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floralseokjin · 4 years ago

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⤑ made-up love song vi (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, smut; basically a montage of the sex they’ve been having during the rest of the summer lol, they can’t keep their hands off one another, seokjin’s mouth gets progressively dirtier as time goes on, he also gets strategic with condom storage, smut includes; 69, face riding, condomless sex, creampie, biting, (light) spanking, there’s cute things too, like arin’s birthday party and oc meeting his parents words; 12,064

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You spent the whole of Sunday in bed – which you thought was Seokjin’s plan all along, only finding your way downstairs to eat, and even then he couldn’t keep his hands off you for long enough. (Not that you minded.) He was making the most of it, he told you, before he had to leave you for work. That, and he was waving goodbye to his celibacy the right way… Despite your snort, you understood what he meant. You had fun familiarising yourself with the wonders of sex again… Miraculously blessed with an abundance of energy. Although, when it came to Seokjin, how could you even think about resisting him?! You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. And neither could he…

“Mmm. What time is it?” You asked Monday morning, voice heavy with sleep, eyes still closed as you heard Seokjin’s alarm go off. He stirred beside you, sitting up to knock the device off before burrowing back under the covers to wrap his arms around your naked body.

“Half 6,” he grumbled, mouth pressed against the back of your neck. “I don’t want to work.” With one squeeze to his chest, you felt that very obvious erection of his pressed against your ass. “Can’t I just stay here for the rest of the day? Inside you…”

You giggled, attempting to roll over and face him. A hand cupped your cheek instantly, puffy lips finding yours. Morning Seokjin wasn’t good for your heart. His messy hair flopping over his eyes, pillow marks marring his skin, the slight stubble beginning to grow along his top lip… It was all just so… sexy, and now you were wide awake. Still, some teasing couldn’t be helped.

“We literally spent yesterday all day in bed…”

“Yes, and it was amazing,” he declared. “I’d do it all again today.”

You raised an eyebrow, a palm holding him steady at the waist. “All again? You do realise we still have all week to go, right? I wouldn’t want you to fail on me so soon…”

He huffed out a laugh, fingertips ever so cheekily grazing the underside of your right breast. “You underestimate me…” His voice was still gruff from sleep, it made his words ripple through your body, settling between your legs. “I still have 95% of the condoms to use. So,” he grinned, dipping his head to capture your mouth. “You,” – he rolled you onto your back expertly – “better,” – he kissed your throat – “keep,” – then your cleavage – “ up.” His tongue around your nipple had you gasping out immediately, back arching, wanting more.

Spreading your legs, he nestled in between them easily, the muscles of his meaty thighs protruding as he kneeled up slightly. You gripped them urgently, needing to anchor yourself somehow, knowing what was about to come.

His teeth grazed your nipple as he dragged away, lifting his head up to smirk. “What do you say, baby, one for the road?”

Baby. Yesterday he’d become quite partial to that word, learning quite quickly what it did to you, what effect it had on you. (Yes, a curse word – or two, or more – may have slipped out of you yesterday… He’d won, embarrassingly soon.)

You refrained from rolling your eyes, but still told him to shut up. Two minutes later he was buried inside you making you moan out his name.

It wasn’t even 7am.

When Seokjin finally got off to work (after about a bajillion kisses…), you slipped into the shower, attempting to work it without breaking it. With that successful, you wondered downstairs to make some breakfast. It was strange being inside his house alone. You’d arrived to meet him for lunch early a couple of times, yes, but Misook and Arin had always been there ready to greet you. Today it was just you, playing music as loud as you could just to drown out the deafening silence as pottered about in the kitchen. After eating, you washed the dishes (most leftover from yesterday) in the sink, unsure how to set the dishwasher correctly, and wondered to yourself how Seokjin had managed to cope living here alone before Arin moved in…

You busied yourself with unpacking your case, not having a chance to do it yesterday – too preoccupied – while watching the clock. You had a lunch date with Soojung at half 11. You’d managed to text her a brief reply yesterday but other than that you’d been AWOL. You knew it must’ve been killing her. By the time you met up at the food court, she was frothing at the mouth, desperate for all the details, which you gave to her in hushed whispers over a shared thin crust margherita. You didn’t divulge all though, just enough to keep her nosey butt satisfied.

“This is not fair at all,” she whined. “You were getting dilfed the hell down and I was getting farted on by Tae.”

You laughed, wholly impressed. “You’ve turned it into a verb now? Very creative. I’m so glad to have you as a best friend.”

Although, she wasn’t so happy to have you as one when you confessed to telling Seokjin about his plethora of nicknames…

Seokjin came home a little earlier than you’d expected. After lunch with Soo, you’d popped to the local grocery store, picking up a few things for dinner and then you’d sat in front of the television for the afternoon. It wasn’t the most productive day you’d had by any means, but you felt contented, excited to greet Seokjin after his long day at work. You were in the kitchen, beginning to prepare dinner when you heard his voice.

“Honey?” Before you had time to reply, he was calling your name, closer down the hallway. “Y/N? Where are you?”

“Kitchen,” you called back.

You weren’t looking when he entered, back to him, so suddenly you were engulfed in his arms from behind. He held your back to his chest tightly. “Hey,” he murmured, nestling into your neck. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you said with a smile, holding his hands that were around your stomach.

He shook his head, pressing his crotch to your ass. “No, I really missed you.”

“Seokjin,” you hissed in surprise, feeling his erection instantly. You were getting déjà vu. Laughing, you wriggled around, facing him. He already had his tie loosened around his neck, the top two buttons of his shirt free. “Control yourself. You’ve literally just gotten through the door.”

His facial expression looked immediately agonised. “I can’t. You’ve awakened the beast.”

“The beast?” You snorted.

He stared you down. “Yes.” And then he was on you, no time to return his kiss with just as much enthusiasm before he was at your neck, growling playfully. You fell into a fit of giggles, held prisoner by his hands pinned to your hips. “I was – distracted – all – day.” He informed you between tugs of your skin, tongue dutifully swiping where he’d bitten. He repeated. “Couldn’t stop thinking – about you naked – and moaning my – name – while I ate your–”

“Seokjin!” you roared, heat instantly travelling up your face. You swore his mouth was getting dirtier by the hour. It made sense. He was teasing in nature… you just needed some time to get used to it. You would not let him finish that sentence for fear your legs would collapse beneath you.

He broke away and leaned back, pupils so dark you could just about make out the brown of his irises. He panted slightly, lips wet. “Do you want to?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Right here?” It didn’t practically look like he was about to sweep you up in his arms and dash you up to the bedroom if the urgent grinding of his crotch was anything to go by…

He grinned wolfishly, tilting his head. “Why not?”

“It’s not very sanitary.” You glanced to your left as you spoke, eyeing up the two bell peppers you’d placed on the counter five minutes before Seokjin and his penis had shown up…

You watched in pure disbelief as Seokjin eased back and pulled a square foil packet out of his inner breast pocket. “Why? I have protection.”

“What the hell?” You exclaimed. “Why do you have a condom with you?” He’d gone to work with that in his pocket? Attended meetings? Was he crazy?

“It’s not what it looks like.” He chuckled, looking momentarily bashful. “I just thought… easy access. We never know when we’ll need one.”

Folding your arms, you stared at him. Frustratingly you were unable to keep the corners of your lips from quirking up. “We’ll need one at your office?”

He shrugged casually, a smug smirk on his face. “Who knows. I’m a man of very many fantasies…”

Oh, my god. Unbelievable. But you couldn’t pretend that his words weren’t having an effect on you, nor that the office fantasy didn’t sound hot… You stepped forward, hooking your fingers between his belt and slacks, pulling him forward – which was easy because he was caught off guard. “Enough small talk. Are you going to fuck me in your CEO suit, or what?”

He composed himself expertly, hands reaching for your waist as he leaned in. “First of all, hearing you curse will never not completely obliterate me, and second of all…” He paused to grin, so full of himself it was unbelievable. “You want me to fuck you in my suit?”

“Uh huh.” You nodded, tugging on his tie.

And fuck you in his suit he did, spread on the counter, your tank top yanked down so he could watch your breasts bounce as he pounded into you…

You spent the Tuesday in his home office, making the most out of idle time to lesson plan for your new class come September. You facetimed Soojung (who tried her best to get you to give her a house tour) and then ended up sunbathing with a book for an hour or so outside. After Seokjin came home he called Arin, asking her what she’d been up to so far and if she was having fun. Despite how much he was enjoying your company you could tell he was missing his daughter, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you with words. You sympathised with him, it must have been weird not having her around.

Unsure what to do for dinner, Seokjin suggested making a last minute dinner reservation. That sounded fine by you, too lazy to think of preparing something tonight, so off you went upstairs to get ready, but of course, Seokjin found ways of distracting you… (You were thirty minutes late for dinner.)

The days were passing by quickly, and you could quite honestly say the week with Seokjin was bliss – and not just because of all of the sex. Although, it did play a very big role… It was the little things that meant the most, such as grocery shopping on the Wednesday afternoon. Generously, Seokjin had used two of his vacation days for the end of the week, saving the others he was due in the summer to spend with Arin for her birthday at the end of next month. He’d arrived home early on the Wednesday afternoon, informing you he would be making dinner tonight and as silly as it sounded, walking around the store while Seokjin pushed the cart was one of the sweetest activities you’d shared together. The domesticity of it made your whole day, but the pasta dish he prepared later that night almost ruined it. His seasoning quantities were a little off, shall we say, all those years out of practice, so it turned out he was a danger with those chilli flakes. However, the coughing fit you both had after the first bite made for great entertainment… You didn’t know whether you were crying with laughter or because your throat was on fire…

The next day, as great as staying in bed and having sex all day sounded, Seokjin wanted to take you out and spend some time together as a couple. You were left to decide what you wanted to do, and of course you chose shopping. A new mall had recently opened up about an hour away and because you were so nervy on highways, you hadn’t had a chance to go yet. Seokjin was more than happy to take you, and kindly enough he did spoil you a bit that day. Usually you wouldn’t allow it (he’d tried it in the past), but there was no harm with once in a blue moon, was there? Besides, he got great use out of a few of the gifts too… One being the black skimpy laced lingerie he’d picked out… (The panties had an open crotch…) That evening you shared a bath and a bottle of champagne before you’d given him a very indulgent fashion show…

On Friday, you prepared a picnic and went hiking, which left Seokjin with an incredibly (and comically) red nose even though he’d applied sunscreen. You spent the afternoon cuddling in front of the television, making the most out of your last day alone together. Truthfully, you felt a little sad at the prospect of tomorrow. You missed Arin too and couldn’t wait to see her but spending your days so intimately and lovingly with Seokjin had been amazing. You told him just as much gone midnight, wrapped up in his arms and bedsheets, head pressed against his sheened chest as you listened to his heartbeat slowly even out. This week had made you fall for him harder – if possible – and you were sad it was ending, but just so excited this was only the beginning… He kissed you long and hard, agreeing wholeheartedly, words unneeded.

Arin was due back early afternoon, so you and Seokjin shared breakfast together before you packed up your things. He clung to you the entire time, sighing every time you folded up an item of clothing and placed it in your case.

“How will I function without having sex with you every morning?” He bemoaned after one particularly loud unhappy exhale.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” you laughed. He was unbelievable. And whiney. But then again, so were you…

Stood beside your car an hour later, saying your goodbyes, you hugged him tight. “I’m going to miss youuu.” How were you expected to sleep alone tonight?! It wasn’t fair.

It was now Seokjin’s turn to chuckle at your ridiculousness. “I’m not going anywhere.” He assured, cupping the back of your head as you pulled back to look at him. His expression softened instantly. “But I feel the same.” Kissing your nose, he smiled. “You know that you can spend the night here anytime you want though, right?”

You held out until Monday. You wanted to give Arin some time alone with Seokjin after her week away, you bet she’d missed her father like crazy, but apparently she’d missed you too… Seokjin called you while he was at work – his second call of the day. (His first had been at six o’clock this morning, waking you up to let you know he (and his dick) missed you.) Arin had asked him to ask you if you wanted to come over tonight for an impromptu movie night. You were touched to say the least. You let Seokjin know you’d be there 6pm on the dot with snacks at hand. He told you to bring an overnight bag…

Having sex with Arin under the same roof took some time to get used to. The first time was so hilarious looking back. It was 1am, time was ticking on and Seokjin had to be awake in under six hours, Arin was long asleep – and across the hall! Yet still you were both anxious fools, listening out for the slightest of noises just in case the unthinkable happened. Not that it would have, Seokjin knew Arin was a heavy sleeper so there was little chance of her barging in… but it still didn’t stop him from whispering “What was that?” every five minutes, eyes pulled wide like a deer caught in headlights.

It definitely got easier though, and soon movie nights became a regular thing as the last weeks of summer rolled by. You had a routine; one movie of Arin’s choice and then it was her bedtime, and then if Seokjin and you felt like it, you’d choose a movie yourselves to watch. Tonight was a Saturday, so after Enchanted had finished and Seokjin put Arin to bed, you decided to watch something too seeing as he didn’t have work the next morning.

Halfway in, however, you were getting distracted… Your hand sneaking inside the blanket you had wrapped around the both of you to run up and down Seokjin’s thigh. This week had been an odd one. Your boyfriend had been super busy with work and you’d missed him – obviously. You’d done well to keep your hands off him for this long, now you were finally caving…

“I guess this movie is boring?” Seokjin whispered into the darkness, face lit up with a blue glow. His eyes sparkled as your gazes met, your palm hovering over his crotch. He lifted his hips a touch, brushing against you.

“No,” you grinned, leaning in to kiss him. “You’re just more interesting…”

He chuckled against your lips. “I definitely agree with that.”

Groaning, you went to lift your hand away but he snatched it back, pressing you into him, encouraging you to rub. With your tongues entwined, you soon felt his erection stirring, cock stiffening under his sweats.

It was a wonder you both heard the creak of the wooden floorboards in the hallway – but thankfully you did. Movements stilling, you pulled back. Eyes wide in question, you mouthed, “What was that?”

You both listened out for another noise, hearing the tell-tale sound of footsteps walking towards the movie room. “Arin,” Seokjin breathed, and just like that the moment was over. You broke apart, Seokjin rearranging his junk expertly (a round of applause) before he stood up.

On cue, a tiny voice sounded from behind the door. “Daddy?”

“Arin, sweetie, what is it?” He asked, walking over to pull it open.

Arin was stood there, looking perfectly wide awake hugging her rabbit plush. “I can’t get to sleep.”

“And why’s that?” Seokjin asked.

She ignored him completely, walking into the room. “What are you watching?”

“A grown-ups movie,” he replied, sounding amused. “Come on, let me take you back upstairs. Say goodnight to Y/N again.”

Arin whined loudly, turning to her dad. “But I can’t sleeeep!”

“Maybe she can stay up for a little while?” You suggested, looking over at Seokjin before you turned your attention to Arin. “Until you’re tired, hm, Arin?”

Her face lit up immediately. “I think that’s a great idea, Y/N.”

You laughed and Seokjin wasn’t close behind, bending down to squeeze Arin’s sides, playfully causing her to squeal. “Do you, little miss?” You met Seokjin’s gaze, both of you coming to terms with the fact your moment had been well and truly ruined. It was fine… You had later on tonight…

“It’s the weekend, she can stay up a little later than normal, no?” You asked with a smile.

“Fine,” he mock sighed, pretending to only give in right now.

Arin cheered in victory, rushing over to sit next to you on the sofa, cuddling in immediately. She had gotten what she’d came downstairs for. You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, an action that had become more than normal these past couple of weeks. The more time you spent here, the closer you had become. You were no longer the teacher who had started dating her father. You were now his girlfriend, someone she saw regularly, someone she could laugh and joke around with. Someone she felt comfortable around, and vice versa. You were Y/N. Just as your relationship with Seokjin was growing and developing on the daily, so was your relationship with Arin. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Arin looked up at her father and grinned. “Can we watch another Disney movie, Daddy?”

As it happened, Arin didn’t last an hour before she was fast asleep between you both, softly snoring, her bunny fallen forgotten to her side. Deciding to head upstairs too, you followed Seokjin as he carried her to her room, stopping by the entrance to watch him lay her down and place a soft kiss to her forehead. You smiled to yourself, warmth flooding your chest at the touching scene in front of you before you both headed off for Seokjin’s room and began getting ready for bed.

Seokjin was lying on top of the mattress when you exited the bathroom, knowing you’d left your pyjamas in the closet somewhere. Only, the sight of him sprawled out in baggy shorts and a t-shirt, so casually sexy, had you suddenly distracted. In just your underwear, you viewed him from the end of the bedframe. “Where were we earlier?”

He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t know, I think I’m in a Disney Princess coma.”

Chuckling, you placed a knee on the bed. “You enjoyed yourself really.” Then your hands. Then your other knee. Slowly crawling towards him. “Do you want to enjoy yourself now?”

He immediately sat up, back against the headboard, his eyes falling to your cleavage. He smirked softly. “That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.”

Ten minutes later you had him in your mouth, knelt to his side, ass facing him as he rubbed and massaged the flesh to his heart’s content. “You’re so good at this,” he praised, his fingers slipping into the side of your underwear teasingly. You sucked him deeper. “Fuck. So good. Baby, let me make you feel good too.” He removed his fingers and ran them along your ass, stopping at your entrance to rub. You were soaked through, could feel it yourself. He moaned. Either because of your tongue or because of what he felt. Maybe both. “So wet and you’re only sucking my cock.”

You slid your mouth off of him, running your fist up and down the solid and slippery length instead. He jerked his hips into your touch, chasing the pleasure. “Quit inflating your ego,” you quipped.

He chuckled, turning to his side as his fingers moved up to the waistband of your underwear. “Mm. Like this?”

You got the message loud and clear, letting him slide the fabric down your ass before settling down on your side too. You ran your fist over the tip of him as he rid you of your underwear altogether, wrapping his arms around your hips to angle your heat towards his mouth. You wriggled as you felt the first press of his tongue, earning you a quick, playful smack to the ass and after that you let him hold you tight, the tip of his tongue digging between your folds to flick against your clit.

You leaned forward, wanting to return the favour, and sucked him back into your mouth, the angle now making it easier to slip him deeper. You’d never done something like this together before, which was surprising in itself considering the sheer amount of times you’d been unable to keep your hands off each other these past three weeks. It was so erotic hearing him groan against you as he continued to pleasure you, your own moans vibrating down his cock as you both grew more eager, lost in the feeling.

He came first. It probably had something to do with the way you massaged his balls, concentrating on sucking the tip of him as his hips grew impatient and he began rocking into you. He moaned your name, mouth faltering, and all he could do was grip your ass tight as he felt his orgasm take over, grunting as you swallowed each drop.

“I win,” you gleed softly, pulling away from him to kiss down his softening length.

“Of course you do,” he murmured, sounding fucked out. “Fuck, I needed that.” Rolling onto his back, he ran his hands down your thighs. “Come here, let me kiss you.”

Moving to straddle him, you leaned in and kissed him hungrily, still very much horny, and tasting yourself on his lips didn’t help matters. His hands cupped your bare ass, spreading it slightly so he could run his fingers along your lips, so wet he was sinking in before he could realise.

You moaned, rocking into him and he cursed softly, pushing his head back into the pillows. He tugged you forward. “This way,” he got out, panting slightly, out of breath from the way you’d kissed him. You understood from the way he was lifting you up where this was going…

Moving up his body, your thighs were soon either side of his head. He wasted no time in lunging forward, mouth picking up where he left off. You held on to the headboard, careful not to press your entire body weight into him for fear of suffocating him. Not that he would mind, you thought… He was all over you, licking and kissing wherever he could reach, hellbent on tasting every inch of you, humming in enjoyment the entire time as you panted.

You kept your eyes on him, one of your hands moving to caress his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, his forehead on show as well as those deadly eyebrows of his, currently furrowed in determination. When his dark eyes flickered up to your face, you shuddered, moaning loudly. He loved it. It set him off.

“I love the way you taste so much,” he praised, pulling back to rub his thumb over your clit. You bucked into him, fluttering when he kissed the spot lovingly. “That right then,” he almost rasped. “It’s been a fantasy of mine for a while.”

In other circumstances you’d 100% shoot a witty comeback his way, but not now – definitely not now. Not when he was slipping two fingers inside of you right this instant. You were soon rubbing your hips into his face like a woman possessed, needing to feel his tongue again as you choked out a few extra moans.

“Honey, that’s it,” he encouraged with a long groan. “Ride me a little. You have no idea how much this turns me on. I could get hard all over again.”

Moaning, turned on by his words, you listened, relief flooding you when you felt the warmth of his tongue against your clit. You moved like you usually did when he had you spread on your back, grinding against his tongue, only this time you had a lot more control – and he seemed to love it, free hand digging into the side of your ass, the other dragging against your walls, making you tremble. With one hand clutching the headboard, the other in his hair you used the leverage to rock against him, the squelchy wet noises fuelling you further, until you were panting and out of breath, unable to take much more.

You lifted your hips a little, feeling your legs tremble like jello, and let Seokjin kiss the inside of your thighs, his fingers now shallowly fucking you as you attempted to catch your breath. “I love how wet and warm and soft you are,” he groaned. His lips brushed past your clit, breath fanning over you. “You really have the most amazing pussy.”

“Seokjinn,” you moaned, unable to stop from jerking against his face again. His mouth would be the death of you. He latched his lips against your clit, sucking the bud gently into his mouth over and over again. You were done for, sighs of pleasure rolling out of you as you stared down at him.

“Mmm, baby? You gonna cum?” He asked, stroking your walls deeper, pressing and curling as he went. You nodded, incoherent noises all you could manage as your thighs tightened. “All over my face?” He prompted.

You didn’t need much encouraging.

It was inevitable the need for condoms would become unnecessary soon enough. Which was a shame really, given Seokjin’s bargain hunting, but it wasn’t long before they became a bind – inconvenient, more so. That, and you wanted nothing more than to feel Seokjin bare inside of you, to be as close as physically possible, and nothing could be as close to feeling him come inside you. It had been a while since you’d been on birth control, years obviously, but highly organised and a bit of a control freak, you’d be damned if you ever forgot to pop that pill every goddam day.

The first time without a condom had been mind-blowing. You were under the impression sex with Seokjin couldn’t get better than it already was, but you were wrong – very wrong. You were home alone, Arin staying with her mom for the night and you were taking full advantage of the opportunity. Who needed dinner at a time like this? But Seokjin (who had now become reacquainted with his culinary skills) insisted on preparing a candlelit meal. It was almost reminiscent of your first time together entirely, Seokjin keen and eager to pull out all the stops, and you teased him to no end. Was coming inside you for the first time really that big of an occasion? His reply: Yes. Very much so yes.

Not an hour later, half your plates still full and too excited for no more than ten minutes of foreplay, you were both naked, sweaty and way beyond control. The bedsheets were rumpled, barely hanging onto the bed as you rolled around, the pungent smell of sex in the air, and in hindsight, you should’ve knocked the aircon on…

Not that you had time to think right now. You’d successfully gotten him onto his back, riding him into submission until all he could do was hold onto your breasts and meet each bounce with a roll of his hips. You clutched him to you, hands over his own as you concentrated on the burning pleasure travelling up your body. It had been a couple of weeks since the last time you’d been able to fuck with such abandon. Arin was obviously home 90% of the time and on the odd occasional Seokjin spent the night at your place, Soojung was there (maybe even Tae too), her bedroom right next to yours.

Seokjin’s hands soon found their way clamped to your hips, pushing you back a little so he could see himself as he thrust up into you. You cried out, the sound of his skin thudding against yours telling you just how hard and fast he was pounding into you. His eyes were glued to where your bodies met and he could see perfectly just how well you were soaking his dick, just how good you were taking it, stretching over his girth.

“I’m close,” he panted, hips stuttering. He slowed his pace, but kept the pressure, his cock getting deeper. You held on tightly to his thighs, anchoring yourself, your walls clamping down around him. He groaned, feeling every minute sensation without the latex barrier. “I’m so fucking close. Can’t wait to cum inside you.”

