, voice trained.

The scaly thing was still grumpy; the chances of him soldering a grudge were high, especially where you were involved. The two of you called him away from a tussle with some other dragons from around the bend, which he seemed to be enjoying by at least some measure.

If only he’d put some of that energy into being a more attentive Alpha. You wrinkled your nose, judging the dragon like a temperamental parent.

You listened to the shifting of leaves, fabric and leather before deciding you’d been waiting too long, much too used to doing things on your own time.

“I’m just going to change over here,” You called through the curtain, “Turn around, will you?” You asked Toothless, who grumbled at you disgruntledly, the ridges of his brows as furrowed as he could make them.

“Turn around, Toothless,” Hiccup confirmed from behind the curtain.

He shifted with a grumble, lumbering sideways and around, though not without whacking you in the calf with his tail, first.

You finished changing just as the first few dragons began to settle down.

You shuffled to the side once you were ready, letting Hiccup through to order and direct, gentle-parenting the dragons into doing what you needed.

You watched him. He was shirtless, legs bare, though his left ankle remained wrapped to his prosthetic. You wondered if it hurt, sometimes, though you hadn’t the courage to ask.

He was slim as always, muscled but not quite muscly, more soft than not. It went unsaid that he was not nearly as built or wide as any of the other Viking men, so you tried not to ogle.

You sat, legs crossed on the ground as Hiccup directed the Scauldrons and Gronkle in turn, slowly patching and filling up the pool.

“How long do you think it will take to cool down?” You asked as he sent them off and he came over to stand by you, settling himself onto the small stretch of grass you were laid in.

“Not sure,” He answered.

At one point Toothless turned towards the trees, shaking himself off before beginning to march through the underbrush.

“Hey, don’t go too far, bud,” Hiccup called after him.

The two of you sat there, just you, watching steam rise from the pool

“He’s been really independent lately,” Hiccup stiffened slightly, picking at the wooden end of his prosthetic, “Yeah…”

You moved back to give him space as he unraveled the leather wraps keeping his prosthetic secure to his leg, revealing a stump and a good amount of pinched scar tissue.

You spent a moment longer looking at it than you probably should’ve before looking away. You’d never seen it before

You wondered if Astrid had. You couldn’t imagine a world where she hadn’t.

Hiccup sunk into the water first.

Sweat beaded on your forehead as you hovered above it, hands lightly gripping the edge of the pool.

You dipped your toes in before all at once you sunk into the water, drifting down until your feet touched ground, sighing as you felt the heat rise up to your hips.

The ground was made up of small pebbles and smooth stone, and much nicer on the bottoms of your feet than you’d expected.

There was a ledge underneath, just the right height and length going around the inner edge of the pool on most sides to make a nice enough bench. You waded towards it, settling over the concave surface, ignoring the slight unevenness of it.

You relaxed, going boneless underwater, feeling your face redden as the heat from the water floated up into it, causing a line of sweat to run down your cheek.

With nothing else to you, your eyes drifted over towards Hiccup. He was much the same, though he was a little more out of it.

He really needed it, you supposed.

You blinked at him as he tilted his head back, exposing freckled skin, much more faded than when you were younger but visible just the same.

You eyed a multitude of cuts, long and light against his tan, following them down to a long vertical cut by the right side of his chest.

“What’s on your mind?” Hiccup’s voice brought you back to alertness, breaking the spell the spring seemed to put you under.

You tilted your head back and forth, debating whether or not you should answer.

He followed your eyesight instead, answering the silent question in your eyes.

“That… Axe. Training accident,” He answered, shrugging. You marveled at the casualness of it all.

“...And that one?”

“Dragon racing. Caught in the side by one of the spikes over Hofferson house,” You nodded. You hadn’t been in town for that one.

“And, I’m guessing, that’s why you guys use more of a track, now?”

Hiccup rubbed his neck sheepishly.

“Where’d you get yours?” He asked

Being able to talk and converse with him like this was great and all, but you were afraid that behind all the mindless platitudes and play-warmth he would finally, finally see you. See deeper than the scars like cracks on your surface, seep right into line lines and stare into your core to somehow find you wanting.

You hunched slightly inwards self consciously.

“Hey, it’s… it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,”

Hiccup drifted towards you, resting his hand on the side of your shoulder.

You kept your eyes trained downwards, staring at large groups of bubbles as they rose to the surface, coloring the water an opaque white.

Your exhale blew hotly back into your face, rising up with the steam.

You nodded.

Hiccup hummed under his breath, voice tinted with a hint of confusion.

You pressed your thumbs into his shoulder blades in the dark of your hut, moving with his muscles as he groaned and flexed them backwards.

You felt the outline of lightning scars under his shirt and followed them down lazily, rubbing a path around them, pushing deep into weary muscle through his thick tunic.

Hiccup leaned into it. Again, you moved to accommodate him.

You shifted over your hastily done bed, dull fabric shifting below you.

Afternoon light trickled in through the blinds.

You counted every scar visible above the line of his collar, each cut and scab that formed alabaster marks against peachy-tan skin.

You worked through knots, strains and strains and stresses, watching with a careful eye as Hiccup softened, letting them melt off and away.

You worked your way back up, and down, leaning maybe a bit closer than necessary, feeling your breath on your face as you exhaled into the nape of his neck, lifting your elbow higher in order to get a hard spot a few lengths away from his spine.

Hiccup let out a breathy sigh.

You flushed.

You sifted through the assortment of ripe berries in the cart, humming thoughtfully.

You weren’t quite sure what to buy. Honestly, you didn’t need to buy any at all. You had a large enough stock at home to guarantee you’d not need to buy or forage anything until the next year.

You would never say it out loud but you were actually out to take inventory. A whole lot of the other Vikings would be displeased to hear about it, you were sure. It was a good way for you to keep stock of what was in store and what you would need to search for on your own. It was how you made your coin.

It was quite easy, especially when you took advantage of your close proximity to Gothi. Though a tough and harried healer, she was still an elder and it was much more convenient to have the shops travel up towards her.

Some might have called it ‘taking advantage of the elderly,’ but you were loath to the idea. You didn't upcharge her by too much. Whenever you did up the price, it was much deserved payback for dumping her waste down your side of the mountain. Somehow it always landed on your roof.

You brought your finger to your chin and moved to accommodate a newcomer you sensed by the corner of your eye, careful not to look up at the stall keeper, who was squinting down at you suspiciously. You were afraid he might have been catching on.

You walked over to a wide array of scales, most likely scavenged from the dropped and shed skins of the dragons who enjoyed roaming around town.