You moaned in response, holding eye contact with him, your face contorted with pleasure, and that seemed to set him off, your pants and sighs of pleasure happening in unison as he sped up one last time, ready to fill you with his cum. The veins in his neck burst as he grunted and his cock twitched, flesh scorching. He fucked you through each wave of his orgasm, holding you still, your body jerking with the force. In the back of your mind you realised come tomorrow morning you’d be sore as hell, but honestly, who cared?

Carried away, no longer able to think straight, his cock fell out of you with one awry thrust. He was growing flaccid anyway, sensitive, so it was impossible trying to push back inside of you. Which was sad because you were still a mess, warm with his cum and desperate for more relief. You plopped down on his thighs, your breasts rising up and down with each laboured breath and then Seokjin’s eyes caught something. Something seeping out of your body…

“Fuck.” He half moaned in amazement. “It’s dripping out.”

After that you didn’t have a moment to think. You were flat on your back before you could truly process his words, his fingertips circling your swollen entrance, smearing his cum in the process. You pulsed in anticipation, body greedy, and he gave it to you swiftly, plunging two fingers inside you. You moaned on impact, feet planted to the mattress as he started snapping his wrist, pushing his cum back into you.

“Baby, you drive me crazy.” He husked, sounding positively tormented. “Look so pretty with my cum inside you.” All you could do was moan in reply, walls squeezing around his digits as he coaxed you to orgasm. “I can feel it,” he grunted, pressing his body into yours, his mouth chasing for a kiss. Your tongues meshed together urgently, kiss sloppy, done in haste.

“Seokjinn…” Your voice was a whine and you clutched at his shoulders, closing your eyes when you felt his lips trail down your chin, moving southward, towards the valley of your breasts.

He growled as your body jerked, his tongue swirling around one of your hard nipples. “You’ve started something now. I’m gonna have to cum in you every single day.”

You were on fire. His words affecting you in ways you didn’t think were possible. “Don’t s-stop,” you implored, although if anything, he was snapping his wrist even faster now, fingers curved, hitting right where you needed. You moaned loudly. “You always make me feel so good. Mm. I’m-I’m… Fuck.”

Grunting, your curse ruining him, he made his way back to your mouth. You held him tightly, back stuck to the bed with sweat. “Cum, baby.” He told you. “Please.”

That sent you over the edge, waves of pleasure rocking your body and he swallowed each one of your moans greedily, his fingers gradually slowing, easing you through your orgasm until he slid out. He pulled back with a drunken grin. “You’re so sexy.” Then he looked down your naked body, sighing in wonder. “God, you’re amazing.”

“Quit it!” You exclaimed with a laugh, whacking his shoulder. Still very much out of breath.

Summer continued to fly by, not long left now until you were back at school. As much as the prospect excited you, you couldn’t help but feel a little dejected. Having so much time off had worked out perfectly for your relationship with Seokjin, because even though he was still very much busy with work, you had all the free time in the world to match his schedule. It made you sad to realise there would be no more lunch dates. No more impromptu midweek movie nights. Actually, thinking about it, staying over during the weekday would probably be pretty impossible too – with all the lessons you’d have to plan and the work you’d need to score. In fact, you were about to be a hell of a lot busier from September onwards.

Seokjin reassured you as best he could. You’d fall into routine soon enough and things would work out. You could still meet up for lunch – he’d drive over and you’d eat in his car if needed, and you could still spend the night on a weekday. He’d wait patiently while you finished up work, make you dinner and then make sure you were asleep by 10pm. You appreciated the sentiment, he always did know how to cheer you up. Although his “Think of it this way, you left school single and now you’re going back with an incredibly kind and insanely sexy boyfriend. I’d call yourself lucky, if I was you.” wasn’t as treasured… He thought he was funny, but he wasn’t at all…

Still, you had two weeks left to go, there was no point being miserable over the inevitable. You’d had the best summer of your life, you were lucky. (Just not in the way Seokjin had implied…)

“I can’t wait to take this off you tonight,” Seokjin murmured against your ear as he zipped the back of your dress up, insinuation deep in his tone.

Turning around to face him, you placed your hands on his shoulders. “We can always skip tonight and go straight to the sex.”

Laughing heartily, he tapped your ass. “Nice try. There’s nothing to be nervous about, okay?” He ignored your grumbling and stepped away, reaching for his cufflinks on the bedside table. “It’s just a dinner, honey.”

“With a bunch of the country’s richest people,” you exclaimed, feeling sick all over again. Every few months or so Seokjin had dinner with a few of his colleagues. They brought their partners along, and this time Seokjin was ecstatic you would be joining him. You on the other hand were this close to hyperventilating.

“That’s a small exaggeration,” Seokjin scoffed, cufflinks now attached as he made his way back to you. He cupped your waist, tilting his head to the side with a smile. “Besides, your boyfriend is included in that bunch. Are you nervous around me to?”

“Shut it,” you muttered, reaching to straighten his bow tie. He looked amazing in his suit tonight, hair parted to the side. Skipping dinner seemed like an excellent idea… But when he leaned in to kiss you sweetly, you knew you couldn’t. Seokjin was looking forward to “showing you off.” (His exact words.) I’m not a trophy, you’d shot back, but of course you knew he hadn’t meant it like that. It was sweet actually. He was proud. And happy. And cute.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you hugged him close. He nosed your neck, humming happily before nipping a patch of skin with his teeth, growling playfully. “Seriously, I can’t wait to rip this dress off you.”

You squealed as he began to tickle your sides, trying to push him away. “Stop, you’ll crease it.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured, easing up to gaze at you. “You’ll still look stunning. Always do.” The black floor-length dress you were in was nothing you were used to, and maybe that’s why your nerves were worse than what they should be but knowing Seokjin liked what he saw helped ease your reservations. How could it not? He always made you feel like a million dollars.

He was looking forward to tonight, so you should try to as well… You had nothing to worry about.

You really didn’t.

The night was a success. Despite your lives being vastly different, you got along with Seokjin’s colleagues well. They seemed like lovely people, especially the wife of Seokjin’s CFO. She was around your age, a couple of years older maybe, and you bonded over your favourite book series like a pair of nerds. You both left with a recommended reading list saved into your phones, numbers exchanged with plans of encouraging one another to read more. Seokjin was delighted you’d enjoyed yourself so much and you spent the chauffeured car journey to your place talking about the night.

Although, as soon as you got inside was an entirely different story altogether. It had already been pre-decided that Seokjin would spend the night with you, Misook babysitting Arin at his home, and you soon realised that he had not been messing around when he’d informed you he was going to rip the dress off you. You weren’t even up the stairs before he was attempting to unzip you, bumping his crotch into your ass with every step as he kissed your neck, blowing raspberries as he went.

“Shhh. Shush,” you giggled, trying your best to whisper successfully. “They may be still awake.” You knew Taehyung was staying over tonight too, he’d been here spread out on the couch before you’d left for Seokjin’s place this afternoon.

“Better get you to your room quickly then.” He said confidently, pouncing on you at the top step as he wrapped his arms around your middle.

You bit back a squeal, shoving your foot into his shin. “Seokjin!”

In the privacy of your bedroom, you shut the door tight, turning back to see your boyfriend already stripping out of his tux jacket. He didn’t have shoes on either and as you looked around for them, spotting nothing, you realised he must have kicked them off back downstairs. When?! He reached for you, running his hands down your curves before they settled on your ass. He looked at you as if he wanted to eat you. Your stomach stirred, only now realising exactly where tonight was heading. He really hadn’t been bluffing…

“Did I tell you how stunning you looked tonight?” He asked, popping his bowtie off and unbuttoning his shirt halfway. His collarbones sharp enough to cut, the outline of his chest clear enough to make you dribble.

You chuckled, although you could hear the aroused tremble so obviously. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

He smiled your way, although it was more like a smirk, and stalked towards you. “Turn around.”

You obeyed in an instant. His fingers reaching for the zip of your dress. It was already halfway down – something you hadn’t realised. (He was obviously somewhat success back in the hallway.) As he revealed the expanse of your back he kissed the nape of your neck, gently pushing the straps over your shoulders to let the fabric slide down. With an expert snap he had your bra loose, removing that too, and it fell to the floor in front of you, hands reaching forward to cup your breasts, fingertips pinching your nipples. You moaned, disappointed when he moved, but then he started mouthing down your spine as he helped the dress along, surprising you when he crouched down, and then inevitably got on his knees, pushing the garment past your hips. He groaned when he saw your thong, lips parting to caress you with his tongue.

“You have the most perfect ass,” he gruffed against the skin, giving you a squeeze. “Have I ever told you that? Could worship it all night.”

Please, you wanted to murmur, but you held back, biting down on your lip as you felt him sink his teeth into one of your ass cheeks. What was with him tonight? You could already feel your arousal collecting between the small band of your panties. It wasn’t going to hold for long.

“Let’s get you out of this dress.” Despite his casual tone, he tugged the garment harshly, causing you to stumble at the sudden movement.

“Seokjin!” You chided lightly, clutching onto one of his hands now at your hip. “I still have my heels on, could’ve broken my ankle.”

“I was here to keep you safe,” he assured you with a chuckle, and then as an afterthought, “Maybe you could keep them on while we…”

You bumped your butt into his face, silently telling him to shut it, and kicked the footwear off, now able to remove your dress easily. Seokjin stood, spinning you to face him, mouth pressing into yours with haste. He kissed you passionately, wrapping his arms around you, holding you to him, your breasts pushed up against his chest. He was still clothed, but you could feel his erection pressing into your stomach. You wanted to touch it, but your hands were too busy caught up in his hair.

“Bed,” he panted up against your mouth, practically lifting you up to push you down on the mattress. You settled on your elbows, watching him as he tore open the rest of his shirt buttons, throwing the item to the floor, his well-defined torso now on full display.

He pounced on you, kissing you hungrily once more, so hungrily in fact, you needed to pull away to catch your breath. He moved to your cheek, wet kisses finding their way to your ear. Sensitive, you had to push him away with a hand to the chest. “Sorry, am I being too much?” He murmured, lips sticky.

You shook your head with a shaky giggle. “I just can’t keep up.”

“Just lay back and enjoy, baby.” His tone was reassuring, encouraging, and insanely sexy. He lifted your hips, scooting you up the bed to rest your head on the pillows. “Can you do that for me?”

“Of course.” You watched him raise up on his knees, the clank of his belt making you pulse down below as he undid it. He unzipped his pants but made no effort to take them off, running his palm once along the curve of his length before he crawled over you. He placed a sweet kiss to your mouth, smiling as he pulled away. “Did you notice I didn’t go for dessert tonight?” Puzzled, you stayed silent waiting for him to explain. His smile widened, more of a grin now – a very amused one at that. “I was saving myself for something tastier.”

You scoffed. He was unbelievable, but it was easy to let him get away with such corny lines. Especially when he had you spread out near naked on your own bed. “Lame!” You exclaimed, immediately clamping your hand across your mouth. You needed to remember to keep quiet, Soojung and Taehyung were asleep next door, but you were feeling uncharacteristically unbothered tonight, too eager and excited.

He chuckled at your silliness. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure you’ve heard them have sex before. Think of it as payback.”

His nonchalance was pretty attractive so you let his words ease your mind. Although maybe it had more to do with the way he was trailing kisses down your stomach… He leaned back to spread your legs, already bent at the knee. You were pretty sure your thong was doing nothing to protect your modesty anymore.

He confirmed your assumption with a sharp intake of breath. “Honey, you’re soaking. I haven’t even done anything yet.” You braced yourself, waiting to feel the brush of his finger, but instead it was the softness of his tongue. He licked a strip up your clothed mound, a noise of delight rumbling from him. You pulsed uncontrollably, eager for more.

He gave it to you. Lips wrapping around your hidden clit, tongue laving, soaking the delicate material even more. Your legs instantly squeezed around his head, unsure what to do with the sudden influx of pleasure before you moaned, rocking your hips into him gently.

He eased away slightly, replacing his tongue with his thumb, rubbing skilled circles that caused you to squelch. “Love your pussy so much,” he murmured, going back for more hastily.

You moaned again at his words, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you, but it wasn’t long before he was kissing back up your stomach, mouth now attaching itself to one your nipples. Your hands flew to the back of his head, looking down at him as he flicked the bud with his tongue, moaning as he did so. It was such an erotic sight you felt speechless, and when his chocolatey brown eyes met yours, pooling with desire, you felt beside yourself.

“Turn around.” He whispered, roughly. “On your knees for me?”

You had never listened so fast in all your life, scrabbling on your hands and knees in record time. You waited as patiently as you could, ass in the air, anticipating his next move. You startled when you felt a puff of air against your entrance, the sound of Seokjin’s sticky lips loud in your ears. “You look so good in this thong,” he praised, snapping the thin line of fabric between your ass.

Pushing into him, you smirked. “I wore it just for you.”

He hummed – in contemplation almost – before he pulled your panties to the side and dove straight in with his mouth. You yelped, ducking your head at your volume. You’d been expecting him to go straight to the sex, not continue to eat you out. He’d never done it in this position before – it felt amazing. A noise dragged from his throat as he pulled away, fingers dipping under the sides of your panties to drag them over your ass impatiently. As he did so, he bit into your ass, his hands now spreading your thighs, exposing you more so he could bury his face between your legs.

You held your breath, waiting for him to continue but nothing could prepare you for the pleasure he was about to inflict on you. He flicked his tongue out against your clit, nose and mouth pressed flush against your heat, hands rooted to your ass and you moaned right away, bucking into him instinctively. Unable to hit your clit as well as he usually could he slid his mouth along your slit, tongue beginning to lick at your entrance, sucking your inner lips gently into his mouth as he did so. You were soaking, could feel yourself starting to drip down the inside of your thighs, but Seokjin didn’t seem to have a care in the world, lapping you up as if he was a man dying of thirst, rough moans letting you know just how much he was enjoying himself – enjoying you.

When you felt his tongue push inside you, you jolted, sensation instantly making your thighs squeeze together. Not that they could with Seokjin hunched between them. He began to experimentally push in and out of you, noticing the way you tensed around him and hearing the way your breathing got shallower. Wordlessly, his hand reached forward, around your thigh to hook between your legs and start rubbing your clit with his fingers. With his other hand he gently (but firmly) pushed down at the small of your back, your ass rising higher, giving him better access to keep fucking you with his tongue. With the added stimulus you could feel yourself breaking, knees trembling, pushed hard against the mattress. He felt so warm, and wet, and just incredible. Your moans got more frequent, heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“That feels so good.” You managed to choke out, your orgasm so close you could taste it. That’s usually when you gabbled. “Right there. Don’t stop!” He listened, speeding up his movements, the squelch getting louder as he grunted in exertion. He sounded so hot it just turned you on even more, and you lifted your ass higher, pushing into each thrust of his tongue. He rubbed your clit desperately, determined to push you ever the edge.

You gasped, unsure how else to stay quiet as more words rushed out of you. “Seokjin–! I’m going to– Oh, my god, I’m coming!” Burying your face into the pillows your moans turned muffled as you came, white hot pleasure bursting through your veins. So sated, you couldn’t even find it in you to feel embarrassed with how loud he’d just made you orgasm.

His finger moved away first, clit pulsing against nothing as he massaged the round of your ass instead, coating you in your own arousal, before his tongue eased off, placing a delicate kiss to your entrance as a goodbye.

The mattress shifted under his weight as he moved back a couple of inches and you heard him slide his belt out of the trouser loops, the sound flying straight to your core. He stripped behind you quickly, you couldn’t even bring yourself to take a peek, too dazed, yet your imagination worked quite well. Instead, you kept kneeling for him, waiting for his return.

He wasn’t even a minute. You felt the warmth of his dick press against the small of your back as he made his way closer once again.

“Are you ready for me?” Despite the deepness of his voice – how obviously he was affected – you could hear the care in his tone as he checked in on you.

“So ready,” you insisted, jutting into his thighs.

He chuckled, pushing his dick between your legs now, sliding it across your slit. You were still sensitive, squirming against him, but you were also still so greedy, so you let him do what he wanted, soaking his cock along your wetness unhurriedly. You were so distracted by his movements, the smack he suddenly landed on your ass had you yelping more so from shock than sting. If you weren’t so drunk with pleasure right now you’d chew him out for being so loud.

“Did that hurt?” He asked curiously, voice dripping danger. You felt your gut squeeze. That was new. He’d slapped your ass before but never with that much intent. The sting melted into your skin as he massaged the spot. “Mm, baby?” He pressed, voice now dripping honey. “Do you like pain?” He spanked you again but this time you were ready, biting down on your lip. “Like it when I’m mean to you?”

You nodded, some type of agreeing noise leaving your throat which seemed to appease him. He rubbed your ass soothingly, the head of his cock now dragging across your entrance. How he had this much patience was beyond you. You could not relate.

“Quit teasing.” You whined. Put it in me.”

“Don’t be a brat, honey.” He chuckled, but he pushed ever so slightly into you. He let out a sharp exhale, starting to fuck you shallowly with the tip, hands at his sides. You squeezed around nothing, flinging your head back frustratingly. “Seokjin!” You wanted him to fuck you. And touch you.

Chuckling again, throatily, he pushed an inch deeper. He wasn’t even halfway inside of you. “I want to antagonise myself. Shush.” But he gripped your ass, pulling you apart slightly to slowly push inside of you all the way. You both groaned with the drag, taking a breather as you squeezed around him, getting used to the feeling. You always felt so full in this position, trembling around his crazy big dick.

Soon he began to move, sliding in and out of you with intense concentration. You couldn’t see him but you knew his gaze was welded to where your bodies met, watching himself disappear inside you over and over again. “You’re the tease, Y/N,” he murmured, picking up the pace. You could hear yourself squelching around his girth. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He felt you pulse and his breath hitched.

Bunching the meat of your ass in his fists, he pounded into you for a few moments, holding you still, making you take it. You whimpered, trying your best to stay quiet. “Always take my cock so well. Don’t you, baby?”

“Ye-ess.” Your voice broke, a moan tearing through you as he rammed himself deep inside , stopping dead. “Fuck, Seokjin.” You were burning up. You needed him to move before you sobbed.

With precision, he started fucking you slowly, bottoming out each time, revelling in your warmth, your wetness. It was so intense your eyes started to water, trying your best to stay as silent as possible but each breath was sounding more and more like a moan. You could hear yourself squelching around him every time he moved. So could he.

“I love that,” he said, voice tight, as if he was trying his best to keep calm. “I’m gonna cum so deep in you tonight. Fill you up good.”

You moaned loudly this time. It was always hot to hear your well-spoken boyfriend fall off into the deep end, articulation deteriorating with each thrust. It turned you on like no tomorrow. “Please do,” you urged, walls clamping around him at the very thought.

He lost it at that, begging with your words and your body, and it wasn’t long before his movements were speeding up, his hips snapping against your ass as he held it tight. “Can you cum again?” He sounded frantic.

“M-maybe – oh.” You jolted, feeling Seokjin’s fingers at your clit.

“I really want you to cum again for me.” His fingers became persistent, rubbing circles against your sensitivity.

Holding your breath, you concentrated. On each thrust, how good his dick was, how the motions on your clit felt. Everything… You willed your second orgasm, feeling it start to be pulled out of you. You started to meet each of his thrusts, skin slapping as your sweaty bodies worked together. “Yes, yes, yes, yes–!” You urged with each thud, so close you were trembling. Your voice broke as the sensation took over, moan turning into a squeak as you tried to shut up.

This time your orgasm was shorter, but it didn’t make it any less intense. In fact, it immediately exhausted you. “Shit. Fuck.” You mumbled, pretty much collapsing into the bed, Seokjin wedged deep inside you.

“You feel different.” He groaned. You felt him twitch. “Love that feeling.” Ever so carefully, he drew back, hands gliding along your back. “I’m okay to finish?”

“Yes,” you nodded, turning to press your cheek to the pillow. You jutted your ass out, feeling him slide back in almost involuntarily, your tightness calling him back. “Be quick though.” You were tired – and sensitive. Still horny though…

He found that amusing, chuckling throatily. “I promise you I will. I’m so fucking close.” He pulled back again, grunting. He was taking his time, easing you into it. “Ngh. I’m almost too big for you now. You’re squeezing so much.”

You moaned in reply, loving the way he held your hips firm and rolled into you, slowly fucking you into the mattress.

“Tell me how much you’re loving it,” he pretty much pleaded, ever so slightly speeding up.

“I love it so much.” You professed. “You have n-no idea.” You jerked forward as he hit deep, crying out. “Seokjinn! Please. Go a little faster.”

He grunted, sounding smug. “You want my cum.” You moaned in reply. “Say it for me.” He demanded. “Please, baby, say it for me.”

“I want your cum,” you moaned.

And that was enough. With a strangled cry he began to snap his hips faster and faster, fucking you hard, chasing his end. It didn’t take long. A minute later he rammed himself deep, stiffening as he came inside you, groan of relief loud as all the tension left his body. “Shit.” He muttered, collapsing on top of you, careful not to press his full body weight into you.

He held your shoulders, nuzzling into you as he slid to your side. You used what was left of your energy to turn around, letting him smother you with kisses. “That was… I don’t know what came over me.” He exclaimed.

“It was amazing,” you gushed, running a hand down his sticky chest. You could spot your arousal, now dried to his face, his hairline damp with perspiration. You leaned in for a kiss, pulling back when he began to laugh. You looked at him puzzled.

“You want my cum,” he gleed.

“Get lost!” You groaned, pushing him away. He rolled onto his back, his chest still rising visibly as he caught his breath.

“I need the bathroom,” he announced, standing and looking around. “My bag? I thought Misook said she dropped it off for me?”

Sitting up, you glanced around. “Maybe Soo left it downstairs.” She’d probably thought you’d spot it by the door when you arrived home. You’d been too distracted… “Wear my robe.” You suggested.

“That?” Seokjin questioned, looking sceptically at the pink fluffy nightgown hooked onto your closet door.

“Why not? You’ll look cute.”

“True,” he agreed, turning to reach for it.

“Nice ass.” You had a great view from here.

“Hey,” he whined, throwing the robe on quickly to hide his modesty.

“What, you have a really nice ass for a forty year old!” You insisted.

He clicked his tongue. “Now that’s just rude.”

You giggled as he left, calling out a not very believable sorry after him. A few minutes later you heard Soojung’s door open, footsteps in the hallway and then, voices. Taehyung and Seokjin’s. They’d bumped into each other. You laughed to yourself, imagining how awkward it must be for them right now. Amazing. Twenty seconds later Seokjin and your fluffy robe were shooting through the door.

“Oh, my god.” Seokjin grimaced. “That was so awkward. Taehyung wanted the bathroom as I was leaving.”

“I heard,” you chuckled, amused by your boyfriend’s unnecessary mortification.

He laid on the bed, groaning. “We had to small talk. He was in his boxers… I think he knew we’d just had sex.”

“Yeah, he probably heard us too…”

Seokjin made a noise of discomfort. He wasn’t so sure of himself now, was he? You rolled your eyes and reached for him, gathering the collar of your gown in your hands to kiss him. You grinned. “You look really sexy in my pink fluffy gown.”

He hummed against your mouth, “I know, right?” He didn’t need persuading when you pulled him over you, untying the middle of the robe before pushing the fluffy garment over his broad shoulders. His dick was soft, but he was eager if the way he kissed you was anything to go by. It made you feel guilty when you inevitably pushed him away, robe victoriously clutched in your arms.

“Where are you going?” He whined, watching you stand.

You slipped into the nightgown, smiling cutely. “I need to pee.”

When you woke up the next morning there was a text waiting for you from your beloved best friend…

Soojung (08:12am) Tae just told me he woke up and heard you guys having s e x last night Then he bumped into Seokjin who was wearing ur robe I’m glad I’m a heavy sleeper But he said it sounded like you were having a GREAT time 😏 Dilf got movesss 😳

The embarrassment!

Today was a very important day, according to one little person. Arin’s seventh birthday. She’d mentioned it almost every single day since August had arrived. Seokjin had worked really hard organising her a garden party, inviting all their family and friends, including a couple of her friends from school. You were a bit nervous about that, knowing you’d be met with a few curious questions but there were more pressing issues at hand... You were about to meet Seokjin’s parents for the first time. (As well as numerous other members of his family, but a girl could only worry about so many things at once.)