You enjoyed the fresh air, the wind as it flowed over your scalp. You felt light and pleased, one hand held to your back as you pursued the displayed wares.

There was a nice arranged pyramid of orangish-reddish scales and a set of electric yellow and purple sat above a wrinkled, dull green cloth, and a line of iridescent scales by your right hand.

“You see something you like?” You startled as you heard a voice murmur by your ear. It seemed to be that you were so engrossed in pretending to be invested that you hadn’t noticed as your fellow shoppe leaned into your space.

You walked to the side, turning so that you were leaning away from her.

It was a woman, brown hair nearing red, the brightest auburn you’d ever seen in the light, dressed in a thin layer of furs with both hands on her hips. You recognized this woman.

“These came from me,” She exclaimed calmly, voice running off her tongue like thick, gooey honey.

The stall keeper rolled his eyes, “You’ll get your cut, don’t worry.”

The question must have been obvious in your eyes because Valka smiled, “Oh, yes, I collected those myself, you see.”

You smiled uncomfortably as Valka laughed to herself, finally backing up a tad.

You straightened your back and your shoulders, exhaling deeply.

Though she was unbalanced from her time away from general society, she was confident and it served her well.

Her swell mood was contagious. You quirked your lips with the urge to join in, though to your chagrin, your own laughter came out more as a breathy uncomfortable chuckle than anything. You were also very much out of practice.

She didn’t seem to notice, though you knew that was most likely a calculated effort. You were glad for it.

“Hello,” You managed an honest smile, “Trying to push sales?”

“I’ve a bit of a vested interest in this shop, I should say,” She said, examining you as if you were a sort of creature from a land she’d never seen before, “Who are you?”

Valka paused, blinking to herself. Before you could respond again, she asked, “What’s your name? What’s your story?”

She didn’t know, you realized with a pang. There was no reason for her to, of course, Hiccup being your only link to each other and the two of you hadn’t been nearly as close as you had been before, as of late, but it still hurt a little. Definitely put a damper on your mood.

You kept up your smile anyways, mimicking her pose.

“I’ve not much of a story to tell, I’m sad to say,” You inclined your head.

“Everyone’s got a story,” Valka insisted, “Even-Oh, it should be-...”

You hummed your question.

“It’s probably wandered off somewhere, the frightful thing… There-! This one’s been pretty helpful,” Valka pointed out behind you, “A bashful thing, helped me bring down some of the wares. He showed up a few months before, well…”

Her eyes unfocused and her stance fell just the smallest bit. You winced with sympathy, remembering how Drago had smothered the island in ice before nearly killing off all of its inhabitants. She was very open about it, especially in the hall, and word spread faster than fire on Berk. It must have been difficult to lose her husband and her Alpha Dragon all in one day.

You shifted, turning following her direction after a moment of solidarity, and froze.

With its head bowed down, looking guiltily away from across the clearing was a dragon. Your dragon.

She leaned forwards against you conspiratorially, though this time you didn’t react, even as she whispered loudly in your ear with false secrecy, “It doesn’t hurt to have a bit of extra change on hand, you see. That’s why I’m here.”

“I do see,” You nodded along, though something about your voice was off as you spoke, still staring at your old dragon. Your voice was much too sharp and flat and cracked in all the wrong places.

You blinked away a light burning in your eye, refusing to meet your dragon by the eyes.

Your heart twinged, ruffled and upset as you were all at once confronted with the reality that you really had been abandoned, though it wasn't as bitter a fruit knowing that it had been, in part, your fault.

“So, you said these scales are on sale?” You cleared your throat, turning back towards the stall with the full intent to ignore the thing as you would a stranger, which it might have very well been.

“Which would you recommend?” Your eyes refused to focus as you blocked it out of your mind, refusing to acknowledge the faces or manners of any of the people around you.

It was because of that that you just nearly missed him, approaching down the path to your left, once again clad in dark gray and brown leather.

“Oh, hello, Hiccup!” You called.

“You’re trembling,” Hiccup noted with surprise in his voice as you approached.

“It’s been a while since I rode a dragon,” You admitted balefully, as the two of you strode towards Toothless’ saddle.

Even before, when you had just gotten yours, you’d had a hard time learning to love being up in the sky. But you pushed through it, because it was what Hiccup loved, and because it was getting to a point where you needed a dragon in order to keep up with everyone else.

You never did talk to anyone about how much it terrified you.

“Will you be alright?”

You nodded hesitantly, though privately you weren’t so sure, your heart beating like a drum.

Hiccup sighed, “We’re just headed to the sea stacks, right?”

“Yeah,” You took a few hesitant, shaking breaths before swinging yourself up on the saddle behind Hiccup, who looked back at you, securing his helmet as if he thought it might be better that he leave you behind, as if you might shatter at the slightest breeze.

“Thanks for taking me,” You looked away, ears burning shamefully. The things you could forage for on Berk weren’t cutting it. You needed the extra coin.

You jolted suddenly as you took off, alarm racing up and down your spine as you pressed yourself flush to Hiccup. You kept your eyes as straight ahead as possible, knowing that looking down, at the disappearing dow of Berk in the distance, would be your downfall.

You noticed Hiccup kept close to the ocean floor, guiding Toothless only just high enough to cleanly avoid the ocean waves below.

Past the wind rushing through your hair, the pressure plugging your eardrums and the sound of Toothless’ wings beating through the air, you realized that this wasn’t so bad.

Eventually your breathing evened and you were able to loosen up to some degree.

You leaned your head against his neck, arms relaxing slightly around your torso though your front stayed no less melded to his back.

You noticed the two of you had wandered all the way down, strolling the boundary between grazing fields, dotted by sheep, and the closer line of houses to your right.

You were still a slight bit shaken, though you’d made it back with all of your things intact plus extra, which was alright enough.

Hiccup looked back and forth, at where your hut ended just beyond the Great Hall, probably wondering if he should have been the one to walk you back instead.

“I don’t eat down at the hall much,” You looked back, keeping the silent ‘or ever’ to yourself.

“Well, I can understand why,” Hiccup looked to the side, voice sardonic, as the two of you, from a distance, watched Tuffnut and Snotlout wrestling for a plated chicken leg. You weren’t sure how they got so far out from the Great Hall so quickly. As far as you were aware, they didn’t serve food this early.

“Would you?” He asked.

Snotlout was able to pin Tuffnut to the ground, about to take a bit from the leg in his meaty grasp before Tuffnut basked him over the back of his head with the empty plate.

The other Riders were sat around him at the high table.