He’d already met your family a couple of weeks previous – joining you for lunch with your mom one afternoon and then accompanying you for dinner at your father’s house a few days later. Seokjin had taken it in his stride, so even if he was a little nervous he never once showed it. He was good at that, you admired him for that. You on the other hand were this close to breaking out into a nervous sweat.

You were thankful Arin had you preoccupied all morning, insisting on helping Misook and you put up the decorations for her own birthday party. Helpful as always, although be it a little buzzed. Scrap that, a lot buzzed. She was still on a high from celebrating her birthday with her mom for a couple of days. She’s only gotten back yesterday afternoon, and that’s when Seokjin had surprised her with two pet rabbits – one snowy white, the other midnight black. Her excitement levels were through the roof today. Seokjin had called you this morning informing you he’d been woken up at 5am and he needed your assistance ASAP because he couldn’t handle a hyperactive birthday girl all on his own the entirety of the morning…

By 1pm some of the guest had already started arriving; Seokjin’s brother and his wife, along with their two twin boys who were a couple of years younger than Arin. Aunts and uncles, and a few cousins, Seokjin’s friend Namjoon, who had two children; a 9 year-old daughter and a four year-old son, and then a few of Arin’s friends, some from various clubs she attended and two you recognised from school. They recognised you too of course, and you overheard Arin adorably telling them that you were her “daddy’s girlfriend.” No matter how much time past, and no matter how natural this all felt now, you were still so happy that Arin was on board with all this. It was the best feeling.

Seokjin’s parents were the last to show up seeing as they lived quite far away, and you waited nervously to meet them as your boyfriend took their luggage upstairs to one of the guest rooms. Meeting his brother and his friend and the rest of his family hadn’t been bad at all, so you were feeling very optimistic by now. Still, you could hear your heart beating frantically when you saw Seokjin leading them into the kitchen where you were blowing some last minute balloons.

“You must be Y/N,” his mom greeted with a smile, arms wide as she walked towards. With a quick embrace she kissed you on the cheek. Seokjin had warned you about that.

“Hi, it’s really nice to meet you,” you smiled back, relaxing slightly down to her warm attitude. (It also helped Seokjin had taken place by your side, arm brushing against yours.) You glanced towards his father, greeting him with the same smile and he gave you a nod, a friendly “Likewise,” leaving his lips. Seokjin had also let you know that his father was the silent, polite type. Seokjin was similar. They even looked quite alike. His mom was slim and elegant, and incredibly beautiful.

“You’re even prettier than your pictures,” she informed you, taking your hands in hers.

“Pictures?” You chuckled nervously, glancing up at Seokjin.

He groaned quietly. “I may have sent her a couple of us together. My mom’s very nosey. Dad not so much.”

“Oh,” you blurted, hearing his father laugh. You smiled coyly back at Mrs. Kim. “Thank you.”

“Nonsense. I’m not nosey,” she insisted, raising an eyebrow at her son. “Curious, I’d call it.”

Seokjin chuckled. “Of course, mom – Oh!” Something caught his attention out of the window and he rushed off, opening the sliding glass door to stick his head out. “Arin, your grandparents have arrived. Come say hi.”

Mrs. Kim let go of your hands as Arin came dashing in like a hyper puppy. “Grandma! Grandpa!” She squealed, throwing herself into her grandfather’s arms. “It’s my birthday!”

“Is it?” He asked, playing clueless, but he couldn’t keep it up for long. “Of course it is!” He kissed her cheek. “Happy birthday, pumpkin.”

“Happy birthday, Arin. Are you having fun so far?” Her grandma asked, fluffing her hair. Arin went to hug her next. “What gifts did you get? We have yours in the car, but you have to wait until later, okay?”

Arin nodded, before proceeding to talk all about her day. She didn’t come up for air, which was highly amusing for all four of you. However, inevitably, she got bored, her hand slipping into yours, tugging it gently for your attention. “Y/N, can we go and see if the buffet is ready now?”

“Of course we can.” You glanced at your watch, then up at Seokjin who was doing the same. It was half past two, you’d agreed to start eating at 3pm. Arin’s senses were perfect.

“No sneaking anything off the table, young lady.” Seokjin told her. “Especially not cake. You won’t have to wait long.”

Arin couldn’t help but giggle at that, already beginning to drag you off.

You were on your way back from the lower floor bathroom when you bumped into Seokjin’s mother again. She was stood by the dining room entrance, rooting around in her purse, pulling out her cell phone. “Oh, Y/N, dear, I was just getting my phone so I could take a few pictures of Arin. I need to show them to my mother. She’s a bit too old to make the journey down here.”

“Awh, that’s a shame,” you replied, coming to a halt politely.

With a nod, she changed the subject. “I’m so glad the weather is hot for her birthday.”

“I know. She’s been so excited, hasn’t been able to stop talking about it for the past month,” you laughed. The party had been a success, the food and games going down a treat. It had been a long time since you’d attended a child’s birthday party – your siblings were long past that age, and you’d forgotten how fun they could be, even if you were much older now.

Being surrounded by Seokjin’s family wasn’t as nerve-wracking as you’d initially thought. They were all so lovely – not that you didn’t expect anything less, of course, you were just thankful you could hold a natural conversation with his mom.

“She really likes you. I can tell.” Mrs. Kim said out of the blue, surprising you, but you tried to hide it well.

Smiling softly, you replied, “I’m fond of her too.”

“I heard you were her teacher?”

“For a short while.” You nodded. “That’s how Seokjin and I met.” But you guessed she already knew that, you know, mother’s curiosity and all.

Her mouth quirked up and then she snorted. “My son definitely knows how to make an impression. I heard he hit your car?”

Laughing, you’d been correct. He had told her how you’d met. “Yeah, but I try not to tease him too much about that anymore.”

“It sounds like fate, no?” She smiled, before shaking her head and raising a hand. “Sorry, I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. The first time my husband and I set eyes on one another it was love at first… You probably don’t want to hear about that,” she chuckled. You opened your mouth, ready to disagree, but she spoke again. “I just… I haven’t seen Seokjin this happy in a very long time. Not since Arin was born.”

Speechless, you tried to think of something to say. Just what? “Oh, I –”

“What are you two conspiring about in here?”

You heard Seokjin’s voice from behind you and turned to see him walking towards you both with a grin on his face. When he reached you he cupped your waist, kissing you on the cheek. His mom watched on fondly.

“Nothing… much,” she replied, a teasing lilt to her voice. It caught his attention. “I was just telling Y/N that I haven’t see you this happy in years.”

“Mo-mm,” he whined, immediately growing red.

“What? I’m just speaking the truth, Seokjin,” she laughed and looked in your direction. “He gets embarrassed so easily. Have you noticed?”

“I have,” you laughed along.

Smiling tenderly at him, she stepped forward and touched his arm. “I’ve loved hearing my son laugh all afternoon.” Seokjin dropped his head, even more embarrassed now. He was cute. “Okay.” She clapped her hands, taking pity on him. “That’s enough from me. I’ll leave. Your father’s probably on his third slice of cake by now…” Kissing Seokjin’s cheek softly, she began to walk off. “You love me really.”

“Of course,” Seokjin called, turning to you once she’d left, heading back in the direction of the garden. “Sorry about that.”

You chuckled. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. We were just talking.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him. “You’re cute.”

“You’re never too old to be embarrassed by your mom,” he muttered, kissing the top of your head. Snorting, you leaned back, but he held you tight, gazing into your eyes. “You look really pretty today.”

“You say that every day.”

“Because it’s true.” He kissed your lips, stopping any clever remark you may have had dead.

Instead, as he pulled away, you brought your hands up to his chest, straightening the collar of his shirt. “Let’s get back outside. I’m enjoying myself.”

“I’m glad.” Seokjin beamed, eyes twinkling.

At that moment, it hit you how happy he looked… You’d not really noticed it prior, but now his mom had pointed it out it was so obvious.

You hoped he could tell just how happy you were too… It was all down to him, after all.

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bangtansorciere #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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kookingtae · 4 years ago

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falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!

Jungkook could never face Y/N again.

God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?

Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.

But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.

Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.

But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.

He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.

As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—

Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.

He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.

While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.

He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.

“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.

Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.

She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”

The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.

And so he stopped fighting.

“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.

Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.

“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.

“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.

Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.

And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.

Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?

The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.

He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.

At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.

Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.

He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.

The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.

It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.

“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?

She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”

As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.

You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.

But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.

“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.

Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”

“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”

You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.

“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”

You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”

Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.

A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.

You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.

But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.

Unless…

Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?

Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.

“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”

And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.

If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.

You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.

“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts scenario #i hope this is good enough for the time being!!! im sorry its taking me so long to get pt 8 posted #u guys are the best i love u <3333

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chipper-asks · 3 years ago

Note

Any tips on how to grow your own blog by chance?

Aah man I've written a response to this kind of question many times but I always delete it because I'm afraid of coming off as self centered or arrogant, but I definitely have some tips on what works and doesn't work (on tumblr.)

I will say that I never believed I would get to the "Big Fandom Artist" stage. I've seen people drop my name in conversations or descriptions and just assume other people know who I am and that's still incredibly wild to me. I never really pushed to get a big blog it really just happened.

But! I do have rules and personal guidelines that might help if you are thinking of actively building your blog!

1: Keep personal information and vent posts to a minimum

It should go without saying that its not a good thing for your personal information to be on the internet. Once its out there its near impossible to erase. This is for your own safety.

Vent posts give out more information than you might think, but also some people who are following you may be going through difficult times themselves. I go on the internet to get away from my stressors and problems and i've specifically catered my dashboard to reflect my desires. I have no doubt others are the same.

I've unfollowed mutuals because they vented too frequently. I enjoyed what they made! But it stressed me out to read their vent posts because I couldn't help. I realized it was taking a toll on my mental health and I made the tough decision to unfollow.

It is very tempting to vagueblog because its nice getting out all the angry feelings, but a blog with thousands of people following it is not the place to do it.

2: Shitpost vs Quality Foley

I could go into a massive essay on this alone (ive even written out an outline already) but i'll keep it as brief as I can.

Throughout my time on Tumblr I’ve seen a number of posts of artists complaining about the lack of notes on their serious work compared to the abundance of notes on their shitposts.

This is because Tumblr IS a place of shitposts. It's like squeezing a clown nose and expecting it not to honk.

However! It's more complicated than that and i've broken it up into four parts organized by importance.

A. Relevance/Meta: Is it something that people are already familiar with? Is it something that's currently going on?

People want to enjoy things they're already familiar with. For example, people getting into Hollow Knight are more likely to follow a blog that posts HK content regularly over a HK blog that posted a picture of Grimm once and then is full of original content. It's not that people don't like your original stuff, its just not what they're looking for.

If you like striking while the iron is hot, meta jokes are the way to go. Making references to games like Among Us during the height of its popularity for example would get you lots of notes.

B. Hilarity

Is it funny? Does it subvert expectations?

Shitposts will always be more popular than a well drawn post. People like to laugh and share things that laugh. A cool, well drawn post is more often than not met with a "hm, cool. scrolls down."

This is a polished comic I made 10 months ago. I'm very proud of it and i'm pleased with the amount of attention it got. It took me 2 days to finish.

This is a shitpost I made 3 years ago that I still haven't been able to top. It took me 30 minutes to make.

That's not to say a well drawn post can get popular! It's just that people enjoy a good laugh over something shiny. This is a factor of knowing your audience. Some things land better than others and you'll be better off if you just roll with what you get.

I will say tho I appreciate the people who reblog my oc posts 200x more than people who reblog my shitposts and fanart. Those are quality followers and you must cherish them.

C. Appeal

Is it cute? Is it fluffy? Is the design easy to understand? Does it make people emotional? Is it angsty? Is it relatable?

People like cute shit. People like things that make them hurt (albeit not too much). People like things that they can see themselves in.

D. Skill

There is some merit in being good at what you do. People do like funny things more than shiny things, but shiny things are cool too.

If you post things that are funny? You're normal horoscopes.

If you post things that are well drawn? (its really telling that I can't think of someone right off the top of my head)

If you post things that are funny AND well drawn? Well then you're iguanamouth

3: Know your boundaries.

There's a difference between being understanding/tagging things correctly and catering to people who want you to be someone else.

I know that many people get upset with others who gender the vessels in Hollow Knight. While it doesn't bother me, I can recognize the misgendering of vessels as a source of dysphoria and I tag accordingly.

If someone comes into my inbox and tells me to stop drawing a character because they're "problematic," I'm just going to block them and go about my day.

4: This is your blog, its your rules.

I'm apologetically myself on my blog. I post what I want and what inspires me. The reason why I have so many AUs is because its my blog and I like AUs. If a large portion of the fandom doesn't like my AUs, its their loss, I make great AUs.

In fact, its just a good mindset in general to have. If some people don't like what you make, its not your problem. It makes you happy and it makes hundreds of others happy then continue to do what you do. It's impossible to have a large following and not have someone who dislikes you purely out of spite.

Make stuff for yourself, not because you want numbers.

5: Don't feed the trolls.

If someone sends you hate, take a picture of it, share it with your friends, laugh, block the person, delete message, move on with your life.

It's really fun to feed the trolls, but feeding trolls attracts more trolls and soon its not fun anymore. Just laugh when you get your first anon hate, maybe frame it in your room, and don't even acknowledge them with a "fuck you."

6: Recognize your position.

This is more advice for when you do get a big blog. You get to a point when you realize you have a portion of your audience who value much more than a regular human being and are willing to take up arms for you.

Do. Not. Weaponize. Your audience.

It's incredibly shitty and can ruin peoples lives.

7: Post Frequency/Schedule

Now this is one I can't do. It's normal for me to become incredibly active for 2 weeks and then end up posting nothing for a month. I don't have the patience to build up a queue of new things.

However! If you have more discipline than me, posting daily or twice a week builds up anticipation for your next post. You're dependable and people have the chance to look forward to seeing something from you on their dash on Friday.

Thats all I can think of so far.

There's no TL;DR you'll miss my important advice within these tips.

#nofandom #long post

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sheabuttahwrites · 4 years ago

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Something Hot 4 [Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Black OC]

Yahya asks his lady to make him a quick breakfast before work. She agrees, but there’s just one thing she needs him to understand… She will be the first course.

*One Shot (Part IV) - Part III - Part II - Part I

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Explicit Language

gif|*| / image|*|

Thinking we were entering the wind down, I went to sit up and free him of my weight. Especially since he had somewhere to be. But, before I could go too far, he wrapped his strong ass arms around my waist, pinning me to his face. My eyes popped open and instantly rolled back as he parted me and locked onto my already sensitive clit, burdening it further with the roughness of his tongue. I lost it. I wanted to speak, but my voice was overtaken by uncontrollable wailing. My hips also left my charge, going insane, jerking toward his ravenous mouth. “Yaaaaaaah!” I returned my clutches to the sheets in front of me, digging my nails into my own hands as he sucked on my clit with a vengeance. The most conflicting feeling of panicked euphoria hit me. Like stop, but also don’t. Not even a minute later, my thighs began to shudder madly against his face. I screamed his name. Satisfied, he decided to give me a little slack and the force of my orgasm helped me get away from him. My body jolted violently as I fell to his side. It hadn't taken him long at all to get the result I’m sure he was looking to achieve.

I immediately covered my pussy as my quivering hips insisted on rocking into the air. Without an ounce of hesitation, he was right behind me, pulling my legs apart like it was nothing and placing himself between them. I didn't even try to conceal my scowl. He had me fucked up. “Take your ass to woooork.” He laughed and ignored the shit out of me, holding me in place with a heavy arm across my stomach while he lowered his right hand to bully mine away and harass my clit with his thumb. My jaw plummeted. Was he serious? “Babe!” I cried out in amazement, and that was the last audible language my pitiful brain was able to produce. I quickly grabbed his wrist as he shook it recklessly between my thighs. Which was a total waste of time, because my so-called solution had zero effect on him. I whimpered helplessly, realizing and accepting that he literally had me trapped. And he had the nerve to be staring down at me with the most collected expression while I was undoubtedly there losing my mind. I for sure would've slapped him if I had control of any part of myself. Because I damn sure didn't. Each shallow breath, in and out, was accentuated by an explosive sound as my body convulsed wildly underneath him. It felt like blue flames were ripping through my entire existence. I squeezed my eyes shut, my actions very desperately begging him to stop where my words couldn’t. I even tried to use the bed as leverage to push against his solid strength, but I was just fooling myself. My head thrashed about, sending my deafening screams to every corner of the room. None of it had been enough to coax him. I guess this was his way of making me regret coming after him this morning. I’d be lying if I said it wasn't working just as intended. An intense grumble billowed from my chest, as I was convinced that my pussy could supply all the electricity for a small town right now. Lustful moans had turned guttural, filtered through teeth clenched like vice-grips. My hands—as useless as they were—flailed frantically, flying from the sheets, to his body, my body, and back again. Needing to get away, I managed to hoist myself up onto my elbows and willed my hands to the bed, gripping the covers and trying to pull myself free. I learned right away that it wouldn't be enough, so I moved one to his arm, pushing as hard as I could, plunging my nails into his skin. He did not budge.

“Where you going? This what you wanted, love, don’t run.” At the sound of his snarky ass commentary I whined loudly, woeful and defeated, forcing the top of my head into the sheets. Not only was my body betraying me, but I couldn't verbalize anything to defend myself either. All I could do was lay there, wordlessly pleading for mercy that he clearly didn't possess. “Cum for Daddy one more time.” I tried to look at him, but my eyes spun completely white, filling with tears. My clit was on fire. And now he was adding his steamy demands; with that luscious ass voice, rumbling through my ears like warm molasses. He knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. And, bitch, it was working. I clamped my legs around him so tight, but it didn't give me a single flake of relief. His fingers were still very much spinning records on my pounding clit. Deep, throaty breaths were all I could conjure as my chest rose and fell rapidly, somehow still not supplying my lungs with sufficient oxygen. Then something real potent knocked the wind up out of me. My whole fucking body started to tremble. “Do it, baby. I know you can. This right here light work.” Mouth widely agape, my next breath became lodged in my airways as the climax from hell swelled in the pit of my stomach. My back began to arch insanely, gradually lifting me until no part of it was touching the bed. “Oooowee, there you gooo.” The way I gripped those poor sheets, I knew they had to be torn. This was the one right here! I squeezed my eyes shut and roared into the air as I came harder than I had since we’d started. “Gotdamn!” I collapsed back to the bed, shrieking for my life. Thank God, he finally stopped as I lay sprawled out, shaking, dying. I looked up at him, my eyes half-closed, tears running erratically on my face, barely breathing, letting out the most broken screams and groans; and this man had the nerve to smile at me like the villain he was. “That’s my girl.” He lifted the culprit from the shadows and glanced at his thumb before raking it over his tongue. “Mmmm.” Then he casually tucked his lip under his teeth before swatting my pussy with the backside of his fingers. I whimpered as my body flinched from the impact. “Fucking brat,” he whispered, coming down to kiss my sweat laden forehead. I lifted my face to catch his delicious bottom lip and he responded accordingly, taking on my top. I let go and extended my tongue, pressing it against his and making wet circles before I sucked it into my mouth. After another brief liplock, he brushed over my chin and I flicked my tongue onto his while he went for my bottom lip this time. I grazed the upper row of his teeth, grabbing at his—just as delicious—top lip and moaning into him. Feeling it, I led my hand to the back of his head, deepening our connection as we engaged in the sloppiest kiss. Undeniably one of my favorite kinds. My hips were still squirming beneath him and this interaction wasn't helping the situation at all. I pulled away to get some air. This was about to turn into something else real quick.

“…You are so fucking disrespectful,” I breathed into his ear, finally regaining the ability to make use of my words.

His light chuckle bounced right against mine. Then he kissed it sweetly. “You luh that shit. Sexy ass.” He wasn't wrong. Like, not even a little bit. I just wasn't expecting that much work this morning.

He moved down beside me and I reached for him as soon as I was able, using my arms and a leg to anchor myself to his bulky form. I closed my eyes, knowing he had to go soon, but I needed a few minutes to compose myself. That was a lot, even for me. I think he understood, because he actually held onto me until I was there. Time wasn't on his side, but I guess he had to make sure I was good first. My sweetheart. I was really appreciative, because after all that, I certainly deserved to be held.

I brought my face from his neck and upon seeing him through clear eyes, I couldn't help my smile. He was just so… everything. He returned the gesture and I ran the tip of my tongue right over his lips, hooking the top one before retreating. The look on his face was hilarious. It was the most stale disbelief I believe I’d ever seen. I had always been a hard learner. He was well aware. That’s why I stayed getting into trouble.

“I know your dick hard.”

He stared back for a second and we fell out laughing.

“You ain't shit.” He and I both knew that if he didn't get up and walk away from me right now, he wouldn't be going anywhere today. His gaze shifted toward my mouth and I closed my eyes again, anticipating his touch. As he gently parted my lips, I reached for his jaw, giving it light, loving strokes. He finished with a soft peck and lingered there, breathing quietly onto my face. It was killing him. When he pulled away he didn't have words, just adoring stares that never left me. I smiled, still caressing his face. He was heading in to kiss me again when his phone rang. An exaggerated groan was his response as he jumped up and jogged toward the sound. “Fuck.” I assumed it to be Josh, his business partner, calling. “Yo… Ok, what time does he need to reschedule for?… He’s there now?” He took the phone from his ear to check the time. “Shit. Ok. Tell him half an hour earlier is the best we can do at this short notice… Ok, good. You may have to start without me, though. I’m running late… I know, man. I’m coming.”

I put my hand over my mouth, laughing to myself after seeing the look of mild disdain he’d given me. Wasn’t my fault he lacked self-control. Hell, I had only requested a quick little five minutes.

“Look what you did.”

I laughed harder as he rushed back to the bathroom. I heard the shower start up and figured I’d already been punished enough for today. So I decided to wash up and go down to the kitchen to make him that breakfast. I tied on my apron and put some thick cut bacon into the oven first since it would take the longest. I mixed a couple of eggs with a little salt and pepper and sat them to the side. Once the bacon was almost done, I put an open croissant on the rack above it to toast, and went back to scramble the eggs. I left them to stay warm and emptied the oven, getting the glistening strips onto some paper towels. I quickly sliced a perfectly ripe avocado and spread roasted red pepper aioli on the bottom half of the buttery croissant, layering the eggs on after. Next, I topped that with a piece of smoked gouda, a few leaves of baby spinach, avocado, and finally the bacon. I was sure to pile it high since it was all he would be having, and I double wrapped it in parchment and foil so that it wouldn't lose too much heat. He’d obviously earned a hot and filling meal. Last, I made him a cup of the ridiculously strong coffee he loved so much; no sugar, no cream. I rejoined him upstairs just as he was stepping out of the closet, fully dressed in a long-sleeved turtleneck, slim fit dress pants, and Ferragamo loafers; all black. Had his ankles out and shit. And he was pulling on his black overcoat. The one that went down to his knees. Whew!

“Damn.” I belly flopped my naked self onto the bed, my eyes glued to him. “Your breakfast is on the table by the door. Wit’ yo’ fine ass.” I scoped him from head to toe, being a deliberate pervert. “Shit.”

He dropped his head and glanced up, flashing me those pearly whites, and I melted. “Thank you, baby.”

“Boy, you better stop, ” I warned, turning away and smiling sheepishly.

“You the one. You know you don’ fucked up, right?” he firmly asserted, strolling toward me.

Somehow, I was no longer an adult. “I didn’t even do nothin’.” I spoke in a cute, low tone, smiling up at his lofty frame as he came to stand directly in front of me.

“Mhmm. You wanna play coy now.” He came down to my face and kissed me so delicately, grasping my chin and lightly tugging on my bottom lip as it ended. I felt that shit in my knees. Then he reached back and gave my ass a very healthy smack. The duality. “Mmmm.”

“Have a good day, babe. I love you.”

“I love you.” He picked his bag up from the chair and started for the door. “Check your phone. I put a lil’ something in your account.”

I grabbed it from the nightstand and went into my banking app. The first transaction in my personal checking was a deposit transfer from Y. A-M II for five thousand dollars. “Ooooh,” I cheered, doing my little happy shimmy and making him laugh. “Thank you, Zaddy.” This wasn't out of the ordinary, but I was still enormously grateful for his boundless generosity. “This pussy tasted gourmet to you, huh?”

“Every time.”