Hiccup seemed uncomfortable sitting up on the elevated platform reserved for the Chief and company by the forefront of the Great Hall. Out of place. Not quite like he was in shoes he hadn’t grown into yet, as was the saying, but more as if he was standing in front of a pair of shoes that did not belong to him at all.

You asked yourself if he might be more comfortable down with the common folk.

You sent him a small wave just as the two of you met eyes, Hiccup at once sending a complimentary quirk of the lips back.

You came.

It took you a few days to get there, but eventually you worked up the courage to make it down and to sidle around the heavily concentrated group of Vikings in the open floor of the hall.

Just as I promised.

You gave him a half-smile, lifting a spoon of stew to your mouth. It had been a while since you had tasted something from the hall. You had to admit it was a taste that you couldn’t replicate, not that you tried. You weren’t sure whether or not it was something you liked.

A crowd of Vikings obscured your vision as they walked past, large mugs and plates in hand.

You stared down at your bowl of stew and the thin slice of bread on the place beside it, wondering if all of this was worth it.

You were surprised when Hiccup settled down in front of you, startling you out of your own musings, plate of his own in hand.

You peered round him, back at the table to see the rest of the Riders and Gobber back up on the podium. They seemed just as equally confused.

“What brings you down here?” You got the vague idea that it was expected, though not a requirement of the Chief, for Hiccup to sit up by the front table. Something about establishing authority and basking in the attention or something before it wore off, you didn’t care.

It didn’t seem like something Hiccup was interested in, anyways.

“What, no ‘hello?’”

“Nope,” You popped the ‘p’ as Hiccup pulled out his journal from under his arm, settling it on the table to his side. You stared at brown leather and at all the small bits of parchment sticking out the sides.

“Let me see,” You said,

“You sure?” Hiccup asked with a crooked smile.

You nodded, beckoning him over to your side of the table, craning your neck as he laid the book out in front of you and settled down besides.

“What’s that?” You pointed downwards, as he began flipping through the pages.

“What, this?”

You hummed, “No, go back.”

Hiccup blinked, and you saw the minor realization wash over his face before he flipped back the page almost reluctantly, revealing a messily sketched out crack in the earth and a crude map of the archipelago with a bunch of x-es littering random regions over the sea.

“Do you mind if I…?”

He shook his head no, handing over his notebook as you pushed aside your stew.

You read over some of the notes to the side, furrowing your brow.

“The Caldera,” You said, remembering the old wives tale.

“Yeah,” Hiccup rubbed his neck, “I didn’t mean for you to see it, but what do you think?”

“There’s something about it, I don’t know,” You said, shrugging, “It would be really nice.”

Hiccup scrubbed his neck embarrassedly, “It’s just a fantasy I have sometimes.”

“Is that why you spent so much time wandering?” You nodded your head, taking a sip from the large mug in front of you with hunched shoulders, “It would make a great discovery.”

Hiccup nodded.

You got it. It was unbelievably unrealistic, but that was probably the point. It was something for him to chase after even after everything else became unfamiliar. There was something charming about its unattainability, in a way.

Mead. Maybe it was a comfort you yourself craved.

You barely paid attention as you filled your mug and his, watching as, across the hall and through warm and bustling bodies, Hiccup and Astrid spoke.

It was with all of the passion of a newly split couple. Though you couldn’t hear everything, you could see the meaningful tilt of Hiccup’s brown, the way his shoulders only moved when he spoke about something worthwhile, and the emotive movement of his hands.

They were leaning close together by a gaggle of the others, speaking in whispers. It was probably nothing of consequence to you. She was, still, his right hand woman.

But he looked at her like she hung the stars and wove this very Earth, hanging on to her every word, no matter the severity or banality.

You downed a mug, mead dripping down the corner of your chin. You wiped it off with your chin, lamenting and then going after another. It would take quite a great deal for you to get drunk.

You watched as Astrid walked away, back turned to Hiccup, her side exposed to you, and took note of the way, mouth open as if to speak, he reached out slightly, like he might be able to pull her back by some invisible string.

Your heart beat against itself, rhythm as loud and violent to your ears as the crashing waves outside down by the coast. You ignored it, tucking it away like a book under your pillow in the dark of night.

You furrowed your brows, picking up another mug and filling it to the brim. It was only considerate, if you were going to drink.

Your arms were full of mugs by the time you thought to wander back, balanced unevenly in your arms. He might need it just as bad as you did.

You’d stumbled back to Hiccup’s hut in the dark, chuckling and laughing like a pair who didn’t want to do much besides forget the world around you.

There was something tense in the air between the two of you despite the physical closeness. You weren’t quite sure when or how the two of you had fallen into each other, or why you thought this was a good idea.

You gasped through the press of lips and the taste of ale on tongue, backed up against a wooden wall, head pressed back against the hard, uneven surface.

You pulled apart, and Hiccup leaned forwards to rest his forehead against the wall by your head, panting in your ear.

You weren’t sure who you’d slept with and who you hadn’t. Many drunk nights at the Hall, sneaking large mugs of ale and mead into your small, lonely corner meant many mornings slung over beds in houses you weren’t familiar with. Being so disconnected meant it was easy for you to slip out and away without anyone noticing.

But you knew you were here, and you were here now.

You slipped your knee between his legs. He ground down on it.

Your undergarments were up to scratch this time, though you weren’t sure if you needed them.

You felt the rise and quell of feeling and emotion and dead conversation. You searched for something to say, something to soothe, to matter or to not in a way that mattered the way someone did when they knew they weren't great, but wanted to be.

He looked exhausted. Tired from hours on his feet, time he wasn’t allowed to spend alone and a while too long throwing ideas on building, automatic tailfins and infrastructure between the two of you.

Guilt curled around like a tiny worm in your stomach. It was the same feeling you got falling from a high place, the same kind you avoided every time you saw a dragon take off into the air.

You pondered if you should ask, wondering if it was fair to want him to take the first step or back away, hands drifting back and forth underwater.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” He said, and you weren’t sure why.

You tilted your head, sitting across from Hiccup in the same spring from before. His calf was pressed between your ankles, brushing over scar tissue as Hiccup sandwiched your left ankle between that and his other leg.

“Me too.” You were sorry, for taking up his time and his space, when all he wanted was something else. You thought he might rather be alone. If that was the case, you knew you would go.

Calves and ankles pressed together, shifting against each other under the water testingly.

Your face was red, heated by steam. Hiccup looked the same.

You scooted closer. Hiccup shifted forwards on his arms, leaning nearer to you.