I laughed aloud, watching him seemingly glide across the carpet. His smoothness truly transcended words. “You're too kind.”

“Go enjoy yourself. And, um,” he came to a stop in the doorway and turned to me with a subtle grin, dragging his thumb over the corner of his lips, “I’ll be back around six, six-thirty. You should probably try to get some rest, too.”

taglist: @blackburnbook @tuamore1101

-taglist- Shea Buttah Bakery Masterlist

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wyattwaslesslazy · 2 years ago

Note

EISHJANFIAHS HIIIII!!!! HOW ARE YOU DOING????

Came here at godspeed but idk what to ask hmm WHATS YOUR FAVORITE FRUIT?? ICE CREAM FLAVOR?? FAVORITE DRINKS??

COMFORT FOOD THAT YOU WOULD SHARE WITH A GHOUL AND WHICH GHOUL WOULD YOU SHARE IT WITH???

anyway i hope you have a GOOD DAY!!!!!!! AND PLENTY OF TIME TO DRAW MORE GHOULS DHSJHEHEHEH 😈😈🛐🛐🫶🫶🫶🫡

HDHWJFHEJDJD HI HELLO YES LOVELY TO SEE YOU AGAIN!!! IM DOING GOOD!!! TIRED FROM A TRIP TO WALLY-WORLD (walmart) BUT!!! DOING GOOD HAVE PLANS FOR LATER SO *CRI*

MY FAVORITE FRUIT?? ME CAUSE IM FRUITY NEXT QUESTION. I REALLY LOVE BLACKBERRIES, I COULD EAT THEM FOR LIKE EVER. THOSE AND SATSUMAS

ICE CREAM FLAVOR IS MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP AND EVERYONE CAN FIGHT ME ON THIS ITS GOOD. HFHDJDJ IVE BEEN PICKED ON JOINGLY ABOUT IT BUT ILL DEFEND IT WITH MY LIFE. YOU WANNA GET TO MY HEART RIGHT AWAY??? GIMMIE GIMMIE THAT MINTY CHOCOLATEY GOODNESS

DRINKS??? APPLEY JUICE, HOT CHOCCY, AND SPRITE NEXT QUESTION

blease????? Blease I have a comfort food that my mom used to make a lot,, it's a deer sausage and red gravy with rice and corn hrjehfjs i learned how to make it awhile ago and still to this day it's such a favorite,,, I'd so love to cook this for Swiss, I dunno brain yelled for that ghoul and I'd love to have him in the kitchen with me while I cook and talk with him jrbfjdh we might get distracted for a bit but it's fiiiine it's fiiiiine hrjdh but if I were to choose a Ghoul OC??? Hmmm... I'd love to share the food and the moment with either Dusk or @/ghostsseeghosts' twins brjdbdj i dunno I feel it'd be chaotic bit nice XD I feel like I'd have to slap Adria's hands a couple times when I catch her picking from the pot bEFORE THE FOOD IS DONE HFJEBDJDJ I give Dusk the whacking spoon and put her on guard duty xD

HFJDJDJ TY TY ILL SEND YOU SOME QUESTIONS TOO!! HERE IN A MINUTE JFNDJFJD AND and sadge but ghoul art may have to wait because I got a Lotta things happening tonight n tomorrow XD

#new job is happening and im NERVOUS AND EXCITED #hrhdj and im doing a friendsgiving tonight!!

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cjtheghost-14 · 3 years ago

Text

I posted 91 times in 2021

45 posts created (49%)

46 posts reblogged (51%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.0 posts.

I added 70 tags in 2021

#oc - 12 posts

#attack on titan - 9 posts

#aot - 8 posts

#digital art - 7 posts

#aot edit - 7 posts

#snk - 7 posts

#voltron - 6 posts

#genshin impact - 6 posts

#diluc ragnivindr x reader - 4 posts

#diluc ragnvindr - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 60 characters

#that was probably the best damage ive ever done in that game

My Top Posts in 2021

Sentence Starter Prompts (send in some requests!)

“You look like you could use a hug”

“Huh? Over there? Hold on, I’m gonna go kick their ass”

“Where’s your jacket? It’s cold out, c’mere let me warm you up”

“Dammit! How stupid are you!? I’m in love with you!”

“I’m sorry… I-I never meant to hurt you!”

“Is that our song that’s playing? What a perfect night, let’s dance.”

“What’s the one quote from that show you like? Ah, “driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole.” Sounds pretty good to me right now, be quiet my favorite part is coming up.”

“How is that you get even more beautiful every time I see you?”

“I’m not jealous! I just… I just want you to look at me the same way you look at him.”

“I’m going to marry them one day, I just know it…” “What was that?” “N-Nothing!”

“So… random question, what’s your favorite flower?”

“Hey, do you have any extra blankets? I’m sleeping on your couch tonight so I’ll only be a shout away if you need me.”

“Yes, I am upset! Because I’m convinced your my soulmate!”

“Hey… sorry to just show up like this but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I got you some of your favorite snacks. Oh, and your favorite movie, just in case you were up to watch it with me?”

“Listen, I…. I know you’ve had a rough life, but I’ll always be here for you, no matter what”

“Hey, hey, hey, no more apologizing. I’m glad you called me, I meant it when I said any place, any time.”

“I’m helping you, and that's final. I’m not taking no for an answer. Now, where's your kitchen? I’m making us some comfort food.”

“You know, I make the best hot chocolate in the world. Seriously, I’ve asked absolutely everyone on the planet. Everyone except you... what do you say? Wanna make it a global fact?”

“You stayed?” “Well of course I stayed, your here, where else would I be?”

“I knew you wouldn't go to sleep willingly, so I brought you some chamomile tea and a blanket. Twenty minutes of shut-eye, okay?”

“I...sometimes, I guess I kinda wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

“I see you still have my shirt!”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch. Come on, get under the blankets.”

“Hey… you’ve been crying.”

“Don’t think I won’t carry you if I have to!”

“Of course I noticed. I notice everything about you.”

“I knew you wouldn't bring a jacket, so I made sure to color co-ordinate with you so you could wear mine on the way home.”

“Please, talk to me... it kills me seeing you like this.”

“I wish I could just freeze time, let this moment be forever.”

See the full post

72 notes • Posted 2021-11-14 21:05:25 GMT

hi! could i request a leo valdez x reader with prompt 22: “I see you still have my shirt!” thank you💕

Of course you can! Your my first request, and I think it’s very fitting for it to be for Leo. He was the first character I found out what x reader fan fiction was. Thanks for the request!

When The Tables Turn - Leo Valdez x Reader

Notes: Sorry this is a little short, and a little like my first Leo x reader... uh, but I like this one better anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: You wake up in a field one day, injured and with no memories. All you have is a white button up that seems oddly important. (This plot is as if the reader replaces Percy when his memories are taken in HOO)

Warnings: Swearing, Blood, Memory Loss, Slight Angst, Fluff, Unedited

You could feel your consciousness slowly coming back to you as the sun rose. Your body was numb. You couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or the injuries from last night. Last night? Wait, how long have I been passed out...

You force your eyes open, squinting at the bright sun, wanting nothing more than to retreat back into the open arms of your dreams. But that’s when your surroundings come into focus. You bolt up, wincing at the sudden pain that shoots through you. What had even happened?

Your eyes scanned the field you were in, wildflowers growing in colorful explosions all around you. You grab your bleeding side, coating your hand in blood. You look down, slow to process what you were seeing. Red stained the dirty white button up you were wearing. “This isn’t my shirt...” You whisper, voice coming out hoarse, making you think you haven't had anything to drink in the past few days.

You tried desperatley to think back to what had brought you into this situation, but you couldn’t. Everything was blurry. You had a vague memory of a monster attacking you last night... something snake like with three heads. But other than that all you knew was your name and age, that was about it. You look down at yourself, hoping that maybe your attire would jog your memories. Instead it confuses you even more. You were wearing an orange t-shirt that read “Camp Half-Blood.” and jean shorts. And that damn white button up that hung loosley around your shoulders. You knew it wasnt yours, but you could feel some connection with it. It almost felt safe. You didn’t understand. You were who knows where, with no memory, all you have is a probably deadly injury and a button up that felt important. In short, you were screwed.

***

It had been a few months since you had first woken up with no memories. You wish you could say that things were clearer now, but they were the opposite. You found out demigods existed, and apparently you were one. You met a bunch of other demigods. A bitchy son of Apollo, a sweet daughter of Pluto, and a nice son of Mars. You had just been on a quest with two of them, making things all the more complicated for you. No memories had come back to you in your time here, only feelings. Since you had awoken in that field a few months ago, you became more and more attached to that button up, refusing to take it off. It had some connection to your past, you knew it. And it was important.

You were currently in a conversation with another demigod, Reyna. The topic being your memories. “Are you sure you cannot remember a single thing?” She asks again, for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Yes, Reyna, I’m sure. I don’t know what else I can do, I already went on that crazy fucking quest!” You exclaim, growing desperate. You didn’t know how much more you could take.

As if the gods heard you, a giant shadow appears over you. You watch as Reyna’s eyes widen, looking up to the sky. You follow her gaze to see a giant greek warship flying above the city, coming to a stop close to where you were standing.

The whole city of New Rome falls silent as they watch a rope ladder be dropped off the side of the ship, a string of people starting to climb down it. A crowd begins to form as the outsiders reach the ground. One boy is looking around desperately, ignorning the threatening looks he was getting from the crowd. You watch as Octavian is about to speak up, but before he can the boy’s eyes land on you.

It’s as if time stops as you stare at him. There was something familiar about him. He was short and had curly brown hair that was falling into his eyes. Oh, and his eyes. A warm brown that felt as if they were staring into your soul. A huge smile grows on his face as he looks at you, shouting to you from across the crowd. “I see you still have my shirt!”

Your slow to process what he is saying. His shirt? Thats when the dam in your mind breaks, memories bursting out. You remembered everything. You remembered Leo.

You don’t hesitate as you begin to sprint through the crowd, knocking over people in your way. “Leo!” You shout as you break through the crowd, running into his open arms. He grabs your waist, spinning you around.

“Y/N!” He shouts happily, tears welling up in his eyes as he peppers your face with kisses. “You came back to me...” He whispers, pulling you in for a close hug. You melt into his arms, remembering how warm he is, remembering how clingy you always were, remembering everything youve ever loved about your soulmate.

“Leo...” Is the only thing you can manage to choke out before he pulls back slightly, staring at you with a dreamy expression on his face. “My Y/N...” He whispers before kissing you softly.

In that moment he is your only thought, your only concern, your only memory. You’ve found your happiness once again. And you would fight tooth and nail to keep that button up of his. You were right, it was connected to your past, and it was very important.

***

The next morning, Leo had his arms wrapped around your waist protectively and his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. As soon as you two had been reunited he had been very clingy, and so had you. Hedge hadn’t been able to make you sleep in your own rooms last night, you both needed to hold eachother. You would have stayed up all night talking to him if you hadn’t been so exhausted. And he had been so warm and comfy you fell asleep almost immediatley. Now waking up, all you wanted was to go back to sleep in his arms. You almost did too, but then Leo spoke up.

“I’m sorry...” He mutters, nuzzling his face further into the crook of your neck. “I should never have let you be taken like that, Y/N... I’m so sorry...”

Your eyes widen at his words. You had been with Leo for years, you shouldve known he would blame himself, and yet you were very upset that he was apologizing for something he couldn’t control. “Oh darling, no... don’t apologize.”

“Y-You can keep that shirt, you look so cute anyway, and I’ll make you (your favorite food), and we can watch (your favorite movie), and I’ll take you on so many romantic dates, and never let you out of my arms again!” He exclaims, voice breaking.

You roll over in his arms, cupping his face in your hands while rubbing his cheek with your thumb. “Leo... it wasn’t your fault... everything is ok, I promise. I’m ok, I’m perfect now that we’re together.” You whisper before kissing him gently.

He takes a moment to admire you, wiping his forming tears away before they could fall. “Promise?”

“I promise.” You say softly. Leo only showed this sensitive side to you. You knew how to comfort him so he could genuinely smile again. And after a few hours of quality time, he did.

100 notes • Posted 2021-11-15 07:52:24 GMT

For the prompt thing, how about number 3 for Diluc x Reader? :3

Yeees, I think we all need some Diluc content!

Wool Coats And Weddings - Diluc x Reader

Notes: Another short self indulgent fic, sigh, the ending was a little rushed, sorry! Hope you like it!

Summary: Your boyfriend was often busy with work, so you jumped at the chance to spend time with him. He told you he cleared his schedule for you one night and you rushed over, only to find a long awaited surprise waiting for you.

Warnings: Fluff, Fluff, and more Fluff

It had been a long day for you. You had volunteered to do a particularly hard commission at the adventurers guild. Your whole body was sore as you trudged to Dawn Winery, eager to meet your boyfriend, Diluc. He had mentioned that he set aside some time for you tonight. He was often very busy, so you were excited to spend time with him.

As you approach the winery a cold wind blows over you, nipping at your skin. You scrunch up your nose, feeling it start to numb. You pick up your pace despite your aching feet, desperate to retreat into Diluc’s warm arms.

As you reach the winery, you quickly nod and mutter a few quick hellos to the workers outside before hurrying into the mansion. Your eyes scan the expensively decorated foyer before your gaze meets another’s. Cold ruby eyes that only softened when they saw you. You smile brightly, standing still and admiring Diluc for a moment. A soft smile to match your own appears on his lips as you advance towards him, hugging him tightly.

“Oh, there you are, I’ve been waiting for you.” He says with a soft chuckle, ruffling your hair.

“Hmm, sorry I took so long.” You mutter, voice coming out muffled as you bury your face into his chest. “Ran into cryo slimes on my way home.”

“Oh? Is that why your so cold darling?” He asks softly before pulling you closer, rubbing your back gently as he kisses the top of your head.

You hum in response as he pulls back to look at you. “Why don’t we go on a walk?”

“That sounds lovely.” You whisper before kissing him, letting him rest his hand on the small of your back, leading you outside.

The stars outside seemed even more beautiful with Diluc by your side. The whole world did. He leads you further into the winery, far out into the rows of grape vines, lightning bugs flashing every now and then. You glance up to dragonspine, even that freezing landscape looked beautiful. Everything was perfect. You barely even noticed how you were shivering, the cold seeping into your bones.

Of course, what you failed to notice, Diluc did not. “Where’s your jacket?” He asks, concern lacing his words. “It’s cold out, come here, let me warm you up” He says before slipping off his own jacket, laying it across your shoulders.

You smile brightly, your love growing for Diluc even more after that romantic gesture. You often forget your jacket, so it wasn’t unordinary for Diluc to lend you his jacket. But every time he did, butterflies formed in your stomach. You were convinced you had found your soulmate.

“Thank you, love.” You say softly before slipping your hands into the wool lined pockets of the jacket. That’s when your fingers ghost over a small velvet box. Your heart stops as you rub the soft material, fingers gliding over the the curved edges. If you weren’t mistaken, it was a ring box. Your mind immediately jumped to conclusions. Was Diluc going to propose?

A moment passes before Diluc glances over at you, noticing your shocked expression. His face contorts with worry, stopping in his tracks as he speaks softly to you. “Darling? Is everything alright?”

Your too stunned to answer, or hear him for that matter. Your mind was going a mile a minute. Could he really be proposing? You had been dating for a few years now. You had even talked about marriage before. But you were still shocked. Then you reminded yourself that it may not be a ring box at all. And even if it was, it didn’t have to be an engagement ring. But… you secretly hoped it was.

“Darling?” Diluc repeats, snapping your attention to him. You watched as his expression slowly changed from concern to realization. “Oh…oh!” He exclaims before hanging his head, hiding his face from your view. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Diluc…” You whisper, your hope growing more and more by the second. Before you can say anything else he takes your hand, leading you faster through the winery.

“I just wish you had brought your coat love, the surprise would have been more enchanting.” He says, although there is no anger in his voice. Your mind is slow to process his words. Could this really be happening?

Before you have a chance to ponder, you reach the tree line. There’s a soft glow coming from deeper in the forest. Diluc leads you onwards, leaving Dawn Winery behind. You watch as the light becomes brighter before the trees opens up to a small clearing. Lanterns were placed around in the branches of surrounding trees and there were even some nestled in the grass, giving the clearing a soft glow. In the middle of it all is a dinner table, wild flowers in a vase on top of it, along with a lavish meal.

“Wow…” is all you manage to choke out, staring in complete awe at the scene in front of you. Suddenly, you feel Diluc’s gloved hand slip into the pocket along with yours, grabbing the velvet box.

Your head snaps over to him as he smiles softly, getting down on one knee. “I was going to wait until after dinner, but seeing as you already know…” he trails off, opening the box, revealing what you had been expecting all along. A beautiful engagement ring. The band was gold with silver leaves decorating it. A diamond was nestled in the middle, shimmering in the glow of the lanterns. “Y/N… will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You shout, not hesitating as the fog of your mind clears. You had never been more sure about anything in your life.

He chuckles quietly, a bright smile adorning his lips. It was a smile he would only ever show to you. “Really?”

“Yes, of course! By the archons, I love you!” You exclaim before jumping into his arms, burying your face into the crook of his neck. You had been waiting your whole life for this moment, and now you knew, no matter what life would throw at you in the years to come, you would always have Diluc by your side.

121 notes • Posted 2021-11-21 02:11:34 GMT

Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader Headcanons

Requests: None (but they are open!)

Notes: Bro so like, my last fanfic kinda blew up a bit so ummm omg thank you, I was kinda losing it, but I decided to post my Diluc headcanons for all my new followers since I don’t currently have anymore fic ideas, so please send in some requests!

Summary: My headcanons for my favorite fluffy haired king and what it’s like to be in a relationship with him <3

Warnings: Burns, Self Harm

Fluffy hair, fluffy fluffy fluffy hair

He acts annoyed when you play with it, but he secretly loves it, trust me

He just melts when you run your hands through his hair, despite the grumpy expression he has on his face

If you can’t see through his expression and stop playing with his hair he will grab your wrist and put your hand back where it was, not saying a word

He’s not as grumpy about it from now on, at least in private (in private he can and will fall asleep as you play with his hair, his favorite way to fall asleep)

Pssst- your the reason he started wearing his hair in a high ponytail, because while playing with it you often tie it up like that

Theres a reason he wears gloves, but he’s never told anyone why

You yourself found out by accident

He forgot to lock the bathroom door one day, and you walked in while he was washing his hands

There was burn marks all over his fingers and palms

When he saw you he panicked. This lead to a very long conversation between the two of you

When he first got his vision, he didn’t know how to use it. Accidents happened. But, apparently some of the burns were self inflicted. Sometimes his past became too much for him

He promised you that had been a long time ago, he was better now that he had you.

Even with his promises you got upset, and it lead to a long night of cuddles. You made him promise to talk to you if he ever felt even a little upset

He promised you, sealing it with a kiss

Nightly strolls!!!

No matter how busy Diluc is he will always to find time to take you on a walk around the winery when the stars are lighting up the sky

He wraps his coat around you on chilly nights, chuckling softly when you snuggle into it. He can’t help but admire you when your bundled up in his clothes

He is feircly protective of you, but he tries not to show it, But he is always sure to veer away from the cryo slimes on your walks, or he takes care of them beforehand, as you sometimes like to wander into Liyue a bit on some nights

Diluc actually gets insanly jealous

He sometimes doesn’t feel good enough for you, so when he see’s you hanging out with Kaeya, for example, he gets really insecure

He tries not to let you know. Poor boy is embarrassed, ok? He loves you so much, and of course he trusts you but seeing you with someone, especially Kaeya, makes him a little upset

He won’t say anything though, but he will get a little distant

It takes him a little while to open up, but when he does you’ll have to comfort him a bit

When his jealously passes and he calms down he apologizes profusely, he doesn’t want to be the “jealous boyfriend”

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154 notes • Posted 2021-11-14 04:57:54 GMT

The Flowers Of Mondstadt - Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader (Soulmate AU)

Requests: None

Notes: I’ve been obsessed with soulmate au’s and Diluc lately so here we are, also this is unedited, I’m tired, deal with it.

Summary: You’ve lived in Inazuma your whole life. While strict and conforming, it was beautiful. It was one of the only upsides to the city of eternity, in your opinion. So you took up sketching its beauties. Particularly, the flowers. You would sit for hours, using your arms as your own personal canvas in an attempt to make yourself as beautiful as your surroundings. And perhaps, to attract the attention of your soulmate. Whatever you drew on your body would appear on your soulmate's body as well. It was your only contact with the outside world, your only lifeline. And finally, the day came where you could compare Inazuma’s flowers to Mondstadt’s.

Warnings: Seperation, Crying, Fluff, Slight Angst

You were five when you learned about soulmate bonds. It was a concept a little complicated for your young mind to comprehend, but your mother had to offer an explanation when you came to her crying that someone invisible wrote something on your arm. She explained to you that everybody born in Teyvat had a soulmate, someone that perfectly complemented you and your personality. Someone made for you. You hadn’t really understood at the time, all you knew was you had a new friend to talk to. So after a moment of staring at the messy word, “Hello?”, written on your arm, you write back, “Hi!”

It was a minute before a new word appeared. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You write, smiling brightly. “What's yours?”

“Diluc.”

***

It’s been years since a new word has appeared on your arm. When Diluc stopped responding you were worried that something had happened. A sick feeling had settled in your stomach for months. Diluc was your only connection to the outside world, he was your only lifeline. He gave you hope of one day escaping Inazuma, making your way to the city of freedom. But it’s been years now, and your hope has slowly faded. Life seemed a little duller after Diluc stopped responding. The only thing that made you feel emotion anymore was drawing the flowers around Inazuma. Despite Inazuma being a harsh and constricting nation, its flowers were beautiful. You had spent years perfecting your sketches of them, your arm was often covered with the drawings. Before Diluc had left, he told you of the flowers that are found in Mondstadt, he even drew a few of them for you. Your favorite had been the Cecelia’s. He promised to pick you a bouquet when you finally met.

Thinking back on the memory made your hands shake, turning the flower you were drawing on your arm to a messy ink stain.

“By the archons…” You mutter to yourself, closing your eyes for a moment. “Why… Why did you leave?” You whisper, voice breaking. A pit was settling in your stomach again. It’s been this way for too long, you were sick of this dismal existence. You didn’t even know if he was dead or alive. The question was plaguing your mind, you needed answers. You needed to be happy.

That was the moment you decided. You needed to escape Inazuma. Your mind started going a mile a minute, thinking of plans, and money, and things you would need. You didn’t stop to consider what it really meant to leave Inazuma. It was your home, and your family was here. And chances are, you would never be able to return. But at the moment, none of that mattered. You were desperate to be happy again.

You bolt up, setting off to find the one man who could help you. Your best friend, Thoma. You knew where he would be, he was supposed to be meeting someone at the docks in Ritou. Apparently, Aether you think his name was, came to Inazuma on a pirate ship. Maybe you could hitch a ride out of Inazuma.

***

By the time you got to the docks, you could see Thoma talking to three strangers. You run up behind him, shouting his name.

He turns, a confused look on his face. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

You skid to a stop in front of him, breathing heavily, your lungs burning from the run. “I… I need to go find him.”

“Go find him? Wh-” He starts to say before stopping himself, eyes widening. “Him.”

“Yes! And I need help, Thoma please.” You beg, ignoring the looks you were getting from the three he had been having a conversation with. “I need him to be happy, Thoma… I need to meet him… I need to meet Diluc.”

Before he can say anything, one of the strangers speaks up. “Diluc? Do you mean… Master Diluc?!” She says in a high pitched voice.

You glance over to look at her, she is a small girl with white hair, and she's floating next to a man with blonde hair, a confused look on his face as well.

“D-Do you know him?!” You ask, the hope you had felt years ago slowly creeping back to your heart.

“Yes, we know him!” The girl says, smiling. “Master Diluc owns a bar and a winery in Mondstadt!”

“So he’s…. He’s alive!” You shout, smiling genuinely for the first time in years. “I need to get to him!”

“Well we came over here on Captain Beidous ship, The Crux! Maybe you can catch a ride too!”

Your gaze drifts over to the other stranger, who’s name is apparently Captain Beidou. She smiles at you, setting her hands on her hips. “It’d be my pleasure, he’s your soulmate I’m guessing? Yeah, you have that look in your eyes. I remember when I met mine, in Liyue Harbor. That’s where I’m heading now, I’d be happy to have you aboard.”

Before you can even process what she said, Thoma speaks up. “W-wow… your… actually leaving.”

You turn to look at him, smiling sadly as you hug him. Thoma was the only one who could even attempt to fill the void Diluc left. “Thoma, I’m not leaving you behind.” You say softly. “I’ll find a way to see you again, I promise.”

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216 notes • Posted 2021-10-29 04:32:41 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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valberryy · 4 years ago

Text

efficacy. — zhongli

hi!! this started out as an oc fic, but i thought i'd convert it to a reader insert!! i tried to change some of the more "explicit" oc info, so hopefully it's fine now!

pairing: zhongli x gn!reader

content warnings: mentions of blood/injury/death, contemplations of/vaguely attempted murder, slight swearing. if these topics are sensitive to you, i'd recommend clicking away.

[Name]'s life would be nothing without order. They found a certain comfort in routines—working at the bookshop with Jifang in the afternoons, working for their less-than-legal clients once night fell. There was an odd kind of safety they found in it, in completed contracts and crossed-out bounties on a board: as they wiped the blood off their blade at sunrise, they found themself glad they no longer lived at the whims of ice, and snow, and migrating deer.

Tonight was odd, though.

A dagger twirled deftly between their fingers, and [Name] raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the informant sitting before them. A mask and hood alike obscured his face, and he seemed almost to hesitate slightly beneath their burning gaze—a newbie, then, or a fool.

"So?" they asked, their voice like a whip-crack in the silence. "Don't waste my time."

"Apologies," he said, and [Name] had to resist the urge to scoff. At another raised eyebrow the informant dug through his things and passed them an envelope.

Gingerly, they tore it open. "...Wangsheng?" they muttered to themself, before glancing back up. "I trust you have the right compensation?"

A stiff, "Of course," was their only response.

The knife between [Name]'s fingers stilled, before it became embedded in the cheap wood next to their now-client's head.

They stood, gave an almost-mocking flourish of a bow, and walked off without another word.

ii.

[Name] did not glance up from the shelf they were restocking when the footsteps of another customer coming up the stairs came into earshot, only saying a gruff, "Welcome," as they grew closer.

Their only response was a content hum, and they resisted the urge to sigh in relief that this particular patron wasn't a chatterbox.

The minutes trickled by in comfortable silence, as the man—for he was a man, [Name] learned, as soon as they looked up and towards his direction—browsed through their selection. The only sounds to be heard were the blowing of the breeze and the idle chatter of people walking past.

"What a fine collection you have," he said, and turned to face the counter they were seated behind. At the sight of his face they were thrust back into two nights ago—an unpleasant evening in a dingy old house, an envelope in one hand and a cheap knife in the other.

Not now, they thought to themself. Not now, when the blood can seep into the floorboards. The smell will hang for days.

"Thank you," they elected to say in reply. "...Will you be buying?"

He nodded, a thoughtful hand on his chin. "Indeed. The entire stock, actually."

[Name] faltered. "The entire…?" They coughed into a fist, regaining their composure and leaning forward on the counter. "That's going to cost you, sir."

They could almost see the excited sparkles around him as he opened his mouth to speak again, and whatever thoughts they had on how elegant and refined he seemed were thrown out to sea.

"Yes, of course," he began, "there truly is no treasure greater than knowledge, after all—there is a subtle nuance to the art to capturing a moment in time so vividly using just words alone…"

As he continued to ramble, [Name] rested their chin on their palm. The daggers concealed beneath their clothes were cool and heavy on their skin—a constant reminder, a subtle threat.

When his voice trailed off they gave a small, polite smile, standing upright again. "If you have the Mora, there should be nothing stopping you, sir."

The faraway, almost dreamy look in his eyes grew lucid at the mention of Mora. "Ah, of course. Mora," he said, and started patting his pockets searching for his wallet.

When neither of them heard the telltale clinking of coins, they glanced at each other almost exasperatedly.

"My deepest apologies—"

"...No, it's okay—"

The knife still burned against their skin, but they brushed it aside for a moment to grab an unwrapped copy of a book under the desk. They held it out to him, their face blank but the faintest, faintest hints of amusement dancing in their eyes.

He was…interesting. Dead men can rarely boast as much.

"Take it," they said, simply.

His eyes seemed to widen in pleasant surprise. "Are you certain?" he asked, and at [Name]'s casual shrug in the affirmative he gingerly took it from their hands.

"Thank you kindly," he said, raising the package in the air and inspecting it. "I'll have to repay you, for this."

They looked at him again, and thought of the envelope from the other night, thought of how they could almost feel his pulse as their fingers brushed just seconds prior.

"I'll hold you to it, then, sir," they elected to say.

Not now, not now, not now.

iii.

On his lips played a gentle smile that [Name] couldn't help but to distrust.

"There's a restaurant I believe you'd like," he had said. "Allow me to treat you for lunch, as thanks."

Their head had thus begun to swim with backup plans and what-ifs. Did he know? Was this some elaborate ruse to poison them? Surely not, right? They had been so careful up until now, too…

They blinked away their initial surprise and canted their head to the side. "Where?"

At that he went off onto another tangent, just as long as the ramble he had gone on a few days prior. [Name] found themself zoning out, glancing at where they knew his jugular was beneath his collar—or perhaps poison during their impromptu outing would fare better?

No, they scolded themself, there would be witnesses at a restaurant.

"...Don't worry, of course, I'll be sure to bring the Mora this time around," he said with a velvety laugh, and [Name] suddenly found themself back in the present.

They leaned forward on the bookstore counter, an eyebrow raised. "I don't even know your name, Mister Philanthropist."

Another smile graced his features, then—apologetic this time, and he outstretched a hand for them to shake. "My apologies," he said. "I am Zhongli, consultant for Wangsheng Funeral Parlor."

Gingerly, they took his hand in turn. They could feel the rhythmic beat-beat-beat of his pulse under their fingers.

Soon, they thought.

"Call me [Name]," they said, and forced themself to smile.

A few days later, it just so happened that both of their schedules were free.

"Would you still be willing to indulge me?" Zhongli asked—he had been visiting more often lately, and it just so happened that many of his visits happened to be on the days [Name] was there, as well. Jifang seemed curious, and honestly they were as well—did he enjoy their company? Was there something about their short, curt responses that didn't turn him away?

Or maybe he was planning something, too?

Nevertheless, despite their raging paranoia, it wasn't like they were in much of a position to complain. Jifang seemed content at their new, distinguished guest, and [Name] took it as an opportunity to learn more about him for the time being.

"...If you so wish," they said, plucking the book he was holding out of his hands to wrap it for him.

"Only if you do, my friend." Damn him and his deflection. "But it is my firm belief that the generous receive what is due to them, in time."

They hummed idly as they thumbed through the book he had chosen—something or other about the natural beauty of Inazuma—and then glanced back up at him.

And that was how they found themself here, they supposed.

Their table was relatively silent compared to some others, but it was by no means uncomfortable or awkward. With the idle chatter of other people and the clear sky above as a backdrop, the two dined in comforting silence—only the clinking of ceramic against each other to be heard, and to [Name]'s surprise, no traces of poison to be found whatsoever.

As the sun began to dip down the horizon, and all their food had been finished and the bill paid, the two found themselves taking a stroll down by the docks. Zhongli's gaze was trained ahead, while [Name]'s flitted about cautiously.

"Forgive me if I'm prying, however…" he began, "...But you're not a native, are you, my friend?"

A jolt, then, a bolt of white-hot fear running through their limbs. Did he know? Did they give themself away?

"I'm not," they said. "I was born abroad."

A satisfied hum was their response, and when they turned to glance at him, they found the smallest of smiles on his face.

"It's getting late," Zhongli said. "Thank you for today. I'd like to do this again, with you."

[Name] took pause at that. They thought once again of the envelope hidden under their drawers, and the knives hidden under their clothes.

They thought about the way Zhongli rambled on about whatever tale it was the storyteller across the street had spun—how "that indeed is one interpretation of it, but in the original text, the author actually meant to imply that…"

There was a pang of what almost felt like guilt in their chest, at that.

"...And I, you," they said, finally, "...my friend."

iv.

Perhaps stumbling into your supposed assassination target's home half-bloody with an arrow sticking out of your side was not the brightest idea, but in [Name]'s defense were two things: first of all, they had no fucking clue it was Zhongli's in the first place, and secondly, they couldn't exactly keep running from their angry former client with an arrow sticking out of their side.

And thus whatever levels of discretion they normally would have had were thrown out the window as they climbed into Zhongli's in the dead of night, and probably knocked something over in the process (if the new bruises were anything to go by).

(To be fair, they had been calling each other friends for a while now. Is this what friends did? [Name] couldn't be sure—their shady friends weren't exactly the best examples, after all.)

They had just sat up and groaned in pain when Zhongli came in, alarmed first at the noise and then at their sorry state.

"...Sorry," they muttered through gritted teeth. "Thought the place was empty—ow, shit! I can—I can do it mysel—"

"Nonsense," he said, his voice and hands firmer than they had noticed before. "...I still haven't repaid you for your favour to me, after all."

They stopped for a moment, at that. "...I thought the lunch was repayment?"

Somehow, Zhongli found it in himself to laugh, albeit tensely. From where they were sitting, they could see his face a lot more clearly than they had before—the tenseness in his brow, the flecks of gold in his amber irises, the way his nose crinkled at the density of the smell of blood.

"No," he replied, "that was a thank you."

They hummed, before hissing in pain again. "Pull the other way; the arrowhead went in at an angle—"

"Ah, yes, my mistake…"

[Name] continued, "I suppose this is your repayment, then?"

They only barely hid their surprise when he shook his head again.

"I'm doing this because I want to, [Name]."

(Somehow, they liked their name better when hearing it from him. Was it the timbre of his voice? Was it the appeal of hearing your name from a man who was supposed to be long-dead?)

"...I see."

As he sealed the last of the bandages and allowed them to adjust their clothes, he helped them over to what they assumed was a guest room, of sorts. He helped them to take a seat on shaky legs, and placed a firm, almost comforting hand on their shoulder.

"Promise me you'll be more careful, my friend."

They glanced away, their face oddly warm. Wasn't blood loss supposed to do the opposite? "I can't guarantee that, Zhongli."

He followed their gaze over to the floor, and then glanced back at them. "If not that, then I'd at least ask you to…rely on me more," he said, and something about the sincerity in his voice struck them as odd.

They almost wanted to burn that envelope in their drawers when they went home.

[Name] glanced back up at him, forcing themself to face his questioning gaze.

"...I'll try."

But only for you.

+1.

In [Name]'s life, there exists a line they do not dare themself to cross. On one side stands sweet Jifang from the bookshop, the tenacious Traveller and their friends, and the ghosts of their loved ones from Inazuma; and on the other stands themself and their other shadowy benefactors.

The first to tread the line between the two was Zhongli—who, despite the bounty on his head, still managed to maneuvre his way into them somehow being able to call him their friend.

Honestly. The Seven damn him and his stupid charisma, and his stupid voice, and his stupid encyclopedic knowledge of silk flowers.

When [Name] woke up, they were not in their home.

Through their shock they failed to register the bandages wound around their torso, and bit back a yelp of pain as the wound threatened to reopen. In the dark they could see their overwear folded neatly on the bed next to them, and Zhongli asleep, slumped over in a chair.

Suddenly, they were acutely aware of the old bone knife under their clothes—their only souvenir from home, unstained by blood for years, and years, and years.

Would Zhongli be its first, then?

Quietly they stood and dug through their folded clothes until they felt it—the uneven blade, the worn-down grooves near the hilt. They skulked their way over to where he slept, and tried to ignore how painfully peaceful his slow, even breaths were.

His eyes fluttered open just as they pressed the blade to his throat. He seemed too calm, though, not even a twitch of his hands or a hitch in his breath to give away any surprise at all. All he did was place a loose grip on their wrist—a stark contrast to their white-knuckled, shaking hand—and ask,

"What are you doing, [Name]?"

They grit their teeth. "...I'm sorry," they said, "but I have a contract to complete."

Something in Zhongli's eyes softened at that. This was his domain, they realised—contracts, and contingencies, and wordplay.

His grip on their wrist tightened, ever so slightly, and he traced his free hand over their clenched jaw. "But so do we," he replied. "I've still never paid you back, after all."

There was a pause, then—a long, pregnant silence.

"May I kiss you?" Zhongli asked, his voice like a whip-crack in the space between them. [Name] said nothing, but the crease between their brows deepened further.

The dagger embedding itself into the floor and the soft, firm press of their lips against his was enough of an answer.

#genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact oneshot #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x reader #too many thoughts!!!!! not enough braincells #i ammm just . barking #hoo #bee writes

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searchingforenadi · 5 years ago

Text

bleeding on the floor is a safety hazard

can i interest you in a secondPOV!OC, KHR fic in these trying times?

i woke up in the middle of the night and vomited this out - i have never been so terrified of my own lack of brain cells.

a brief summary: Your customers won’t stop bleeding in your shop. You realize this might be a problem. (second person!OC, TYL).

You try your best not to stare at the knife in the man’s side.

“Um,” you say, passing over the packaged box of cake. “Here you go.”

He smiles brightly and hands you several bills. There is a sword strapped to his back and you are terrified to even allow the thought that he might be foreign. “Thanks! Keep the change.”

You nod minutely. Then, the actual number of those bills catches up to you like a freight train off the rails. “Wait - ”

But it’s too late - the man, the cake, and his accompanying knife are gone. You look down to find that he’s left behind a puddle of blood.

You breathe in deeply, count to ten, count backwards from ten, and march back to the kitchens to grab some towels and soap.

The cake had been paid twice over - you’ll take a little bit of blood for that any day.

ii.

It’s hard to imagine that something as exciting as a bleeding man would eventually fade into your memories, but that’s exactly what happens.

A week goes by and you’re hauling over a new delivery of flour. It’s tough work but you’ve done this for years - eventually, the shop’s ready for another day.

You reach the front entrance. And stop.

The same man from last week, Knife Man, waves through the glass door. He has a new companion - not a knife - who scowls under a crown of silver hair.

You consider taking the day off.

But no, your bills won’t pay themselves, and if they pay as well as last time, you might even be able to buy a new electric mixer.

Decision made, you flip over the sign and open the door.

“Hi again,” Knife Man says, a smile still on his face. “Sorry about last time.”

“That’s okay,” you say politely, because returning customers are golden. Your regulars are your saving grace. “Nice to see you again.”

“Same to you,” he says, tugging his friend over to the counter. His fingers trail eagerly over the sweets on display as he turns to the man. “Come on, pick one!”

You move behind the register and wait patiently.

“I don’t like sweets!” Knife Man’s friend snaps. “I can’t believe I’m stuck with you today.”

Ever the business owner, you pipe in, “We also have drinks, if that’s more to your taste.”

That gets the man’s attention.

“I’ll just have a coffee then,” he grumbles, fishing out his wallet.

Knife Man joins his friend and grins. “Then I’ll have a slice of tiramisu.”

“This early in the morning?” Knife Man’s friend hisses.

Pointedly avoiding any conversational traps, you say, “Coffee and tiramisu. Together?”

The friend huffs. “Sure, fine. Here, keep the change. For the idiot’s blood.”

You blink at the money shoved into your face. If you had been any other person, you might protest at the clear extortion - it’s just blood.

But you had been raised pragmatically and so, with a smile, you accept the bills.

“Please wait a moment,” you tell them, and get started on the coffee.

In a few minutes, you pack the cake neatly into a little box and hand it over with a cup of espresso.

“Thanks,” Knife Man’s friend grumbles, taking a sip of his drink before glancing back down at the cup. “Huh.”

You don’t challenge any strange noises made over your products, you remind yourself, and smile pleasantly instead.

They leave quickly after, with Knife Man waving once again, and you release a sigh.

“Electric mixer, electric mixer,” you hum, sweeping the floor with a broom. “So very soon, electric mixer - ”

iii.

A few days later, the front door opens and, lo and behold, it’s Knife Man’s friend, silver hair tied behind his head.

You smile in greeting and ponder the possibility that you just might be cursed.

“Two coffees,” he says, with nary a greeting.

You’ve met worse, so you take the money handed to you and make quick work of the order.

It’s clear he’s not interested in making any small talk and, if you’re honest, you’re not really eager to start any yourself.

Soon enough, you hand over two steaming cups over the counter.

“Thanks,” the man says, proving that he’s not yet a lost cause. Under his breath, he mutters, “That damn machine better be fixed by now.”

Technological difficulties - you can sympathize. You wave off the man and get started on your next order.

iv.

You don’t encounter any issues involving blood until a month later, after several more visits from your strangest regulars.

“The usual,” Knife Man says brightly, seemingly oblivious to the cut above his eye and the blood trickling down his face.

Knife Man’s friend casually tucks his clearly burned fingers into his sleeves. “The same for me.”

There is a moment of silence.

How, you wonder, is he going to carry his coffee with burned fingers? You know how that feels. Intimately, in fact - you’re a baker.

But that’s none of your business and so, very politely, you accept the money - stained with suspicious black dots - before getting started on the order.

You hand over the food and coffee and say, “Here you are.”

“Thank you,” Knife Man says, gingerly accepting both the cake and coffee. He stops for a moment before studying you curiously. He smiles broadly. “I’m Yamamoto, by the way. And this is Gokudera!”

Japanese names, you note, even as the newly named Gokudera barks at the man.

“ - the hell are you thinking, you idiot?”

Yamamoto shrugs, somehow unhindered by the food, coffee, sword and blood on his face. “I think we’ve been here often enough.”

You very clearly ignore the incredibly suspicious conversation continuing on before you.

“Good to know,” you say instead, because as nice as it is, having bleeding customers is not the best reputation for any business. “I’ll see you next time, Yamamoto, Gokudera.”

“Same here,” Yamamoto says - his Italian is impeccable, you notice.

Gokudera grunts, eyes boring into you suspiciously.

“You say our names very naturally,” he says slowly, eyes narrowing.

You can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a threat.

“I’m half?” you offer, not sure why it should matter. “I’m not fluent though.”

Yamamoto looks incredibly pleased. “Wow! That makes a lot of sense.”

You… still can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a threat.

“Thanks,” you say, because what else can you say? Your mom’s genes are strong in your veins, so it’s not really surprising.

They leave not long after, Yamamoto calling out goodbye and Gokudera squinting right at you.

You lean over the counter and check the floor, just in case. It’s nearly safe, until you notice several specks of blood all over the counter itself.

“... damn.”

One morning, Yamamato enters the shop with a new companion.

“Hey!” he greets, the early hour not bothering him in the slightest.

It’s suspicious because at this point, you are very aware that Yamamoto does not drink any sort of caffeine.

Very suspicious, you think, staring almost enviously at his non-existent dark circles.

His friend, however, seems appropriately more miserable.

“One cappuccino, please,” the man says, chestnut hair all over the place. His hazel eyes droop slightly.

You smile in sympathy. “Got it.”

“Oh, also,” Yamamoto pipes in, leaning onto the counter. “We’ll be staying here for a while - that okay?”

You blink at the change.

“Sure,” you say, gesturing to the few seating arrangements you have. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

You cut up a larger slice of tiramisu and set it on a plate. As the milk boils, you wonder what’s so different now - Yamamoto always orders to-go.

Pouring the foam over a cup of espresso, you decide it’s none of your business. You didn’t build up your customer base by being nosy.

“Here,” you say, sliding over the cake first. Yamamoto grins in thanks. “And the cappuccino…?”

You watch as Yamamoto’s friend stares blankly into the distance.

“Um,” You say. You look back at Yamamoto. “Is he okay?”

Yamamoto lets out a long laugh.

“He’s fine,” he says, waving a hand. “We just had a long night. Hey, Tsuna. Tsuna!”

The aforementioned Tsuna startles, dark eyes blinking rapidly. “Wha - ?”

You wait patiently as he looks blearily up at you. Raising the drink in your hands, you try again. “Your cappuccino?”

Face flushing slightly, Tsuna moves to grab the drink. “Right! Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay,” you start to say, about to let the cup go, but something slips along Tsuna’s grip.

You catch the cup right as it's about to tilt.

“Careful there,” you say wryly, deciding to skip the dangerous part and setting down the cup on the table. Patiently, you tell him, “It’s hot.”

For some reason, Tsuna’s face darkens even further. “O-Okay, sorry.”

“Not a problem,” you say, shrugging because a missed accident is as good as no accident. “Enjoy your stay.”

They stay for another half hour before departing, and you wave back when Yamamoto says goodbye. Appearing more awake than before, Tsuna gives a half-hearted wave as well.

All in a day’s work, you think, cleaning down their table and moving on to help another customer.

vi.

Two weeks later, Yamamoto’s friend, Tsuna, walks in with the look of someone ready to jump the bridge at any moment’s notice.

Yikes, you think, and put on your best customer smile. “Can I help you?”

The frazzled look in his eyes does not go away.

“I need a drink?” he asks, which is not the strangest way someone has ordered from your shop, but it’s still pretty up there. Rubbing his eyes, he tries again. “Sorry - usually Hayato’s the one to grab them. He never told me the name.”

“Hayato?” you ask, already filing through the people Tsuna might know (it’s a short list, you only have two regulars that dress in suits like those).

Tsuna groans into his hands. “Right. His last name is Gokudera?”

“Ah,” you say, already getting started on the coffee. You try to offer some help. “It’s usually just coffee. Nothing special.”

And just like that, Tsuna’s face transforms from someone wanting to die into someone wanting to die.

It’s not polite to laugh at your customers, you remind yourself, turning back to the coffee. You swallow the bark of laughter in your throat.

By the time you face him again, your face is at its most polite.

“Just one, right?” you ask, ever the professional. Remembering last time, you very carefully pass over the drink.

Tsuna nods silently and slides over some cash.

“Thanks,” he says, before practically flying out the shop.

The moment the door closes shut, you crouch down and let out a loud ha!

Then, you stand up, features settled back to normal, and pocket the cash into the register.

-o-o-o-o-o-

the terrifying part is that there is more to this and it’s not stopping. i imagine MC can be any gender you see them as for now, with a nice amount of respect for local authorities and common sense, and perhaps a dash of great customer service.

this began as an attempt to write some sort of romantic Tsuna/OC fic - which is as big of a joke as I am, because it’s clear MC is too pragmatic for anything like that. at this point, anything is up for grabs.

#why do i even bother #i am so bad at outright romance #when will the day come #katekyo hitman reborn #sawada tsunayoshi #yamamoto takeshi #gokudera hayato #tsuna #fanfic #searchingforenadi #enjoy this subpar late night fic

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yeoldontknow · 5 years ago

Text

Sheltered Hearts: 3

Author’s Note: i am slightly late with this update, but its still his birthday in my time zone so happy birthday yoongs <3 its been a very long time since ive been in this universe, but i admit it was A LOT of fun being back. this chapter is dedicated to @iq-biased who has been the most engaged and encouraging reader, and this story’s biggest advocate. i love u <3 Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (oc; female) Genre: enemies to lovers au; vet au; romance; fluff; angst Rating (this chapter): PG-13 Warnings: light swearing; medical talk; depictions of surgery on a dog (these are not graphic); depictions of blood; depictions of exposed bone (again, not graphic); yoongi being a big softie but trying to be tough about it; reader is too proud to admit she has a crush; big science brains Word Count: 7.2K

masterlist

Dr. Kern agrees to meet you at his medical lab two hours north, replying to your initial request email with an expediency that both is both surprising and reassuring. With his confirmation of interest, Dr. Hague approves the journey, handing you a thumb drive containing Casper’s CT, MRI, and X-Ray scans and affirmations of optimism.

Poised and graceful, Yoongi leans against his desk and watches this exchange with an expression you find uncharacteristically warm. A small smile plays at his cheeks, gaze focused intently on your hand you pocket the drive, neither supportive nor encouraging merely interested, his eyes twinkling with a hidden mischief married with unbridled fascination.

The arresting combination of these things transforms him, breath halting in your throat as it is caught off guard by his sudden shift into someone boyish, sweet, and young. Blinking, you wait for the vision to dissipate, but his smile remains, his focus is unwavering, and the swell of his cheeks almost too youthful for the terse man you know him to be.