You weren’t sure where you stood, since the night you spent together. You didn’t know if it meant anything or not, if it was a tryst born from your interest or Hiccup’s want to forget Astrid. You couldn’t remember.

But.

“Is it…?” He asked, eyes half-lidded.

You drifted forwards, standing up in the spring and met him the rest of the way, thighs slotted together.

Your arms were braced on either side of him underwater, palms resting on the smooth ledge surface.

Hiccup rested his hand on your arm, the other by your waist.

There were too many things between the two of you that went left unsaid. You hoped that one day you’d be able to say them.

“A-ash…” He breathed into your mouth.

You half-slid, half-climbed down the rocky cliffside, grinning to yourself as Hiccup jogged after, falling slightly behind your enthusiasm.

To be honest, you weren’t so sure about sharing this secret with Hiccup. It felt weighty, like you were putting it to bed somehow and you weren’t sure you liked that, not ready to give up your reprieve.

It was private to you, but also, maybe it would be worth it, to share something so nice with someone else. There was a low chance he hadn’t seen it yet anyways. Soon, the others would find out and all the other Vikings would start funneling in, you were sure.

You slid to a stop just barely in time, backtracking with your arms out, stumbling back-first into Hiccup.

The two of you fell backwards, Hiccup falling into a set of bushes stationed behind you.

“Oh, ow,”

“Are you alright?” You asked him, as you separated, quickly scooting over and peering down at him as he pulled himself from the fanning ferns.

The two of you were surrounded by rocks and fauna, world dark and blue in a way that felt fresh and new and freeing.

This ledge was one that was difficult to get to unless you knew the way, which you won through hard-earned practice and exploration.

The grass under you was cold, and wet from dew, But that was one of the many things you ceased to notice once you peered over the edge, at the beginning of a beautiful flickering.

“I’m alright,” Hiccup smiled, rubbing his head. You tried to look around him as if you might be able to see the back of it from the angle you were sitting.

“Look,” You pointed forwards with a breathy grin, as Hiccup settled himself beside you, your legs hanging limply over the side of the clifface.

He followed your direction, and he breathed. You could see the exact moment he looked down into the waters, calmer than they should be, always seeming flat and unassuming in this area.

You watched him focus, taken in by the mesmerizing sight.

Tiny dragons lit up the sea below, blinking pale pinks and greens and blues under the shifting water, looking very much like small, twinkling gems by the sand.

It was what you assumed was a mix between the glowing algae left over from the Flightmare’s time in the archipelago and the new, different kinds of dragons flooding Berk.

The two of you relaxed into the scene, calming in a way you were hard pressed to calm anywhere else. Maybe you had made the right call.

It was a while before either of you would break the silence

“I…” Hiccup started, he looked at you with open eyes, “I…”

You perked up slightly, turning your head by the most minute degree, watching him from the corner of your eye. You waited, giving him time to articulate himself.

“...I miss…”

His eyes twinkled, lights dancing in the shine of them, moving back and forth with the lights below. You softened in them, twisting so you were looking at him directly.

You wondered what he missed. You wondered if it was something to quell or nurture the beating blooming jittering feeling growing in your chest.

“Them,” Hiccup said finally, lamely, before stopping, leaning against your shoulder.

At the last moment, he looked away, pulling his hands off the ground and you read something a little like shame on his face as he said it, or on as much face as you could see, carefully tilted away from you.

You were sure you knew who, or whom he meant.

You remembered how he looked at Astrid the other night as she walked away. How something in his eyes just seemed to storm.

You remember how glum he was, still was, after the passing of his father, tall and mighty in a way that seemed to make him immortal.

You were glad. Just glad, and disappointed, in equal measure. But also you also couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that he hadn’t said something else.

You leaned back with equal weight onto his shoulder, though instead of feeling any sort of the warmth or amity you should have felt- or peace, like you usually did, staring down at the swirling lights, dancing with the currents- you just felt empty.

You took in the rustling of leaves behind you, the chittering and splashing of small dragons as they leapt out of the water, filling the air below with a colorful, glowing spray. Anything but the man besides you. The Chief, now.

“I know.”

#not an exact fill but close enough #no clinginess sorry could not work it in #how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #toothless #httyd imagine #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #gender neutral reader

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starstruckmoony · 1 year

Text

enchanted.

masterlist

pairing - theodore nott x reader

summary - a cute guy stumbles into the coffee shop you work at and it alters your brain chemistry.

trope/tags - coffee shop!au, modern!au, college!au, muggle!au, out of pocket headcanons

word count - 6.5k

warnings - language, smoking, mentions of sex, light smut-ish (not really)

"get a job at a coffee shop", they said.

"i'll be fun", they said.

bollocks.

working at a café as busy as the three broomsticks certainly had its perks, if you could say so yourself, but it definitely had some godawful cons in the bunch and was terribly annoying in itself. the shop was located in one of the most bustling parts of london, not very far away from a university campus, which meant that one could easily make out the atmosphere inside of it without having to step through the door. it was always filled to the brim with students who all relied on caffeine for survival, many of which you would usually avoid even glancing at during lessons. so between your utterly unendurable acquaintances, occasional out-of-control children, and middle-aged ladies who criticized your every move and complained about their lattes being zero point four degrees too hot, you weren't sure which one irked you more.

your job was barely tolerable, but it wasn't like you had many other options laid out in the first place. you needed the money and you swore to do whatever it takes to pay for your tuition and heaps of other costs that came in the package with it. you went into it with very little enthusiasm, but nevertheless settled for working as a barista, as much as you were dreading the thought of it.

your shift started of normally that day. you were busy serving one of your least favorite friendly customers in world, draco bloody malfoy, and fighting a tempting urge to dunk the drink in your hand all over him. the two of you went way back, there was lots of resentment, some unresolved negative feelings and grudges about situations you could barely remember clearly. primary school, the darkest years of your lives. neither of you bothered much to fix your shitshow of a relationship. you were schoolmates who were sort of friends who didn't like each other very much. he was nice to you when he didn't have a stick up his arse, but he always had stick up his arse. pansy (who was also your coworker) declared you frenemies, and she was sort of onto something.

despite all that dirt, finding him in the shop wasn't an unusual occurrence, and you never got used to his annoying presence or the way your skin literally crawled just seeing him walk through the door. although, you had to admit that you were pretty grateful when he brought his hot beautiful handsome please snog me sir friend with him for some coffee that sunny friday.

"good morning." draco greeted his friend absentmindedly and gave him a short-lived glance before continuing the deadly staredown you two were having. keeping things professional with that little arsehole was a tough challenge. pansy nudged you behind the counter, and then very subtly motioned over to the handsome bloke next your nemesis when you finally gave her some attention.

"did you not order for me?" the guy questioned in disappointment, seeing that only a single cup of coffee was sitting on the counter. one good look at him was all it took for you to realise why pansy was so eager to get you to heed her observations. you sucked in a breath, focus.

"no? do i look like a maid to you?" draco spat, taking a loud, annoying slurp of his freshly-made cappuccino. he scowled in disgust, making your eyes roll backwards into your brain. the man always managed to find something wrong with his order. this time, the stupid drink of his didn't have enough sweetener. his friend coughed to cover up a chuckle.

"i will be filing a complaint." he declared, sitting back and crossing his arms.

"shove it up your arse, hm?" you offered him the fakest, most poisonous smile you could muster, turning to his attractive friend who's order you had to take. he gave draco a rather aggressive shove before he was able to open his mouth again, and then smiled at you sympathetically.

"i admire your patience." he was speaking to you, but even the most oblivious of people would realise that he took a subtle jab at draco. he looked a bit offended, "what the fuck, theo?" just like that, you got his name without even having to ask for it. today must have been your lucky day.

"tell me about it. if throwing drinks into people's faces wasn't listed as strictly forbidden in my job description, i'd be thriving." you responded without thinking, regretting it the moment you spoke. you could only hope that he would take your awful joke well because receiving a judgemental stare and no response at all was the last thing you'd have asked for that morning. but your thoughtlessness did pull something that sounded like a laugh out of theo, and he appeared to be pretty satisfied.

you suddenly felt hot. a handsome guy just laughed at your joke made at his best friend's expense? it made your heart flutter a little bit, kind of like everything else about him. you sighed inwardly, it was totally unfair that somebody as insufferable as draco got his eyes blessed by that man's presence every day.

"am i allowed to order or will you threaten to throw coffee in my face, too?" theo snapped you back to reality. you heard pansy snicker at your awkward stance before she continued talking to draco who got bored of tolerating your abuses and resorted to flirting with her instead. the pretty boy bit back a laugh once he noticed the way your cheeks turned pink. you wished for the earth to swallow you whole.

"yes, of course! sorry, uh, what would you like?" you put on a professional smile, yet you felt like he saw right through you. he was doing things to you by just simply being there. you already knew pansy was going to have a jolly good time teasing you about this.

"uh," his eyes trailed over to the menu on the wall. he looked completely and utterly clueless, but after a moment of silence, he made up his mind, "one black coffee..." he responded a bit uncertainly, as if he was afraid that you were gonna judge his choice of beverage.

"see why i don't order for you?" draco threw a crumpled up receipt into theo's face. you wondered how he managed to be so unphased by it.

"one black coffee?" you queried just to confirm his order, pretending not to notice pansy who's mischievous eyes were set on you. that, and the constant comments she was making about how cute you and theo would look together. you were surprised when draco didn't disagree like the snobby little hipster he was and then call her batshit crazy. maybe magic was real.

"yes." theo cleared his throat, slumping down onto a barstool three seats away from draco. next level damage control. when he found a smoking allowed sign on the wall, he immediately lit a cigarette.

"oh, thank god." you mumbled in relief. theo stared you in amusement, with a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. if you hadn't met in the middle of a crowded café, you would have kissed him then there. these days, people tend to forget that plain coffee is, in fact, a thing. that in itself isn't so bad, no, but it's pretty horrible for a coffee shop worker who has to balance time spent on making a drink while also satisfying everybody else at the tables. maintaining your sanity was another thing you had to dedicate yourself to, especially with having draco coming in every day.

you quickly got to work, hyperfocusing on the task at hand for the first time in a while - all that in a poor attempt to ignore the way that blush kept creeping up your cheeks. that wasn't the first time you had laid your eyes on a handsome guy at work. many good looking blokes had set their foot into the café, but you rarely ever let it get to you. they would come and go, simple as that. but there was something about the way theo was looking at you that made you feel unbearably giddy, and you were having a hard time keeping your thoughts from going places.

you were too busy preparing his coffee and trying to remain calm to see the way he shyly kept stealing glances at you. he was enthralled, to say the least, and he could not fathom the fact that you were that person draco always complained about. it was impossible. not only did you make him laugh literally ten seconds after he spoke to you for the first time, but your strange relationship with his friend was quite intriguing. and pretty hilarious, if he could say so himself. something was pushing him to find out more about you. he could not keep his eyes off of you, and he was deeply regretting all those times he shut draco down when he suggested they got coffee together. he'd even offer to pay each time, which theo only found more off-putting. the concept of being so nice and inviting was usually unfamiliar to the blonde, but theo eventually guessed that he had his own reasons and motivations for showing up everyday.

you whipped up his coffee in no time, shooting pansy with a death glare because of the way she wiggled her eyebrows at you. you placed the cup in front of him and were thankfully spared of any additional awkwardness when theo grabbed the drink and took a sip. you watched him with burning anticipation in your eyes as he blinked in confusion, "what the fuck are you complaining for?" he turned to a scowling draco who was making sure that everybody knew that he was rather discontented by the way his cappucino was made.

"i have tastebuds." he explained, shooting theo with an aggravated glare. pansy covered her mouth to silence a laugh.

"are they dead?" theo deadpanned.

"are they dead?" draco mocked, and then began sulking like a little child when pansy had to take the order of another customer.

theo turned to you again, "ignore him," he offered you a comforting smile, "this is the best coffee i've had in a while." he took another large sip of the hot drink. a satisfied smirk appeared on your face. draco flipped you both off.