Something about his gaze feels too interested, too curious, and you find yourself starting to bristle, all at once vulnerable and exposed. You always knew he burned with great intensity, his steadfast attention penetrative, rooting around in you, though not altogether combative. In this brief moment of silence, you realize he is learning you, seeing you, and you think, perhaps, this is the first time you have truly been witnessed.

‘I’ll go with you to meet him,’ he resolutely declares, arms crossed over his chest in casual nonchalance.

With this sudden announcement, Yoongi breaks the spell he cast of his own accord, the low rumble of his voice wiping away the embers of passion you saw in him. His lips crease back into the impartial emptiness he usually wears, corners of his mouth always threatening to turn downward into a frown. Bewildered, you wonder which of these dichotomous versions is the real Yoongi, which shell takes work to push and hide away.

Dr. Hague hums in approval, nodding his encouragement. Gaze shifting between both their placid, understanding stares, witnessing their silent conversation, the first tendrils of exasperation floods your synapses. Hands at your sides, you wait for the frustration you normally feel to follow suit, but it never comes. You wait and wait, expecting a snide remark from Yoongi or expecting your chest to boil with the threat of being challenged, but all you can manage is a tepid pool of annoyance, twisting your usual fervor for independence into a tired exclamation of impatience.

‘Why?’ you toss with a roll of your eyes, grabbing your things before exiting the office. ‘You don’t think I can handle dropping off some stem cells and scans?’

A bemused chuckle follows behind you, Yoongi pushing himself from the desk to trail behind, hot on your heels. The easiness of his amusement bores through you, sees beyond your pretense of anger, and, even without looking, you know he pleased.

‘I already told you,’ he explains with a click of his tongue. ‘Knowing a biomedical engineer is impressive.’ Pausing briefly, he collects his thoughts for the timing and you cock an eyebrow, not bothering to face him. ‘And I’ll be damned if you’re the only one who gets to be impressive around here.’

‘I swear -’ you begin, turning abruptly to cast him a glare you know will be nothing like the withering heat you wish it would be, but you find yourself cut off.

Yoongi winks at you, almost friendly, silencing you with this sudden affable nature as he walks past, a grin tugging at his lips.

The drive up the lab is mostly quiet, though not altogether tense.

He’d offered to take his car, citing comfortable seats and better mileage, though even in the way he phrased it you could sense there was an ulterior motive. Nonetheless, you agreed, glad to not have to drive the two hours there and back again.

Now, sitting in the front passenger seat, you realize his sole purpose for this offer was the music. Phone pressed into the console, a playlist of his own creation floods the speakers, songs you’d never heard before across multiple genres that ease him into the seat as he drives. So, too, do CD’s litter the car, pressed into side compartments and holders latched onto both sun visors strain to contain the numbers he has forced into their pockets. Surrounded by music, he appears an entirely different creature, elegant, serene, and utterly peaceful, you find no trace of his usual incisive attitude.

The sudden inclusion into what would normally be considered a private space makes your palms feel clammy, uncertain how to rationalize the man you know with the details you find. Fast food wrappers are crumbled into a plastic, makeshift garbage back at your feet; a tiny, framed portrait of a kitten dangles from the rearview mirror rather than an air freshener; the seats of his car a deep, tan leather rather than the black you would have assumed he’d select. In his car, you find you know even less about him than you thought you did, all your assumptions and expectations molding together to place a slight throb at your temple.

Beside you, Yoongi seems unaware of your struggle. If anything, it appears he doesn’t even notice you at all, relaxed into his seat as his hands grip the wheel with a tenderness you’ve only seen reserved for an animal. The morning sun changes the shadows and colours that usually settle on his skin, carving a dignified symmetry into the line of his jaw. If he feels the touch of your eyes against his features, he does not let on, allowing you to scrutinize the proportions of his cheeks, his lips, his ears - his regal profile turning your mouth dry.

His eyes remain trained on the road with a stoicism you find blissful. Strands of his hair, pale blonde and taking on the myriad of shades contained within the sun, fall into his eyes, which he does not both to move. Messy, and soft, and entirely, woefully, human. In this comfortable silence, you admit that he is beautiful - beautiful, and flawed, and unashamed of the mess he makes, more alive than you have ever seen him.

Tearing your gaze away, you study the passing trees and cloudless morning, doing your best to remember when or why you decided he was someone cruel, someone who surrounds himself in negativity. With you, he has always been stern, detached at best, yet never deliberately mean, and your stomach drops at the realization he has done little more than wound your pride. For months, you’d been running circles around one another, your remarks simply a retaliation for his blithe announcement of assumptions you both knew were true.

From the start, he saw through the heart of you, and you wonder when you had ever chosen to let him in.

When he pulls up to the lab, adrenaline floods your body. Here, even in the parking lot, you can feel the looming presence of purpose, potential, power. You are unashamed of the excited way you scramble out of the car, stretching briefly before slinging your bag over your shoulder and taking hurried steps towards the door. You don’t make it far, ears catching quickly that it is only your steps, your feet pressing against the uneven gravel, and so you look back, concerned.

Yoongi stares at the building with childlike apprehension, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, suddenly appearing impossibly, endearingly small.

‘What’s wrong?’ The question is sincere, and you don’t bother hiding the concern in your voice.

Unmoved, he continues to regard the dark windows and limestone front, the awning detailing only a number in an effort to remain anonymous.

‘He agreed to see the scans,’ he announces, voice loud enough to carry but soft enough to give away his uncertainty. ‘There’s still a chance he might not help Casper. He just might not be able to’

As he finishes speaking, his eyes find yours, the care and the doubt you find catching you off guard. Looking at him now, you realize he likely hasn’t slept, bags puffing beneath his eyes, and his pout sheepish. Nothing in his gentle wording exists to pull apart your ideas, to put blocks, to make things difficult. In him, you sense the fear, the worry. Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you watch the way he clenches his jaw, lips thin as he chews the inside of his cheek. Suddenly overwhelmed by his unspoken affection, you allow yourself to soften for him, if only because you know he cares just as much as you.

‘But,’ you counter, ‘there’s a very real possibility he can. And that’s what we have to hold onto.’

Yoongi’s gaze hardens, resolute as he nods, lips forming into a small smile of gratitude.

It’s the most you’ve ever seen him give over into kindness, and the first time he has ever relied on you for anything beyond a chart or a schedule reference. Briskly, he walks past you, pulling open the door and holding it for you, expectant. Swallowing thickly, you hurry towards the entrance, mind fuzzy with too many incoherent and inconsistent emotions.

Dr. Kern comes to greet you only a few minutes after the receptionist notifies of him of your arrival, his handshake strong and welcoming. He leads you towards his office, a small space littered with papers, charts, models of bone structures, two oversized prints of the periodic table framed on his wall between his degree credentials.

‘Thank you so much for meeting with us at such short notice,’ you offer, taking a seat in front of his desk.

‘No problem,’ he says, congenially. ‘For me, this case is highly intriguing.’

Yoongi clears his throat, taking the seat beside you with careful movements. ‘I’m hoping I don’t sound...ungrateful, but may I ask why you agreed to help?’ he questions gently, hands running over the arms of the seat, over and over. ‘Do you work in veterinary science? I’m sorry if that comes across badly, I just have never met a biomedical engineer.’

Dr. Kern nods in understanding. ‘It’s alright. I imagine it’s surprising that I’d want to investigate an animal case.’ Reaching into his desk, he pulls out two files, sliding one to you and one to Yoongi. ‘When 3D printing first became reasonably affordable and partially available to the public, I saw limitless potential. I’ve spent a significant amount of time working in labs across the country throughout my career, and I can think of hundreds of cases where printing like this could have potentially saved lives.’

He pauses, giving you the opportunity to read through the file. Everything pertaining to his lab, the printing, the technology, the materials they use is included. Most importantly, right at the start, is a mission statement focused on ingenuity in the effort of maintaining quality of human life.

‘I started and funded this lab with my own money,’ he continues, leaning back in his tall leather chair and folding his hands. ‘It’s important, I think, to welcome a new era for medicine. Doing so means you welcome a new era for hope.’

Eyes still scanning the pages, you’re aware you’ve taken on a wistful, altogether too hopeful expression. In medicine, hope is necessary, but it cannot be your crutch, the elation of such a feeling allowing carelessness and ego sink in, creating delusions of grandeur. But here, now, you let it wash over you, unwilling to let it stop.

‘There’s something cosmically magical about that power, isn’t it?’ you muse, hoping to share in this enthusiasm with him. ‘To choose the paradigm you want to shift.’

From the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi look up from the file, eyes taking their time as they pierce you. Keeping still, you train your focus on Dr. Kern, fingers pressing deeply into the file in your lap, hopeful he does not notice. Even as your vision blurs, eyes losing hold of the world around you, you feel him. You are starting to think you will always feel him.

Dr. Kern laughs, the sound jovial and forcing you back to reality. ‘That’s exactly the kind of thing I like to hear. That kind of drive, it was all over your email.’ Sitting up, he moves his mouse to wake his computer, glancing at you over his thickly rimmed glasses. ‘Now, show me these scans.’

He uploads the files from the thumb drive with a furrowed brow, lips pursed as you sit back in your seat, doing your best not to jitter your legs. In your peripheral, Yoogi appears just as tense and still, gnawing at the inside of his cheek once again. The silence consumes you, the kind that presses roughly at your spine and makes you wish for sound, the tick of a clock, the drip of a fountain. Eager, you break the silence with information you imagine will be pertinent.

‘As you saw in my email,’ you announce, leaning forward in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the screen, ‘there have been several studies where prosthetics like this have been made, the most recent being in the UK. There is precedent...’ your words drift, fading away and mildly disheartened by the lack of change in his expression. ‘Sorry, I’m just excited.’

At this, Dr. Kern breaks, an humming in consideration though he does not take his eyes off the 3D scans, moving his mouse slightly as he rotates them. ‘It’s alright. I’d be concerned if you weren’t.’

‘I’ve taken stem cell samples, as well,’ you add, ‘so new bone could possibly fuse together around the implant.’

His eyes move to yours, brows raised in pleasant surprise. ‘That’s very forward thinking of you.’

Beside you, Yoongi coughs gently, interjecting as politely as he can. ‘I admit,’ he begins, evenly, using a voice you’ve never heard him use. It’s soft, demure, and almost hopeful. ‘I feel a little out of my depth. After we took these scans, our conversation swiftly went from orthopedics into neuroscience and regenerative medicine. Having this technology…’ He falls quiet, slightly mystified. ‘The ability to reinvent and redefine the borders between disciplines is both overwhelming and inspiring.’

You study him, chest suddenly tight at his heartfelt compliment. He offers it with ease, as though he’s used to handling sweet words in his mouth, a slight blush creeping up his neck and ears, aware that he has humbled himself and unashamed of doing so. How easily he strips himself of pride, admits there is more for him to learn. How easily he makes himself small in front of you. This was not something you were prepared for, his presence looming against yours as it seeks connection, a bond, heated enough for him to feel him all over you. Like this, he towers over you, lacing his emotions with yours, and you, unhinged, allow him all the way in if only for this shared moment.

‘I like you kids,’ Dr. Kern states plainly, his gaze moving between your awed expression and Yoongi’s soft flush of humility. ‘I knew I made the right choice offering to help.’ Leaning back in his chair, he lifts his hand from the mouse and waves you both forward. ‘Come take a look at this.’

Without hesitation, you and Yoongi leave your seats with care, your fists clenching and unclenching in an effort to suppress the trembling in your fingers. This, you think, is how it feels to stand on the precipice of innovation, teetering over the edge into the unknown, and while you don’t feel quite ready for the totality of it, you feel as though you are glimpsing images of a future you have claimed as rightfully yours. Yoongi steadies you slightly as he joins you in rounding the desk, his hand resting lightly against your shoulder, both of you unstable on your feet.

And when you see him, see the way his eyes are wild and alight, you suddenly feel as though you are looking into a mirror, confronted by the missing pieces of yourself that bring you balance. But, in an instant, the moment he latches his eyes to the computer screen and you, turning to see what he sees, feel the sentiment dissipate, both of you falling back into your usual routine, hungry for understanding.

‘The goal here is the marriage of biomechanics and biology.’ Dr. Kern moves the scans with careful precision. ‘The plans you sent to me for the surgery include cutting from here to here,’ he says, gesturing to the length from the cubital bone to the carpus. ‘What you’re leaving behind is this section.’ Dragging his mouse over the length of the radius, he hums in consideration. ‘Effectively, what you’re asking me to do is create a bridge where dead bone would be, hoping that there’d be enough space left for you to drill the piece in without bridging across the wrist. In a sense, we need a piece of scaffolding that leaves space, so the stem cells can recognize the rest of the bone as their own.’

It’s something you had talked about in your initial discussion, you and Yoogni and Dr. Hague glancing worriedly at one another, doing your best not to sound excited. Hearing it now, laid out by the engineer who must build it, you suddenly think something like this would be terribly difficult, to tall of an order in such a short amount of time.

‘Can you do it?’

Yoongi asks the question on your mind with an urgency you find endearing. His insistent tone brings you comfort, no longer feeling quite so alone in your worry.

Dr. Kern nods, unblinking as he regards the screen. ‘I believe I can. The scans you provided are detailed and thorough, and I should be able to design something that will get within a fraction of a hair’s length to fit in the leg.’ Still, though, he sighs, looking over his shoulder momentarily to offer you both a clouded expression. ‘The concerns I have, however, are severe. There is a risk of failure to incorporate, mechanical failure, infection, or implant breakage. The size of the gap you want to create is large, and this area of the leg is subject to high stress due to motion.’

‘But you’ll try?’ Yoongi presses, insisting he provide you both receive a real, concrete answer.

‘Like I said, I believe I can try.’ Dr. Kern turns in his chair to face you, a smile playing at his lips. ‘And I do want to try.’

Yoongi glances at you, exchanging a moment of relief and unbridled joy. All at once, you fear he becomes the sun, blinding and incandescent. Biting your lip, you look away, heat overtaking your chest as your heart begins to race.

‘Will you be using carbon?’ Your words are rushed, an abrupt distraction to change the subject and redirect the rush of blood you feel beneath your cheeks.

‘No, in living material it’s always safest to use titanium,’ he explains. ‘We can easily print with that here, though it will take some time to get the measurements and prototypes correct. You mentioned this dog is a cancer patient.’ At this, a darkened cloud seems to overtake the room, the word itself an omen as you all share a frown, the kind of thin lipped grimace you give to someone when you are preparing to share bad news. ‘I am not an oncologist, and so I don’t know how severe this cancer is.’

Nodding, Yoongi swallows thickly, building himself into the austere, authoritative presence you are familiar with. ‘The scans we took show the cancer hasn’t spread to the chest or lungs, though it is aggressive. The cells were taken from the hip, which was clean. I’m confident cells should be able to produce the normal matrix that would realign with the bone.’

Blinking, your lips part slightly, the confidence in his tone a thunder roll that moves over your skin. You’ve never heard him speak this way, not to you, not as a scientist. Eyes narrowed, he stands taller, a rod of iron in his spine that makes him appear not unlike a god.

‘Though,’ he continues, ‘we cannot be sure of the current spread along the lung. At best,’ he adds, gravely, ‘we have about seven weeks before we’d need to urgently consider alternatives.’

Dr. Kern nods, turning back to his computer and opening a rendering program. ‘I can get this done in about five or six, though I’d need to start today.’ Turning back to face you both, he offers you a kind, supportive smile. ‘But you’ve got me on board.’

Overwhelmed, you release a sigh of relief, one that makes you press the back of your hand to your mouth in embarrassment. Yoongi chuckles, extending his hand to Dr. Kern in thanks, and you watch as they share a moment that makes them appear more as colleagues than you have ever felt around either of them.

Rising to a stand, Dr. Kern places his hands on your shoulders, offering a reassuring squeeze. ‘You’re doing the right thing,’ he states. ‘We do these kinds of surgeries on people all the time. It’s only fair animals are given the same shot at quality of life.’

‘Thank you,’ you murmur, blood rushing with a sense of vindication and validation, the first real success you’ve had in months.

Yoongi drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the way back, far more talkative and making more noise than he had in the morning. Like you, he rides the high of this exhilaration with poorly contained energy, the full brilliance of his smile eclipsing the sun. Every now and then, he turns to look at you, to ensure you’re just as wired as he feels, irises wild and body hyperaware. For you, this new version of him is simply another layer, another shadow you must contend with, having witnessed so much of him in one day.

Looking at him now, you cannot help but return his enthusiasm, seemingly welcomed wholeheartedly into the radiance that exudes from beneath his skin. His smile, his true smile, you learn, is gummy, eyes squinting with delight as he softens the light from the afternoon sun. The commonality of this experience, of the way you processed and handled the weight of worry, and the power of victory, binds you both, something that is nurtured and born to exist within the boundaries of his car alone. This morning, it was a quiet heaven; now, he brings the noise, the tidal waves of change that come from work, understanding, and commitment - things that apply to Casper as much as they would apply to a lover.

Looking at him now, you cannot help but feel awed.

Running your palms over the fabric of your pants, you glance back towards the road, back to the trees and the distant lake that shimmers as you pass. Even as you watch the light drench the world around you, a thing you witness regularly, the sun so willing to kiss the land, you recognize this day is special, a moment that will eclipse all others until your next big first, wondering if it’s him or if it’s everything.

Licking your lips, you speak, unwilling to live inside your mind, alone, any longer.

‘You seemed a little lost in there,’ you chuckle, casting a brief glance in his direction, attempting to witness a change. ‘That’s not a challenge, by the way, just an observation.’

Yoongi shakes his head, a non committal motion he marries with a hum of acknowledgement, a bundle of movement and sound that feels excitable, like a puppy.

‘I don’t think you realize what that was - what this is for me,’ he says, emphatically. Considering his words for a moment, he pauses, looking between you and the road with an amazement you find euphoric.‘At grad school, my focus is soft tissue surgery, you know? Airways, oncology. Not bones, and certainly not reinventing parts. I meant what I said when I mentioned I’m out of my depth.’

It makes sense, you realize, how he so easily discussed stem cells and cancer with Dr. Kern; why he was so quizzical, so focused when you first observed the scans, willing to meet you and fight with you, because this is his field and, now, it is yours too. Yoongi looks at each animal he sees with a reverence that often leaves you breathless, always leaves you bewildered, shaken that this kind of love lives within his core. But, now, you understand - he loves because he witnesses loss, witnesses pain and grief, the intensity of which is braved only by those who have survived it.

‘I didn’t know your focus was oncology.’ You hope the words don’t sound surprised, as though you would have underestimated his dedication or his character. So, instead, you clear your throat and try again. ‘It’s a difficult field. There, you fail more often than you succeed, and that's hard.’

‘You thought I just wanted to be a vet tech,’ he says, changing the subject while sounding smug.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff. ‘I’m trying to level with you.’ Still, though, you can’t help but grin. ‘It’s true though,’ you admit. ‘I did.’

He laughs, a sound of real amusement, and your chest tightens, endeared. ‘Everyone always thinks that,’ he concedes. ‘Even my parents. I wasn’t the most attentive kid in school. I don’t really think people see me amounting to much.’

Enigmatic as he is, he surprises you once more with his blunt honesty, the way he lowers some of the walls he has built around himself, easing into the comfort that seems to have blossomed within the car. You're unsure why he would share such personal information, why he would bother to converse so freely at all, but you don't question it. Surprisingly, you welcome it, feeling yourself become endeared to him on instinct.

'Even when I first started at the clinic,' he continues, 'Dr. Hague seemed surprised. My credentials are solid - still waiting on my dissertation defense date - but I know I don't fit the profile. I don't look like someone who would choose this.'

Softening, you cock your head to the side. 'What's a veterinary surgeon supposed to look like, then?'

Turning to face you, startled by your question, his lips part slightly, a small puff of air moving between his pout. His focus moves between you and the road, his shoulders dropping in comfort and confidence, relaxed and eased by your words, though he chooses to remain silent.

And now, it is your turn to wink, the action making him laugh in surprise, the sound of full of honey.

‘So why oncology?’ you try again, hoping to steer him away from personal, somber waters. Mostly, a distraction to keep him talking, so the sound of his laugh does not seep into the pores of your skin, not unlike a waterfall. ‘It takes a lot of guts.’

He nods. ‘It does,’ he agrees. ‘Maybe that’s why I decided on it. It’s hard in every living thing. I figure why not give a voice to those who can’t speak for themselves? You know, Casper is here with cancer in his leg, but he’s still playing and eating and wagging his tail. He’s a good boy, a great dog. Someone has to fight for him.’

Nodding in agreement, you shift your attention to the road, memories stirring. Tongue eager, it feels important to share the thoughts his words have stirred, important to let him in. Truthfully, you've been letting him in all day, allowing the intensity of his stares, the warmth of his smiles, the kindness in his laugh to unmake parts of you, and, perhaps, you have been doing the same to him. The thought is motivating, the notion that his hand on your shoulder, his warm eyes and unwavering attention were born because you had worked your way inside him, too.

It feels motivation, and so you let yourself speak before you lose the will at all.

‘When I was eight,’ you begin, ‘my cat got run over by a car. She’d darted out from the garden when she saw a rabbit. I tried to stop her - she wasn’t even meant to be outside but I wanted to take her up to the treehouse.’

Even without seeing, you feel his expression morph, brow furrowing in concern as he listens. You have his attention, and he offers a small sound of encouragement, urging you to continue.

‘The car rounded the corner so quickly, I didn’t even hear it,' you sigh, falling back into the memory with a sadness that feels too palpable to be a distant wound. 'Her leg was badly wounded, but otherwise she was fine. Our vet, though, they fixed her up as best they could but there wasn’t a surgical practice around us, nowhere for them to refer us to that wasn’t miles out. My family couldn’t afford that trip and they kept convincing me it would be fine, but it wasn’t.’

'Shit,' he mutters, offering you a hurt, apologetic expression. 'I think I know where this is going.'

‘The nerves in her left foot died. She lost feeling quite quickly, and it wasn’t long until it became infected. We had to put her down because of that.’

When you finish, you find you are regarding your hands as they rest, uselessly, in your lap. Every time you think on this, this is where your eyes go - to your hands. The hands that held her, the hands that loved her, the hands that caressed her soft fur without giving shape to the life she deserved. You were useless then, altogether too young and unprepared, and the memory of these unfulfilled actions and touches live within your hands, where they speak and echo for no one but you to hear.

Yoongi remains silent, still comfortable in the trust though no longer free of pain. The atmosphere in the car has shifted, even as you look at the etched curves of your palms you can feel the change, one of companionship in this loneliness and this grief. As though a cloud of mourning has gathered within the small space, feeling him ache with you, feeling him hurt with you, is as though he has pushed through your memories, touched you, ensuring you are no longer solitary in this melancholy.

‘She was an otherwise healthy cat and,' you continue, voice thick and tongue heavy, 'at eight, it’s really traumatizing to lose a friend like that. She was my best friend. I decided then I wanted to be a vet, the kind that fixes broken limbs and makes new parts if I have to, so no one has to go through what I did.’

‘I’m sorry,' he finally says, his own throat tight with sincerity.

Lifting your head to watch him, you study the grimace that has pulled his lips downward. Instinctively, your hands ache to wipe it away, but you press them into your thighs, willing them to remain still.

‘That kind of loss,’ he explains, sympathetic and tender, ‘it stays with you.’

As he watches the road, a long and lost expression floods his irises, making him appear distant. Even as he quiets, you can sense there's so much more he intends to say, so much more he'd like to say, but the words elude him, seem to get caught somewhere between his heart, his tongue, unable to penetrate the heaviness of longing that has overtaken you both. So you don't pressure him, finding you are comfortable in this sort of unity, together and remembering, even if you are not touching.

Really, you think words no longer belong in spaces like this, would only tarnish the security you have only just found in one another, so new and so fragile. And so you remain silent, bonded with him, and comforted by him, knowing that things will change - the song will change or the subject will change, or, when you leave the car, the air outside will grant approval for things to return as you know them to be.

But, for now, this newness you have found with Yoongi feels natural and it is more beautiful than you could have ever intended.