"it's probably the beans," you trailed off, "although, brewing it does require some talent." it was true. pansy herself admitted that you made better coffee than her, multiple times, but that was probably because she proudly half-assed all of her work knowing that it won't cost her much. it helped you out tremendously when you had nothing else to brag about.

thoughtlessly, you continued speaking to theo, completely forgetting that your shift had not yet come to an end, and that you had well over two hours of work left. theo possessed the power to snap you back to reality, but was even more skillfull at pulling you out of it. your mind fully dismissed where you were. you learned a few things about him; he lived with draco, enzo and mattheo, who you got to meet after blaise and pansy dragged you to a random nightclub not so long ago. he had a persian cat who he named 'cat' because he wasn't creative enough to come up with anything that hit the spot and lorenzo made a pledge to make fun of him for it till the day they both die. he liked black coffee only, and no it was not a metaphore for the colour of his soul or some out of pocket bullshit that you heard way too often for comfort, he was just that basic. insane too, as he didn't put any sugar in it. you missed the basic, though, and it was a nice breather from all the ridiculousness you had to deal with on a day to day basis. he also happened to have seen your favourite movie, and that opened the door to about ten other conversation topics that you could go on about for hours upon hours. you were so immersed in the discussion that neither of you realised draco left, with pansy's number (which he finally acquired after three months of asking for it) written down somewhere in his notebook.

the sound of a stranger's throat clearing stopped you mid sentence, and you were rudely reminded that you were still at work, with lots of drinks to prepare, and many more customers to serve. curse them, whoever they were. they were practically forcing you to get theo's contact information, which would have been totally fine if it wasn't for the thought of rejection that was tearing your insides up into pieces.

you and theo offered some empty words of apology to the older man who pulled you out of your own little world and returned you to the misery that was present day. you sighed, exchanging a longing glance with the boy in front of you as if you hadn't just talked to him casually for twenty whole mintues, all while the line was gradually growing. not to mention that you both had places to be.

"here," theodore stuffed a hand into the pocket of his coat, pulling out what looked like twenty quid and sliding in front of you. you opened the cash register to fish out the amount of money you were supposed to give back to him, but he shook his head. there was no way in hell he was leaving that big of a tip. or maybe he was. you not only spent almost half an hour making his day better, but he liked your coffee so much you had to make him three, one being on the house.

you let out a laugh of surprise at the serious expression on his face, silently wishing for him to walk out and retrieve the money like any sane person would. at that point, just simply being graced by his presence was more than enough. you didn't even want the damn tip. your thoughts caused an onset of panic to flow through you. you weren't thinking straight at all.

"thank you." you spoke finally, contemplating whether you should ask him for his number or not. pansy's look of anticipation seemed to be heading in the exact direction you were most terrified of. thank god theo was being a wuss too.

"i'll see you around." he smiled as he made his way over to the exit, and you nodded enthusiastically, giving him a small wave as he stepped through the door and out into the streets.

you sighed when he finally disappeared out of your line of sight, failing to notice the way a few of the customers waiting in line were holding back their giggles after having witnessed the whole commotion. you weren't sure if you wanted to fly around like happy little fairy or burst into a million pieces and disappear off the face of the earth, but you knew that you were very spontaneously falling for theo and there was no going back.

***

a few weeks had gone by since theodore first came into the three broomsticks. and many things changed, one being that you began looking forward to coming into that hellhole which was a 'goal' rotting away somewhere in the far bottom of your bucket list. you'd never been more happy having to wake up at seven in the bloody morning to grind coffee beans and serve annoying londoners. it was laughable how you jumped from hating your job to getting excited by the thought of showing up to work. life was indeed full of surprises.

theo made sure to come in every morning (or afternoon, depending when you had your shift), and would always stay much longer than he intended, or so he told himself. he was awful at balancing university and personal life, but he was willing to make some sacrifices for you, even if it meant that he had to endure some never-ending teasing from his friends. blaise came in from time to time to enjoy the show live, mattheo called him a softie, enzo thought the whole thing was too hilarious to be real, and draco was giving him the cold shoulder (lovingly).

"oi!" pansy nudged you with her elbow. you were just about to brush her off as you were busy with the ice dispenser, but when she motioned with her head towards the door, your breath hitched.

theodore stepped through the entrance, and he somehow looked even prettier than he was when you saw him yesterday. you swiftly whipped up the order that you were working on and bid the customer goodbye when they confirmed that their to-go macchiato was perfectly made.

he smiled at you as he took a seat at his usual spot, and you grinned back in response before returning to work. it was awfully difficult not to lose focus when he was sitting there looking like a god sent gift, and you were getting frustrated with yourself. you could see pansy smirking at you in the corner of your eye, and you groaned quietly as you began working on another drink.

you were starting to get very impatient while you were busy with the other customers, but after making several cappuccinos and dealing with an angry man who's twelve espresso shot latte was too bitter, you finally got to speak to theo.

"hello." a greeting. a bloody greeting was all it took to make you blush furiously. you mentally applauded yourself with some heavy sarcasm. you were doing a great job at not being obvious.

"hi." you responded breathlessly, making him chuckle at your rather dishevelled state. pansy was having a very difficult time trying to stifle her laughter, but she remained professional and continued helping her costumer.

"so, i've been thinking...today." he cleared his throat, wiping the sweat on his palms on his black jeans.

"okay," you chuckled, "i'm listening." you tilted your head to the side slightly, curious to see what he had to offer. you hoped it's what you thought it was, but you didn't want to get excited too early. for all you know, he could be asking you for a favour or help to sort him a working spot at the café itself.

"right," he looked a bit uncertain. he gulped, hesitating before letting his words form decently, "my roommates are having a movie night and i'm not exactly sure what they have in mind, but that's besides the point," he rambled, letting out a displeased huff. something was definitely wrong with him today. when he went over this with mattheo, it seemed incredibly easy, but now that he was going through with it, he felt as if his downfall was inevitable, "i was wondering if you wanted to join us." he forced a smile, the internal prayer of please say yes was becoming so loud his thoughts became clouded. it's not like he couldn't handle rejection. frankly, he was fairly good at it and rarely ever let it touch his ego, but not in situations like these. not when he was actually falling in love and able to picture his life with somebody.

you weren't sure if it was possible for your cheeks to get any more red than they already were, but you quickly learned the harsh truth when you heard draco snort rather loudly.

you weren't that shocked by theo's suggestion, no, but it seemed to good to be true. so good that you had to pinch your arm behind the counter where he couldn't see it to make sure you weren't dreaming. he silently panicked for a moment, but when he saw the lovestruck expression on your face, he turned red himself. he sort of bid farewell to his intimidating, mysterious persona the moment he first met you, too enthralled to try and keep it up, and this was barely what was left of it. it was long gone. draco wished he had brought a camera with him.

"of course, i'd love to." you responded, without a sign of doubt in your voice. he smiled, breathing out a sigh of relief. he scrunched his face thinking how desperate he must've looked, but nevertheless continued the conversation. the speed with which you accepted his offer made him feel a strong surge of confidence, "when does your shift end?" he questioned as you began preparing his coffee.

"seven, remus is letting us off an hour earlier tonight. he said he had somewhere to be." you looked over at pansy who was giving you a not very subtle thumbs up. you rolled your eyes at her with a stupid grin on your face.

theo felt on top of the world. his eyes never left you, he watched you work, and only got snapped back to reality when pansy addressed him and asked him to close his mouth before he starts drooling all over the counter. he blushed profusely, and you tried not to laugh at him, but failed miserabley when you turned around and handed him his drink.

he groaned and covered his face with his hands, having no other option but to laugh along with you. "you should've seen her face when you came in," pansy winked at you with a mischievous smirk. you kicked her from behind the counter for that comment, and she blew a kiss your way before handing draco his coffee, "you know, nott," she started, pretending like she was thinking about what to say next, you should put that mouth of yours to use soon so she finally shuts up about–" you scrambled to cover her mouth before she could finish that.

"how's your coffee?" you changed the subject, turning to him innocently.

"perfect." he gave you a brief nod, not daring to spare draco or your friend another glance. you yanked your own hand away when pansy licked it, muttering a few curse words as you reached over to the sink to wash her spit off.

you turned to theo with an apologetic smile, making a mental note to murder pansy after your shift, and the two of you held eye contact for what felt like a goddamn hour to all the people impatiently waiting to get served. you simply could not get enough of those beautiful green eyes. they were so, very distracting.

"can you two eye-fuck after i get my overpriced tea?" lorenzo decided to make a surprise (dramatic) appearance. fair point he had there. you scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, and theo only rolled his eyes, wordlessly reaching for a cigarette. that was his one way of dealing with lorenzo.

"are you gonna bring your entire friend group in here or what?" pansy exclaimed in disbelief, thinking she would spot mattheo sitting at a table somewhere in the corner.

"i'm not bringing them here, they're following me around like annoying fucking flies." draco jumped to defend himself. the poor guy was never able to escape the countless of false accusations thrown his way. you were loving every bit of it.

"that should tell you something." lorenzo sat himself next to draco. "huh?"

"you smell." he purposefully leaned in too close for comfort, successfully avoiding the harsh shove the blonde was preparing to give him.

"what the fuck, are you five?" draco stared at him with obvious judgement. theo shortly glanced at the pair, and then shifted his full attention back to you. as funny as watching them bicker was, he found you a lot more captivating. and besides, his day was going quite alright (minus pansy's comment about him drooling all over the counter), so he wasn't looking to ruin it by getting involved in playfighting with his idiot friends.

the boys took about an hour to leave, and when they did, they made sure to let you know that theo was going to make you very happy, emphasis on the what's in his pants part. well, lorenzo did, at least, draco wished to leave the moment his friend opened his mouth and started listing all of the reasons why one should date theodore nott.

"and also, he will very much– hey, i'm not done!" theo ignored lorenzo's protests, and proceeded to push him towards the exit with draco on their tail. they all waved you goodbye, although enzo did it quite reluctantly, he wasn't ready to leave yet. theo offered you one last smile before stepping out the door, and you mouthed a quick goodbye, your face redder than ever.

"do you think he's good in bed?" pansy suddenly quipped while she was cleaning up the coffee spilled around the espresso machine. "who?" you shot her with a perplexed glare. you were not about to have this conversation with her.

"draco." she said it as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

"good god," you mumbled to yourself. at least she wasn't trying to get you to talk about theodore, "i don't know and i don't want to know."

"hm," she stared at nothing while she spoke, "i wonder if that's how he gets all his anger out." she said thoughtfully before shrugging it off like she didn't just make you picture the most atrocious thing known to man. you never wished for theo to be there more so he could save you from whatever grotesque form of nightmare that was, and you certainly hoped that pansy wasn't going to attempt to test out her little theory tonight, as draco had invited her over in the meantime, too.

***

patienece was something you heavily managed to work on while working at three broomsticks, and you could say that you had successfully mastered the art of it in your four months spent there. you could also say that meeting theo was the biggest fuck you to all of the progress you had made.

the remaining two hours of your shift ended up turning into what felt like an eternity of torture. pansy had to keep a careful eye on you, a bit mortified that you might just strike an innocent customer. if looks could kill, yours definitely would. you best believe she told draco about that.

it wasn't all so sullen, though. your misery did not last forever. at last, the clock struck seven. but there was one thing you did not consider when you thoughtlessly agreed to show up at theo's place at eight, and that was that you'd have a little over thirty minutes to make yourself look presentable. the moment your shift ended, you sprinted to the staff room to collect your things, gave pansy a clumsy hug, and left the shop light speed.

you always felt incredibly lucky that your dormitory facility was very close to your workplace, but today that feeling was extraordinarily more intense. you made it there in less than five minutes, cursing the out of order elevator and swiftly climbing up the stairs to third floor where you were situated.

you burst through the door, out of breath, immediately ridding of your clothes and disappearing inside your tiny bathroom. you couldn't recall the last time you took a shower so quickly. not even ten minutes later, you were back inside of your room, rummaging through your dresser in search of something cute to wear. it was rather sad that you just then noticed that hermione, your trusted roommate, was not there. she stuck a post it note to her headboard, explaining that ron's parents invited her over for dinner and that she'll be spending the night at his place. just when you needed her, she wasn't there.

"fuck." you cursed, continuing to ransack the drawers of your small commode. trousers were out the window. the best pair you owned was in the wash, the other three were an immediate no. you weren't sure what the dress code for a movie night was, exactly, but wearing your over-the-top fake leather trousers did seem like a bit much. maybe that should have been your sign to get some new ones.

you yanked the bottom drawer open and managed to dig up some clean socks and a large jumper (one that you weren't even certain was yours), and when you couldn't find your favourite sweatpants, you snatched a pair of jeans from hermione's closet. you could only hope that they would keep you comfortable for however long that little movie marathon was going to last.

you shuffled the clothes on, you didn't have enough time to try on anything else, and quickly did your make up just so you looked a bit more presentable. bless pansy and her patience when she was helping you step up your eyeliner game. you took a few improvised mirror selfies to send to her, emotional support and all that, grabbed your coat, slid your old low docs on, and bolted out the door.

it had begun to get dark before you even stepped outside, and with the sun disappearing behind the horizon, it got colder, too. you were very happy that the boys' flat wasn't located too far away from your dormitories, and you could make it there in about ten minutes if you tried hard enough. good thing you knew the address, as you had the displeasure of having to visit draco a couple of times when you got assigned to work on a project together. he always made sure that his friends were out whenever you showed up there. you were hoping that your experience would be a little better this time, but you didn't worry much. you were going there for theo, so how bad could that really go?

you didn't even want to think of it as you stepped in front of the entrance of their flat, and pressed your finger to the doorbell to alert them that you'd made it. mattheo opened the door for you and grinned like an idiot, very obviously trying his hardest to fight away his inner demons that were pushing him to crack some stupid joke on your and theo's account.