It's five and a half weeks later when the part arrives at the clinic, the brown box, that would otherwise be so unobtrusive, lingering on the side of your desk as it generates a foreboding sense of apprehension in your belly. Dr. Hague agrees it's only right you open it with Yoongi, later in the afternoon when the start of his long shift commences, but the wait places a twitch in your fingers, skin itching with the desire to open it.

Such a small box, containing such a small item, the marriage of anatomy and biology, physiology and machinery. Weeks of work and weeks of conversation, running through your options and over and over, with Dr. Hague, with Yoongi, with Talia. So much is reliant on this small piece of titanium, you wonder if metal such as this, born of the cosmos and often in meteorites, could hold your expectations and not just the stars.

In these long weeks, Talia has worked overtime, pulling in extra money to pay the difference in cost her pet insurance will not cover. Casper, all good and warm and full of love, has been on medications to manage the pain, coming in weekly for scans to check the spread of his tumor. So far, not much has changed. So far, the spread remains contained to just the leg, but still you worry, deep down, what you will find when you finally see his bones with your own eyes and not just the empty, black and white images you're so used to examining.

This, all of this, is your risk, your drive to do what is morally correct and in the best interest for Casper. Weeks ago, you were confident you could save a leg, and a life. Now, with the box on your desk and the closeness of this imagined reality manifesting in the present, the weight of your choice is heavy in your lungs and chest. In this moment of being, it has never been so important to be right.

'What if we fuse the wrist?' you ask later, alone with Yoongi in Dr. Hague's office on the day of the surgery, his hands cradling the implant and your hands pressing against the desk in apprehension. 'What if there's no space to drill?'

Yoongi regards you quietly, brown eyes dark with compassion and understanding. You feel his gaze move over your face, feel the touch as though it were his own hands, and you lean into it, focus on it, aching for the comfort that comes from being held.

'Plenty of dogs have fused wrists,' he reassures evenly. There’s less than an hour, no time to turn back but time enough to think and rethink, to be consumed, and Yoongi, full of understanding, refuses to let you draw inward. 'You'd never know, even if you saw them up close.'

Meeting his eyes, then, you realize you have surrendered yourself into his care. In this moment, he holds you, his looking a sort of touching, his touching a deep, resonate sense of feeling, bound together in the moment of fear and unease, but, in him, there is no doubt. The same way you have surrendered yourself to his care, he has surrendered himself to you, trusting you implicitly, and knowing, in the end, you both would not move forward if it was not what was best.

You would not move forward if you were not united, together.

Dr. Hague invites both you and Yoongi into the OR, a first, he says, for a volunteer to be welcomed into surgery. But he smiles, rests his hand on your shoulder and reminds you you’re doing what’s right - there’s a lot of firsts happening today, and that counts for something. Talia squeezes your hands three times before you leave reception, Casper already placed under anesthetic and wheeled through the doors. Once again, the trust you find swimming in her eyes buoyes you.

‘There’s only so much you can do,’ she murmurs, as much for you as it is for her own nerves. ‘And I know you’ll do everything you can.’

The tremors in your hands, an uncharacteristic trembling that had taken root in your joints, dissipates upon entry. As if your body and your soul recognize this place is clean - free of distraction and free of second guessing. It’s sterile. It’s home. It’s safe. Shoulders pushed back, the rhythmic beeping of Casper’s heart monitor is your soundtrack; the bright, overhead light your moon. This is your universe, the precipice of a destiny you manifested on your own, created and dictated entirely by you.

And so, this room belongs to you.

After the first incision, as if by magic, your mind clears. You know the journey, the beginning and the end, you do not know what you will find, but you know the only option is to fix, to mend, to heal. The fog of other voices, other decisions is dispelled, every action and choice so much more simple than you would have imagined it could be. After the first incision, your focus narrows, the viciousness of your inner monologue dissolving into little more than numbers, measurements, and the sound of a drill.

‘Eight millimeters,’ you hear yourself say, even if it’s moot, even if Dr. Hague already knows, you still say it because it’s important. Few things, you think, have ever been as important as the length of this drill.

Yoongi watches, studies every movement with a furrowed brow, body still in a silence that makes you view him as an apparition. Under the white light, he glows, becomes something radiant, and you imagine him not unlike an angel. For so long he has watched over this process, watched over Casper, watched over you - learning and seeing and protecting. Yoongi watches and does not assist, not in any physical sense of the word, but he assists you, even if you are too proud to admit it.

Hours in, Dr. Hague hands you suction, tells you to manage a bleeder while he preserves blood vessels along the exposed marrow. Yoongi holds the frame of the wrist in place while you apply suction, the steadiness in his hand making it easier for you to quickly remove the overflow. He’s calm, the most composed you feel you might have ever seen him, there for you before you even ask him to be. Together, you anticipate one another’s movements, thoughts - you move around one another in a synchronization that feels natural, as though it was meant to be this simple.

With the bleeding stopped, you move the suction to the nurse behind you and catch his eye, see the way he watches you in admiration. There’s no time to really pause, to share a moment like this together, but you see it. See the way respect floods him, the way he moves his gaze back to Casper, a blush creeping beyond the perimeter of his surgical mask. It’s the most you’ve been involved in surgery since you finished your first residency. It’s the most you’ve felt like Yoongi’s equal since you met him. And both these things, the feeling of success and the feeling of wanting, you know, will never leave you again.

Dr. Hague educates both of you on the placement of the implant, the hardest part of the surgery. Something about this feels too easy - it feels like it goes too well. Casper’s vitals are stable, Yoongi’s eyes are wide, and your hands do not shake, but still you wait for the fall. You wait for the moment things change and go badly - even if it’s falling out of Hague’s favor, even if it means Yoongi never sees you this way again, you know it must be coming.

But it doesn’t.

At hour five, Casper is closed up, the implant successfully drilled. The stem cell samples you mixed with fribrin glue are sprayed into the mesh to rebuild new bone. Yoongi looks at you as though he is eclipsing the sun, and suddenly, your feet recognize the earth that holds you. Sound, thought, vision - they all come back, an onslaught that raises the hairs on your arms, overstimulated. The overhead light is turned off and Casper is wheeled to his recovery kennel, but you remain in the OR, standing still as your eyes adjust back to the fluorescent lighting.

It’s quiet now, almost too quiet, a calm falling over the room - a special kind of quiet that echoes with triumph, smells of sweat and anesthetic, and the fear of loss. This has never been done before. There is no guarantee it will work, no guarantee it could be done again. But it happened. It was real.

It was yours.

‘Are you okay?’

Yoongi’s voice breaks your thoughts. He’s close, closer than you normally let him be, but your gaze fixates on the way his mask dangles from his ear, playful, free, liberated. You’ve seen masks ripped away from faces in defeat, frustration, but he lets it linger, pressed against his skin as though he’s afraid of realizing it’s over or that it never happened. At such close proximity, you can smell him, his cologne mixing with the scent of iodine and blood, but you swoon, feel a little faint, and he steps closer, as though anticipating your drop.

‘I’m okay,’ you nod. ‘I just…’

‘You can’t believe it was real?’

A breath you did not know you had been holding, likely held deep within your lungs from the first moment you saw Casper’s scans, escapes your chest. You feel lighter, not necessarily relieved but aware you defied the odds, and so it is important to honor this moment.

‘Yeah,’ you agree, sounding breathless. It’s been a long time since you’ve been in an OR, even longer since you’ve felt like you were first for something, like you were chosen. ‘Is it always like that? For you?’

‘It’s always exhilarating,’ he says, considering his words carefully. ‘But no,’ he decides. ‘It’s not usually like that.’

‘Where do we go from here?’

At this, Yoongi laughs, reaching for your hand. Slowly, he pulls off your glove, the fingers stained a myriad of colours, and through the thin plastic you feel the tenderness in his touch. There is a greatness to the way he handles you, a familiarity to the way he pulls the plastic down and down further - pulling and shaping as though the hand was his, his hand yours; meeting together in the simplicity of this touch, aware that, from this moment, is it likely neither of you will ever have enough.

‘How about,’ he tries, delicately, gaze fixed on the slow reveal of your skin, ‘to a diner?’

It feels like the first time he smiled - the first time you smiled back and meant it. It feels like a first, is a first - the first time his hand holds yours, with purpose and intent. And so, you think you should get used to this.

‘That sounds great.’

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talesfromlissom · 4 years ago

Text

Glory Of The Moon [End]

Summary: As the recall has been issued, new recruits start to flood into overwatch due to recommendations, from old and new allies. However, the newest recruit seems to have an interest in Hanzo, much to Jesse’s dislike.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

A/N: This is the final part of the series, I might write more of this poly!mchanzo mainly because of the oc I have being in this relationship. And its cute :P

Hanzo reeled back in shock.

“W-what.”

“They’re dead, Shimada. Which means that Jesse, and you, belong to me, now.”

“I am not some object, Dallas.”

“Under my rule, you will be.” Dallas snarled. “So let’s make this easier, and please let me bite you already.”

“Never.”

“Fine then.”

With that, Dallas, yet again attempted to pounce on the man.

Hanzo ducked as Dallas crashed onto the forest floor.

“Even if you run, Hanzo! I’ll catch up to you! I’m a werewolf! I have four legs!” Dallas bellowed as Hanzo took off.

Why was he even running?

Fear.

No, Hanzo wasn’t afraid.

Was he?

He couldn’t be.

He didn’t have his bow, that would’ve been useful.

His dragons could only be used with his bow or when he called upon them, or if they thought he was in danger.

So why weren’t they here?

Hanzo shook his head.

Focus, Hanzo, focus.

He turned back to see Dallas, steadily gaining on him.

Hanzo kept his eyes off of the ground ahead for too long, with a cry he toppled and fell into a hole.

The hole seemed to be like a lake, except it was all dried up.

The bottom was just dirt.

Hanzo groaned and shook his head.

Dallas hopped into the hole as well.

He grinned, if werewolves could grin in this form that is.

“Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, little dragon.” Dallas jeered. “You’re mine!”

Hanzo scrambled away, and went towards the wall of the hole, and began to climb.

However, Dallas’ paw swiped him away.

He landed with a thud onto the dirt again, attempting to get up.

A paw slammed into his back, and he could feel Dallas’ claws digging into his shoulders.

“Now then...should I bite you, or claw you?” Dallas asked, as Hanzo saw him lower his muzzle just enough to see the slobber drip from Dallas’ mouth.

The rows of sharp teeth forced anxiety into Hanzo’s gut, this was not good.

Hanzo growled.

“Your choice, fledgling.”

Hanzo gulped.

“I…”

“Should I choose for you?” Dallas yelled.

“Get off of me!”

“I take that as a yes.” Dallas said. “The bite mark always has a more prominent smell anyways.”

Hanzo struggled underneath the werewolf’s grip.

He felt the drool drip onto his shoulder.

He felt the hot breath, tingle his neck.

And finally, the teeth just barely grazing his skin and then-

A howl.

(Y/N) appeared, and tackled Dallas to the ground.

The two alpha’s rolling in the ground yet again.

Hanzo gripped his shoulder, watching the two scuffle.

Biting, growling and nipping.

The two were so weak, they couldn’t even muster enough strength to hit any real blows.

Hanzo felt warm-

Wait, warm?

Hanzo turned to the sky.

The sun was rising.

He watched as the shadows in the hole began to disappear and turn to light, and the minute the sunlight hit the two alphas.

They paused, and then let out growls, still trying to wrestle each other, despite the cracking and their organs practically rearranging themselves.

And finally, as the two panted, and fell onto the dirt, in too much pain to continue.

Hanzo was before two very naked humans.

(Y/N) looked up at Hanzo.

(Y/N) then spun around and came face to face with a very angry, very human, and very naked Dallas.

(Y/N) growled and pounced on Dallas.

The two people are now fighting yet again.

“Um..could…” Hanzo sighed.

“Hanzo!”

Hanzo paused, turning to the ground above him.

“Jesse!” He cried. “Down here!”

Soon, Jesse’s face popped up, this time, Hanzo could see that he was fully clothed, which meant one thing.

“Hey! So, I found the team and-”

Jesse paused, turning to (Y/N) and Dallas.

“Hey! Only I’m allowed to naked wrestle (Y/N)!”

With that, Jesse jumped down and grabbed Dallas, forcing him to the ground.

“Hey, Hanzo, can you be a peach and give my serape to (Y/N) over here?”

Hanzo nodded, running over and grabbing the fabric, before wrapping it around (Y/N).

“Oh, you’re in big trouble now, Dallas. You’re naked and your gonna be arrested for kidnapping and attempted murder.”

“Murder!” Dallas cried. “I never tried to kill him!”

“We know that,” Jesse grinned. “But nobody else will.”

Dallas growled, letting out a string of curses before falling to the ground.

──•~❉+❉~•──

As the three agents entered the drop ship, immediately Hanzo was embraced.

“I leave for three days!” Genji cried. “Three! And you get kidnapped and almost turned into a werewolf!”

Hanzo blinked.

“I’m fine on my own, Genji.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.”

“No-”

“Ey, take your sibling squabbles elsewhere, I’m tryna sleep here.” Jesse muttered. “And (Y/N)’s about to hit the hay too.”

Hanzo turned to (Y/N) who was leaning against Jesse, his eyes drooping.

Hanzo shook his head.

“I suppose we could all use some sleep.”

“Hell yeah, mass spooning.” (Y/N) chuckled, before dozing off.

Jesse shook his head, as the ship moved.

“hey..uh..Hanzo...you..weren’t...bitten or scratched...right?”

“no...I was not.”

“Ah, that’s a relief.”

“Indeed.” Hanzo replied, leaning on Jesse’s over shoulder as tiredness began to overwhelm him.

──•~❉+❉~•──

As for the next full moon, things went smoothly.

The two werewolves, Jesse and (Y/N) went into their separate entrapment, and the night went well.

They were all set to go the next morning.

With high hopes, they were happy because Winston gave them some much needed time off.

Which usually meant watching bad movies and eating junk food until they puked, and with Hanzo scolding them later about it.

However, (Y/N) and Jesse entered the shared dorm between the three agents, and only found it in complete shambles and a giant disaster.

And in the middle of the mess, as Hanzo, breathing heavily, sweating, and wrapped in his blue fleece blanket.

He looked up at the two.

“So...erm...about me...not being bitten…?”

#werewolf hanzo #werewolf mcree #werewolf reader #mchanzo x reader #glory of the moon series #aaaaa #my writing #the end gamers

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bluesakura007 · 4 years ago

Text

A Case of an Ailment - TF2 Medic x OC

Summary: When the Hacker is suffering from hellish cramps and pains, Medic is brought to help - however, what they first need to get around in order to treat her is her phobia of needles.

Warnings: Only the use of syringes for medical purposes, but apart from that it’s just pure fluff. 💕

The Hacker was laid out on the top of her bed, slightly curled up. Valeria Weatherford never expected this pain she was experiencing to take place - it was nothing more than an unforeseen event as a result - although she had to admit to herself that she should’ve at least had an idea this would happen. After all, earlier that very same day she’d experienced a tiny twinge of a significantly more dull version of this current sensation, during which it had shown itself on her facial expression and consequently Sniper had enquired as to whether she was alright. ‘You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten something, mate’, was the advice that this Australian had given her, and it had worked, until now, that is. But she’d decided to not go to the man who was responsible for her medical care, as well as that of the other mercs; the reason for this was because she reached the conclusion that everyone had, for lack of a better term, a bit of a funny tum-tum every now and then, so therefore she should stop being a baby and just wait for it to pass. And yet here she was, at roughly about 9:40 PM, writhing around on her bed thanks to the dull, ‘weird’ pain from several hours earlier having escalated to a very sharp and throbbing one which had fully spread throughout her abdomen by now. The time in between the two had only been a temporary reprieve. To put it simply, what she was experiencing right now was pure and utter hell. “What do you want us to do?” Another of the mercs and the only other female one, the Secretary, asked in concern as she and Scout watched their teammate and friend groan weakly every ten seconds while she slithered in place. They’d been walking down the corridor outside Hacker’s room an estimate of a couple of minutes ago when they’d heard her groaning and came in to see what was the matter. “Do you want us to get you anything to help?” “Yeah.” Valeria managed to answer in between a mixture of her cringing and her trying to slow down her breaths as an unsuccessful attempt at dumbing down the pain; her dark brown-red shoulder length hair had become slightly more messy in the last few minutes, and she felt like her temperature was marginally raised right now, making the situation even worse. And then, choosing to go ahead with the plan of action that she’d decided to not use earlier, she added, “Two things: get Medic, and get him quickly!” “Should one of us stay with you here in the meantime?” “No, I’ll be alright alone for a minute or two.” She gave another answer to Francoise. With that, Scout informed her that they’d be back in a minute, and then the pair were off like a shot, making their way out of the room and down the corridor towards the Medic’s infirmary as quickly as possible. Finding no better alternative at this moment in time, Hacker clasped both of her hands over her stomach and tried to gently give it a self massage, and as expected, this was only about 4% effective. “Is zere anysing else I should know?” “She was sayin’ she felt hot, and I think she looked like she was having’ these cramps earlier, a few hours ago.” Replied Scout, him and Secretary now walking in lockstep back towards Hacker’s room on either side of their fellow merc whose presence she’d requested. “I see. Vell zen, it’s good zat you two came to tell me, or else her recovery vould be much more of a slow process.” Jeremy and Francoise would be outright lying if they claimed that Medic’s seriousness didn’t surprise them - usually, when it came to other patients, he would appear excited at the prospect of putting his medical tools to use and his outward behaviour would be described as giddy, but somehow, the incident he was faced with at this moment was making his behaviour instead appear to be that of calmness. It was a rarity that they’d been unfamiliar with until Valeria joined the team. Within another few seconds, meanwhile, Hacker herself finally managed to find at least some relief when the door to her room opened from the outside, and in stepped the doctor. Help had arrived. She rolled over onto her right, having previously been facing the wall next to her bed on her left, in order to look in the direction of the door a few feet in front of her with her head still laid down on the mattress. “Evening, Josef.” She and some of the other mercs sometimes liked to address him by his real name. “Good evening, Frau Hacker.” He returned the greeting at the same time as walking up next to her and temporarily kneeling down so that he could get the tools he needed, which he’d brought with him, together; he put them out of his hands and onto the floor, gathering them together appropriately whilst Secretary closed the door again behind them. “Scout told me zat you vere having zis same problem earlier, but to a much smaller degree. Vhy didn’t you come to see me vhen it happened?” He turned his head to look at her. “It was only by a tiny smidgen at that point in time... so I thought I could just ride it out. I thought that I shouldn’t... need to rely on medication for every little problem like that. It was gone again for a while.” She needed to pause for a couple of moments so as to allow her intervals of cringing. “Ja, but as ve can all see, it made a rather nasty return, so zis just goes to show zat when you’re unwell, you need to come to me, even if it is just ‘by a tiny smidgen’.” Medic said to her in a fractionally scolding manner. “If left untreated, zat smidgen could lead to somezhing bigger, like zis.” “Sorry...” “It’s alright, just always remember to come and see me vhen zhese zings happen, ja?” By now he’d assembled the main component of the method he was going to use for treating her: a thin metal pole. “Okay.” She nodded her head, using her free hand that wasn’t clasped over her abdomen to sweep some stray strands of her hair out of her face, at the same time as wondering to herself what it was that he was planning on doing. Muttering to himself about nothing in particular, the Medic then reached inside one of his coat’s pockets and removed his pair of red gloves, proceeding to pull them onto his hands and feeling pleasurable chills run down his spine when their loud snapping noise was heard a couple of seconds later; Francoise and Jeremy were also wondering what his plan of action was by this point, as the only medical tool they were able to see him carrying a few seconds ago was the parts of the pole, and they were additionally thinking, ‘What type of treatment for this sort of problem needs his gloves to be used?’ The rest was obviously inside the white briefcase he’d been holding that was now on the floor. Their mental queries were soon answered, though, when he opened up the briefcase, and all three of the others could see that inside it was a long, thin plastic wire, a bag currently containing a clear fluid, and an item strongly resembling a small syringe. “This was a bad idea.” They weren’t looking at her, so they couldn’t see her do so, but the other 3 heard Valeria make this comment to herself next to them, and she seemed to have regained some motivation to move, because they did turn their heads to see what was happening when she abruptly pulled herself off of her bed, landing on the floor and creating a noise in the process. The floor was made of wood, and she instantly wished that she’d stayed, because it was cold - she could feel the coldness thanks to its surface making direct contact with her torso’s skin that wasn’t covered up by her crop top. As quickly as she could, she still felt like she couldn’t get up so she tried to pull herself along the floor on her way to where the door was, whilst moving still made the pain intensify and made her keep cringing. Eventually, however, she admitted defeat when she was about halfway across the room, feeling even more tired and groggy now than she did a minute ago, and she rolled onto her back and weakly stared up at the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. In this time, Josef had barely moved at all and neither had Scout or Secretary, because there’d been a very good reason for them to not be rushing to catch her. “You okay, Val?” Enquired Scout. “No...” She was then back in the same position on the floor: curled up with one hand on her stomach. “Why can’t you just give me a pill or something like that, Medic?” Josef, remembering that she had trypanophobia and that this was most likely the reason behind what had just happened, got up from where he’d been kneeling and approached her. “Because my IV treatment is a much quicker method; a pill vould take half an hour or a whole hour to put itself into effect, because it needs to travel through zhe digestive tract first and be broken down before zhe liver releases its remnants into zhe bloodstream, but as implied in its name, an intravenous drip takes a shortcut directly to zhe veins and zhe bloodstream vizhout needing to go through zhe process of being broken down.” He stood over her as he said this making himself look like a mostly dark silhouette from her perspective courtesy of the ceiling’s lightbulb, but after he’d finished speaking, he knelt down towards her so that their faces were now only about a foot away from each other. “I chose zis option because I thought you’d vant a more immediate solution.” “I do, I do, it’s just I wish that quicker solution didn’t have to involve things prodding through my skin.” She shook her head and shuddered at the thought of it. Making sure to do it carefully, Medic reached his arms out and used them to pick Valeria up off the floor, during which she groaned again almost silently to herself, and he hoisted her up into a position where her head was over his shoulder and her legs were dangling loosely in front of his chest. “I know, Hacker. I have no intention on forcing you into anysing zat you don’t vant to do, but I’m afraid it’s either zis or sit through zhe pain for anozher hour.” He responded to her in a tone that was dominated by understanding and a gentleness that Scout and Secretary both found to be another occurrence they’d never seen from him before, prompting them to be surprised once again while Josef knelt down again, this time slightly but not fully, so that he could safely sling her off of his shoulder and back onto her bed after he’d walked back up to it. “I... alright then, I suppose I’ll do it...” Hacker chose to swallow her phobia and ride it out, this objective potentially being more successful this time. He nodded in acknowledgement. “Zhank you. A person’s phobia is a difficult thing for zhem to get around, so I think it’s good of you to try and do zhat.” He displayed a small, brief smile as a way to show that he was proud before he turned back around towards his briefcase on the floor. Jeremy and Francoise, during this, both sat down a few feet away in the computer chair and the regular chair in the vicinity of Valeria’s ‘gaming den’ in the corner of the room, watching Medic pull out the liquid-filled plastic bag from the briefcase in one hand and then the thin wire in the other. His patient herself observed what he was doing, her fear currently being one that made the feeling in her stomach feel somewhat more sickening, but it didn’t become more serious until she watched him use the same hand he was utilising for holding the wire also grasp hold of the syringe. Her eyes had grown wider and for a moment she could’ve sworn she could feel her breath catching in her throat, along with her heartbeat racing and with it ringing in her ears. She was completely fine around doctors in general, it was just when they pulled out these dreaded tools that shoved medicines directly into her blood when she experienced the previously described reaction. Oh my god, oh blimey... She watched him hang up the bag on the pole next to her bed and then attach one end of the wire to the bottom of the bag, allowing the fluid to flow through it and to the other end, which was currently closed. Now that this was done, he lifted up the needle to attach it to this other end of the wire, prompting Hacker to instinctively pull her legs in closer to herself because of it being nearer than it was a moment ago. “It’s alright, Val.” Secretary reassured her friend when she witnessed her do this. “Francoise is right, you know.” Added Medic in agreement, neither of these two sentences being completely heard as a result of her accelerated heart rate pounding through her ears. He attached the plunger end, which was open, onto the loose end of the wire, and now the fluid from the bag had pushed itself into the syringe as well. There was a chair next to her bed, as well, so the German pulled this up underneath him and used it to sit on as he brought the needle closer to her bed. “Could you give me your arm please?” She decided that her right arm was closer to him, so she slowly, tentatively, reached this one out, with a small tear each materialising in both of her eyes. With his empty hand, the left one, he grabbed hold of her forearm - she experienced some chills there as well as down her back when she felt that his glove was rubbery and cold, but soothingly so after the split second in which its coldness took her by surprise - in a manner that was mostly gentle. “Hey, look who’s here!” Scout got everyone’s attention, except for Medic’s because of him wanting to focus on what he was doing, and the former seemed to be pointing to the corner of the room opposite him and Francoise; what appeared to be a white dove with some bloodstains populating its feathers poked its head out from behind a pile of books and computer manuals there, emitting a small cooing noise as it looked directly at the pair. “Archimedes!” Hacker, realising that he must’ve been following Medic down the corridor a minute ago and gotten into the room unnoticed before the door was shut again, exclaimed in surprise upon hearing the ‘coo’. Medic also reached his own realisation due to his loyal pet seemingly providing a distraction: it was now or never, and therefore he used his other hand, while she wasn’t looking, to jab the needle into the underside of her right forearm. This made her attention return in an instant as she gasped from the sharp sting there, looking at it with her eyes wide again. “You did it! It’s okay, zhe hard part’s over now.” He told her, the smile returning to his features. “Vell done, Valeria.” However, before she could respond, she noticed straight away that for some reason, she suddenly felt more drowsiness than she did before, her eyelids momentarily closing themselves by a few degrees - a change that had to be connected with the drip that the vein inside her arm had just been connected to. “What exactly... did... you put in that IV, Medic...?” “Zhe main fluid inside zhe bag is ibuprofen in liquid form, which I enhanced a vhile ago to be more effective and vith zhat being vhy it’s clear in colour, but a few minutes ago I also added a small handful of my anaesthetic supply into it as an extra ingredient, so zhat it could help you to sleep better, as well.” He gave his reply at the same time as wrapping a thin bandage he’d removed from one of his coat’s pockets around the area of her wrist where the needle was located, so as to make it more secure. “We saw ‘im putting some other liquid into the bag.” Added Scout in confirmation of his answer. “Well, I’ve got to hand it to you, I actually think I like it.” Another thing she noticed was that the pain in her stomach had begun to gradually wash away, piece by piece, after the IV needle had been inserted, and it was being replaced at the same speed with a pleasantly warm wave spreading throughout all of the veins in her body. She’d regained the motivation to move as a result, so she uncurled her body and moved into a position where she was laid out flat on top of her bed’s duvet. “You do look a little bit less pale.” Agreed Secretary, with Scout also nodding his head - whilst his methods, from what she’d seen, were what you’d call ‘unusual’ more often than not, one thing she’d learned was to never underestimate how well he could get the job done. “You’ll start to feel a little bit doolally in a few minutes.” Medic told the shorter-haired one of the females. Whilst he informed her of this, he remembered his left hand was still very near to her right forearm, and he decided to make an attempt at using a technique from the field of medicine that he’d heard of before: holding it next to where the drip was, and moving his thumb slowly and gently, as if he were using it to rub her arm. From what he’d read about this technique, it was a method for doctors to non-verbally let their patient know that they were still there. “Define ‘doolally’ in this case.” She said as a request for clarification. “The type of anaesthetic zhat I put in zhe intravenous bag is a moderate sedative, so you’ll feel as if you’re intoxicated and your speech vill be slurred, but it’s nozhing to be vorried about; zat’s normal for zis level of sedation.” Sure enough, it was about ten minutes or so later when Valeria, who’d now gotten under the duvet and was laid with most of her body underneath it and her head on the pillow, was smiling inanely to herself and gazing up at the ceiling. “How d’you feel?” Jeremy asked his friend, him and Secretary having moved their chairs closer to her bed a couple of minutes ago. Hacker turned her head to the right to look at him, as the pair were sat next to Medic, and her grin grew wider. “The liquid ibuprofen really worked, and that anaesthetic that’s in it’s making me feel good...~” She let out a small chuckle to no one in particular, right before a certain bloodstained dove flapped its way over to her bed through the air and landed to her left, on her pillow. “Hellew.” In response to this, Archimedes ‘coo’ed once again and tilted his head, making her laugh. “You were the perfect diversion earlier, weren’t you?” Secretary addressed the avian creature with her own smile, both at how cute the birb was and at how effective his presence had been in taking Hacker’s mind off of what took place a few minutes ago. “We should probably go now; it’s gettin’ late.” Said Scout, before looking back at Valeria and emitting a small chuckle. “And it looks like Val’s done for the night, too.” She appeared to currently be sound asleep, both of her arms still outside of the duvet while the rest of her body was underneath, with her mouth slightly open. “That must be the sedative.” Commented Francoise in the same manner. “I take it she’ll be okay in the morning?” “Ja, zhe enhanced ibuprofen inside her veins vill have been maintained long enough for its lasting effect to do its job. And she’ll be a little bit tired to start vith but zhe anaesthetic vill feel rejuvenating to her.” Josef replied. “Like coffee?” The female who was still awake also asked. “Precisely.” He nodded his head. “I’ll stay vith her just for anozher minute so zhat I can make sure she’s comfortable, and then I’ll come back here in zhe morning to help her remove zhe drip.” “See you, Doc.” Scout bade him goodnight as he got up from where he was sitting and then, after he’d looked back at his sleeping friend one last time, he and Secretary walked out of the room, closing the door behind them. “So, when are we gonna tell her?” As soon as the door was shut, she addressed Francoise. “Let’s not just yet; let’s see how long it takes her to work it out herself.” She smiled in mostly suppressed laughter. “Although mind you, Medic will probably be a pensioner by the time he gets round to admitting it himself.” “Yeah.” Jeremy joined in with this same type of laughter. “It’s kinda amazing how Val hasn’t noticed something this obvious yet.” As they began to walk away, en route back to their own rooms, he glanced over his shoulder at the door’s window, where he could still see Medic sat next to Hacker’s bed and making sure that the IV wire was straight so that there was absolutely no chance of it getting tangled in the night, doing all this while smiling serenely. “Mornin’ all.” Sniper addressed his fellow mercs about ten hours later as he walked downstairs into the briefing room, rubbing one of his eyes. “Hi Snipes.” Returned Scout, letting out a yawn at the same time as momentarily stretching his arms out behind him. “Did any of you hear the rumour that’s floating around?” Spy, in the middle of lighting one of his cigarettes and placing it into his mouth, asked in his usual clipped voice. As always, the purr of his French accent sent a shiver down Secretary’s neck and the middle of her back. “What rumour’s that?” Queried Engineer. He’d been sat on one side of the room for the last few minutes, in a chair with one leg over the other while playing a couple of quiet notes on his guitar. “From what I’ve heard, apparently last night Medic spent the entire night sleeping in Hacker’s room, right next to her bed.” Replied the masked figure with a tiny chuckle lacing the smile that had just appeared. “What.” Francoise, in curiosity, instantly snapped her head into the direction of the male who’d just spoken. “Demoman claimed a few minutes ago that when he was walking down one of the upstairs corridors late at night, he happened to catch a glimpse through the door’s window of both of them asleep, with him having his head on the top of her bed and with the rest of his body slumped over a chair.” “It’s true, I swear I saw it!” The Scotsman himself confirmed from his own chair a few feet away, and as expected, he was holding a still full cider bottle that he was hoping to open in the next few seconds. “And I also saw the lassie having something attached to her arm, I think it was connected to a bag filled up with some kind o’ liquid.” “One of Doctor’s experimental treatments, maybe...?” Heavy thought out loud. “It could be something new he’s been working on, yes.” Nodded Spy in agreement. “Val told me yesterday evenin’ that she had bellyache, and she looked dreadful as well, so Medic must’ve been tryin’ to help her with that.” Said Sniper. Scout, sat adjacent to the brunette, turned his head and gave her a knowing look about the rumour they’d just been told about, simultaneously trying and partly failing to suppress his own chuckles. “‘I’ll only stay with her for another minute’ he said, ‘I’ll come back in the morning’ he said! Can we go upstairs and tell her now? Pleeease? I bet even the other guys here think it’s obvious, too!” “Not yet, not yet! Sssssshhhh!” Secretary placed a finger over her lips and quietly laughed to herself. Josef, having only awoken roughly thirty seconds ago, was spending some of his time wiping the sand from the corners of his eyes and readjusting his glasses, which had gone slightly askew in the night. After he was done, he took a moment to allow his pupils to adjust to the darkness in the room except for gentle sunlight streaming in through the window on the door and through the white curtains in front of the window placed to the right of the bed, and he put himself back up into a proper seated position in his chair. His red rubber gloves were still covering his hands, his lab coat was still being worn by the rest of his body and, in addition, it seemed that Archimedes, too, was peacefully sleeping at the bottom of the bed. It was a little bit after this same moment when Medic could faintly see Valeria make some tiny movements as she began to stir, starting with her head as she still felt as if her eyelids were heavy and she yawned to herself before, slowly and piece by piece, she managed to roll over onto her right side. It was still mostly dark, but she could partially see the intravenous syringe still attached to her right arm; for a split second she felt a surge of panic, before she remembered the events of the previous night and that she didn’t have to go through the process of it being plunged through her skin again. Her eyes, still resisting the strong urge to drop back off into the land of sleep, flicked upwards when another thing she remembered was that there’d been someone else with her during these events. Medic, delicately placing one of his gloved hands onto her right forearm and making that chill residing in her spine make a reappearance, smiled in the same manner while the light through the curtains touched the left hand side of his glasses’ frames. “Guten morgen, Frau Hacker.” Archimedes emitted a little ‘coo’ as he woke up as well and tilted his head by a few degrees.

#tf2 #medic #tf2 medic #team fortress 2 #tf2 x oc #team fortress 2 x oc #medic x oc #tf2 medic x oc #fluff #comfort

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loveistherootofhappiness · 5 years ago

Text

Throwing out something a little positive before the season finale breaks our hearts...

Fandom: 9-1-1 Pairing: Michael/OC (aka “Dr. McHottie”) w/ a little Bathena Rating: T Word Count: 2981

Summary: None of that included coming face to face with the guy that’s been wondering in and out of his thoughts for the last few days.

Can also be read here -----

Dr. Derek Hale walked slowly as he exited the elevator. Each step was paired with a sip of the black, way too strong, coffee that he’d gotten from the lobby. The acrid taste was awful, but was doing a manageable job of keeping him awake right now. He hated when he wasn’t prepared for a shift, felt he was not only doing a disservice to himself, but the patients as well not being a hundred percent. Though, he didn’t feel right calling out or asking a colleague to work in his place, it was his own fault he was so tired. Well, the fault of a certain guy he’d met in an elevator who’d been heavily on his mind for the last three days, but that was beside the point.

As he approached the nurse’s station, he shook all thoughts of “Elevator Guy” from his mind, knowing they’d stray to point of distraction if he continued this line of thinking. Putting his things down and brushing off all comments about how tired he looked, he poured through the charts and notes on the patients he was responsible for on the trauma ward. He steeled his focus and was able to get caught up on everything in about 30 minutes and prepared to start making his rounds. He grabbed his tablet, stethoscope, pocketed an otoscope, and walked towards the first room on his list to check in on the patient.

Athena wasn’t sleeping but resting comfortably, well, as comfortably as she could. The warm body snuggled against her was doing wanders for her. She was spooned against Bobby, face in his neck inhaling the scent she’d been missing for the last three days. Bobby had his hands wrapped around her careful to avoid any of her injuries. Parts of her body still ached, but this having him next her again, it was making it so much better. It took a bit of convincing to do this, but not as much as she thought it would.

“I know both of you know better,” Derek said in amusement as he opened the door to the room.

Athena groaned inwardly pulling herself out of the moment she was in. “Is it shift change time already?” Athena asked innocently, “I thought we had a little more time.”

“It’s okay, I guess I’ll let it slide,” Derek paused as he looked between Bobby and Athena, “this time.” Dereks voice still held it’s amused tone. This was was far from the first time that he found patients in bed with loved ones. He’d worked in trauma long enough to know how much physical contact could help in the healing process mental and emotionally, as well as physically. “I’m glad you have a support system with you.”

“So am I.” Athena placed her hand over Bobby’s near by one, rubbing her thumb along the the back.

Derek smiled as used his foot to lift the bed so he can examine her better. “I’m Dr. Derek Hale, by the way.”

“Athena Nash.”

Following the introductions, he went through the motions of examining of her. He took note of her vitals making sure everything was within normal ranges. “Scale of 1 to 10, how bad’s the pain today?”

“About a 4,” she answered honestly. He looked at her, seeing if there were any sign of lying, she appeared to be telling the truth.

“The pain meds been treating you okay?”

“Other than making me a little sleepy, I feel fine.”

He hummed in acknowledgment as he took note of her answer. He pulled out the otoscope, looking at her eyes, checking their reaction to light, “no headaches, blurred vision, nausea, trouble breathing?”

“There is a dull ache in my head, but the meds help with that. No blurred vision, nausea, nothing like that. My chest hurts a bit when I inhale, but it’s nothing I can’t handle” He turned off the scope and put it back in his pocket, taking note that everything was normal.

He took note of her facial wounds, which appeared to be healing normally, no signs of infection. Nothing that time wouldn’t be able to take care of.

“You seem to be doing very well Athena. No adverse reactions to treatment. Healing nicely.”

“Great. When can I go home?” She asked eagerly.

“Athena.” Her partner said pointedly, which she responded to by shooting him a look.

Derek chuckled, “it’s fine. It’s a fair question,” he sat at the end of Athena’s bed, “honestly speaking, I see no reason why we can’t have you out of here by the end of the day.”

“Oh thank god,” Athena breathed a sigh of relief while her partner still looked wary.

“You’re healing is going to take time, but, at this point, it nothing that can’t be done at home. I think we’ve bandaged you up as much as we can. I see no reason why we can’t have you out of here by the end of the day,” he rose to his feet, “so you guys can cuddle up together in your own bed. As long as it’s just cuddling, no strenuous activities right now and you still need to get plenty of rest.”

“Of course, I understand.”

“Do you have any other questions for me?” She shook her head. “Well, I’m going to go update your chart and get the discharge process started. It was good meeting you, Athena.”

He reached over and held out his hand towards her partner. “Bobby,” he told him. Derek faltered a bit, having remembered hearing the name, but recovered quickly before it was, hopefully, noticed. Bobby didn’t give him any indicate that he noticed when he let go of his hand.

“Alright, I’ll be back to check on you later.” He said to Athena before turning to leave. As he did, the door opened, putting him face to face with none other than “Elevator Guy” holding a bouquet of flowers and a bag of food.

When Michael woke up this morning his plans included: making sure his kids were okay, calling his mom, going to visit Athena, and bringing her and Bobby some lunch from Athena’s favorite place. None of that included coming face to face with the guy that’s been wondering in and out of his thoughts for the last few days. Though, he couldn’t say he was mad at the strange turn of events.

Michael knew he was staring way past the point of what was considered appropriate, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew the man looked good, but the low lighting of the elevator didn’t do him nearly enough justice. In the fluorescent lighting of the hospital room he could clearly see his piercing dark brown eyes, smooth deep brown skin, and powerful jawline. The man was beautiful. As he watched “Hot Doctor’s” features shift from surprise to almost smiling, he could see the recognition. It was comforting to know that he hadn’t forgotten him.

It took a nurse clearing her throat from behind him for him to realize how caught up they had gotten in the moment. “Oh, sorry,” Michael chuckled nervously and stepped out of the nurse’s way for her to enter the room.

The doctor took the opportunity to make his leave as well. “I need to continue making my rounds,” he said quickly before exiting the room just as quickly. Michael was so flustered he wasn’t able to get another word in before he left.

Michael was mentally kicking himself as he stood out of the way, while the nurse tended to Athena’s IVs. He still hadn’t gotten his name. He just stood there staring like an idiot. It was just as well, he had every opportunity to do so when he was trapped with him three nights ago for well over an hour. He sighed, damn if he didn’t know how to waste an opportunity. He didn’t miss the look the look that the nurse shot him as she walked out of the room after finishing. The universe’s way of telling him it agreed with him.

When the door clicked closed, he was left with Bobby and Athena’s amused looks. He made his way over to them, placing the flowers and food on the bedside table. “So, how are you feeling today?” He asked Athena as he distracted himself with taking the food out of the bag. He was met with silent, eyebrow raises as he handed each container to both of them and pulled the rolling table in front of Athena, “I’m not getting away with that, am I?”

“Not a chance,” Bobby said, taking the top of of his and Athena’s containers.

“Micheal, what was that? Do you know him?”

“Yes- well, no- umm, kinda, I guess,” he stumbled over his words, trying to find the right words to say, “I met him in an elevator,” he settled on.

“You met him in an elevator?” Athena asked slowly.

“The night of your- what happened, after my MRI, I was leaving the hospital, and found myself stuck in elevator with him. We were trapped for about an hour or so before we were finally rescued. When we were I had every intention of asking for his name and, possibly, his phone number when I got the call from Bobby about what happened. All of that flew out the window. After the dust settled and I knew you were okay, I had time to think about it. I kinda just chalked it up as a missed opportunity. Didn’t think I would see him again.”

“Wait, so you were trapped with him, for over an hour, and you didn’t get his name?” Bobby asked.

“Don’t remind me. I guess we just got to talking and it didn’t come up.” Michael fondly remembered how the conversation between them just flowed, it’d been a while since he’d felt that spark with someone.

“So what ya gonna do about it?” Athena asked casually, as she ate one of her fries.

“What do you mean?” Michael asked, feigning ignorance.

“I’m gonna ignore that because you know exactly what I mean.” Athena eyed him carefully, “it’s not like you to waste an opportunity.”

She was right, it wasn’t, but this was different, felt different. It had been a while,since he’d felt this level of attraction to someone, since he’d purposefully put himself out there. If the connection was anything to go off of, he could chance saying that “Hot Doctor” was attracted to him too. Maybe, at some level. This was all still so new to him, he didn’t want to be wrong or risk misreading what he believed could be signals. “You’re right, I just don’t wanna be wrong. I wanna be sure I’m not wrong here and he likes me too.”

“He likes you,” Athena and Bobby told him simultaneously.

“This entire hospital felt the chemistry between you two just now.” Athena joked.

“Ha ha,” Michael snarked, “can we drop this and focus on you?” Michael asked, more than ready to stop talking about this.

Athena eyed him, “fine, as long as you remember that you deserve to be happy.” He laid a hand on her shoulder and placed a kiss on her forehead in response.

“Now, how are you feeling?” With that question he, Bobby, and Athena feel into a comfortable conversation that wasn’t about him anymore.

Before he knew it, a couple of hours had gone by. May was texting him, asking him if it was okay if he and Harry went to the hospital. He let her know that her mom was being released from the hospital today and they should see her by tonight. Bobby had left to go home to shower, change, and bring some comfy clothes for Athena to go home in. He told him he’d stay with her until he came back.

Glancing over at Athena to find her still sleeping, Michael decided to use the opportunity to get some himself something to drink and some air. Rising from his seat, he left, closing the door softly behind him. He looked left and right in the hallway, seeing if he’d spot him waking the halls. No such luck. He walked towards the elevators and luckily didn’t have to wait long before they opened. He walked in and headed straight for the back wall, placing one hand on the bridge of his nose squeezing his eyes shut tightly and the other on the rail behind him.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” The smooth, deep voice startled him a bit. Michael opened his eyes to find himself face to face with “Hot Doctor” as the elevator doors closed.

Michael sighed and slowly met his eyes before saying, “we do.”

He stepped closer to him and Michael put his other hand on the rail he was leaning against, trying desperately to hide his nervousness. He was probably failing, “you know, I’ve been kicking myself for a couple of days now.” He said to him.

“Oh, why?” Michael licked his lips and gripped the rail a little tighter.

“Well, you see, I met this guy, had this connection with him, well, at least, I thought so.”

“So, what happened?”

“Wouldn’t you know it, I didn’t get his name, and I didn’t even give him mine.”

Michael tried hard to hide his smile, “well, if the connection was there, you know, like you said it was, he just might be kicking himself for the same reasons. Maybe even wanting to apologize for running off without warning before you could get it.” Michael put his hands up, “that’s just me assuming that happened.”

He chuckled lowly, “well wouldn’t you know, that’s exactly what happened. I don’t blame him for it though, it happens. Seems like whatever it was seemed super important.”

“It was, otherwise it wouldn’t have happened. Hypothetically speaking of course. You don’t seem like the type of guy someone would just leave hanging like that, you know, unless absolutely necessary.”

“Do I now?” He asked cheekily.

“Yeah, you do.” What was it about this guy that made all of this so easy for him?

“It’s just as well, he probably has someone special at home.”

“No, I don’t think he does.” His smile widened, brightening his entire face.

He held out his hand, “Derek Hale.”

Taking his hand in his, “Michael Grant.” There it was again, that spark. That small shockwave that reverberated throughout his body. Whatever this was, was strong, and Michael liked it.

“It nice to meet you, Michael Grant.”

“You as well, Derek Hale.” Dropping his hand and the facade, he asked, “So, what gave you the impression that I had someone special?”

“I don’t know, guys like you always do. Plus, I saw the look on your face when you answered Bobby’s call, before the bad news part, and-”

“Woah, woah, wait. You thought Bobby was,” Michael couldn’t help but laugh at the thought.

“Love how you find that so funny,” Derek said as he looked away shyly.

“No, no, no, sorry about that,” he recovered, wiping his eyes, “it’s just funny because Bobby is my ex-wife’s husband. The woman I was visiting, the mother of my kids, your patient, the guy that was in there with her.”

He watched Derek eyes widen in recognition, “so that was... oh! I thought Bobby was- so he isn’t your- woo, that’s a relief. And he I was thinking that the guy I couldn’t stop thinking about was in a relationship.”

“The guy you couldn’t stop thinking about?” Michael asked slowly, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Fuck, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

Before Michael could say anything further., the elevator started to move. Both looked at the other, knowing neither of them had pressed any buttons, and started to laugh. They both decided to shelve the conversation and fell into a comfortable silence as the elevator reached it destination: the first floor lobby.

When the elevator came to a halt, and the door opened, Michael and Derek exited quickly, allowing the other people waiting to get on. As they walked through the lobby, Derek bumped his shoulder and nodded his head to the left, “come with me.”

Michael, unquestioningly, followed him and was lead to a door that only read, “Private”. He watched as Derek pulled his badge from his pocket and swiped it against the adjacent pad. He opened the door into a nice looking lounge area.

Michael whistled, “this is nice.” He looked around, “am I even supposed to be in here?”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” he winked before getting himself something out of the fridge. He threw one to Michael as well.

“Why’d you bring me here?”

“I knew no one else would be in here around this time and it was the most private place I could think of to continue our conversation.”

“So our conversation requires privacy, huh?”

“Well, didn’t really want to the risk having an audience when I asked you out.” Clear. Direct. Straight to the point.

“Wow, you waste no time.” Michael could feel the pull in the muscles in his cheeks from smiling so much.

“I’ve wasted three days, I think that’s more than enough time.”

“So, you’re saying that you would have asked me out that night, if we weren’t interrupted.”

“Absolutely.” Michael couldn’t help but appreciate the conviction in Derek’s tone.

“Well, Derek, I’d love to go out with you.” Michael fished his phone out of his back pocket, handing it to Derek. Derek, catching on, put his number in the phone and called himself so he’d have Michael’s number as well.

“So what are plans looking like next Friday night?” He asked as he handed Micheal back his phone.

“Can’t say that I have anything going on.”

“How about dinner? Around 7? The really good Italian place on 5th?” Derek asked tentatively.

“It’s a date.” -----

#GiveMichaelABoyfriend2k20 😌

#michael grant #athena grant #bobby nash #he looked like a derek okay #bathena #911 #episode filler #this is me trying not to be insecure about my writing #hope you enjoy #fanfic writing hell

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