"do not." you threatened, and he raised his hands up in defeat, moving out of the way and letting you walk through the door. he waited for you to kick your shoes off, and then politely led you further inside, no unnecessary comments made.

you didn't expect the boys to make it all look so comfortable, but you had to admit that you had underestimated them. they brought out some extra pillows so that whoever sits on the floor doesn't leave with sore buttocks, fluffy blankets with star wars patterns, an old beanbag, lots of different food to choose from, and a crate of beer shoved under the table. huh, you could definitely see yourself enjoying that.

draco, unsurprisingly, didn't say hello when you stepped into the living room, but lorenzo offered you a different kind of greating.

"theo, your girlfriend's here!" he announced, loud enough for the neighbours on the fifth floor to hear.

"piss off, enzo!" theo yelled from what you assumed was his bedroom, and then stepped out a few seconds later, flipping lorenzo off when he wiggled his eyebrows. what a child. he grabbed a hold of theo's wrist and kissed the offending finger.

"good evening to you too." you gave him a pointed look, letting out a noise of surprise when theo took a gentle hold of your hand and led you to the couch. he mumbled something along the lines of, "you look pretty", and you offered him a smile in response, not willing to attract any more attention. draco had already claimed the spot sofa, explaining that he and nobody else is allowed there, so the two of you settled on the floor without a fight, sitting so close your shoulders were touching.

pansy showed up not very long after you, and lorenzo was more than happy to have the long awaited movie marathon finally start. it didn't go down without bickering, obviously, and after twenty excruciating minutes of arguing if you should watch notting hill, poltergeist or fight club, pansy grabbed the remote and put on 10 things i hate about you. nobody really complained.

you and theo managed to avoid the hand accidentally touches hand part of sharing a bowl of popcorn, but then your legs somehow tangled under the blankets and neither of you bothered to move or apologise.

in the meantime, lorenzo shifted from his chair to the beanbag mattheo was in, and had the other cuddle him against his own will. not like he actually minded. it was a miracle that thing was big enough, one wrong move and they'd both be on the floor along with their bags of funny-flavoured crisps.

the beloved rom-com felt like it came to an end sooner than it started, and you were all already arguing on what to watch next. mattheo took the advantage to grab the remote when draco reached over to hit lorenzo, and clicked on dirty dancing without asking for a second opinion. two romance movies in a row. somebody was out to get you. draco groaned in protest, but pansy gave him a kick to shut him up. yes, he let her sit on the couch with him, but her, and her only.

halfway through, you felt theo shift next to you, and not long after, he threw an arm around your shoulders, nervously holding you before relaxing when you didn't move away. you smiled to yourself and shuffled closer, the warmth radiating from his body was addicting. you could get used to it. the thought of pulling away seemed ludicrously dreadful and the concept of time became unfamiliar.

you only realised how long you had been squashed together when it hit you that the second movie was coming to an end, too. there were barely twenty minutes left, and you felt your eyes beginning to flutter shut. not because you were bored, you were just simply exhausted. theo quickly noticed, and he let you lay your head on his shoulder, but falling asleep was the last thing you wanted to do.

"god, i could really use a coffee right now." you groaned and you rubbed at your eyes, covering your mouth as you yawned. you needed a little something to keep you awake, and your trusted caffeine would surely do the job.

"come on, i'll make you some." theo stood, helping you up and not letting go of your hand as you made your way towards the kitchen. mattheo questioned where you were going, and nodded skeptically after receiving a short response. the other three didn't care, either too immersed into the movie or occupied with other things.

you took a seat on the counter next to theo where he opened the cupboards, his eyes searching for whichever form of caffeine they had left in there. he pulled out a half empty jar of instant coffee, and looked at you unsurely, unknowing whether you'd want to drink it or not.

"just make me whatever, it's fine." you waved a dismissive hand, and he gave you a quick nod before getting to work. not that it took much effort.

it was almost done in an instant, hence the name. you didn't mind, though, coffee was coffee, and coffee could never be bad. although, you weren't really paying attention to what he was doing, a little too busy staring at his face to notice anything else.

"tell me if it's horrible." he said as he handed you the hot drink. you hopped off the counter and thanked him before you pressed the mug to your lips and took a tiny sip. you tried not to grimace, and politely took another one. it was not good.

"it's good." you choked out, holding back a cough and forcing a supportive smile. theo didn't look very convinced, you doubted he was, and he took a step closer, like he was about to confront you about your little white lie.

"be honest." he sighed, yet there was a sort of menace behind the disappointed look on his face.

"it's terrible." you failed to hold back a snicker, feeling a little sorry that his coffee tasted just that bad. he was lucky you had some tips up your sleeve, "it's so bad, what did you–" to say that you were absolutely flabbergasted when he kissed you would be an understatement. you didn't push him away, nor did you resist, you were simply too shocked to react.

you laughed in surprise when he pulled back, your jaw hanging open slightly. then he leaned in again, but you had enough time to react this time, so you kissed him back, despite feeling a bit lightheaded by it all. it was one of the strangest situations you had found yourself in in a long time, but were enjoying every little bit of it.

"i literally just criticized your–" he quickly hushed you, going in for another kiss. you giggled against his lips and set the cofee mug aside, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting your hand tangle his locks. theo could fucking collapse. there was something about the way you grabbed his hair, something that made him see colours he didn't even know existed. you weren't oblivious enough to miss the way he reacted, pressing his body closer to yours and tightening his grip around you, so you did it again, smirking in satisfaction when it drew a pleasant sound of approval from him.

his tongue brushed over your bottom lip, and you let out a tiny noise of surprise, feeling your knees buckle. without dwelling on it, you opened your mouth, and when his tongue touched your own, you gasped, maybe even whimpered, accidentally pulling on his hair a bit too harshly. theo didn't seem to mind. he grunted in response, you were making him forget that there was nothing but a wall separating you from your friends.

"you just missed the best– oh, fuck, my bad, continue please, sorry!" mattheo disappeared as fast as he appeared, his footsteps followed by laughter and the end credits of dirty dancing which got increasingly louder. courtesy of draco turning it up to drown out any unholy noises he suspected might come from the kitchen after seeing the look mattheo's face.

you pulled away from each other, too flustered to even laugh, your lips swollen and cheeks pink. theo's grip on your waist loosened, and you relaxed your arms, but still didn't pull them away from where they were wrapped around his neck. he leaned his forehead against yours, uneven breaths fanning over your lips.

"uh," you started, as speechless as he was, "have i mentioned that my dorm was empty for the night?"

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