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narumi-gens · 2 years ago

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Never Felt a Feeling Like This

Narumi Gen x f!Reader

summary: For Narumi, it’s love at first sight. For you, it’s boredom.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, meet-ugly, masturbation (m), hinted femdom, switch!narumi (like literally from one paragraph to the next sometimes), budding degradation kink, but also praise kink, spit kink, inappropriate workplace behavior and relationships, mentioned/implied power imbalance (but in name only), dubiously solicited dick pics, narumi is a simp and I'm embarrassed for him and you should be too, narumi’s imagination gets a real workout in this, no bs4s were harmed in the writing of this fic (takes place pre-bs5 release), do not break electronics without proper safety equipment, excessive emoji use (did you know emojis count as words in the word count??)

notes: the kn8!chaos couple's origin story is finally revealed! I'm just happy I was finally able to use a Beyoncé lyric in a title. she released Renaissance because she wanted the kn8!chaos couple to have music to fuck to.

words: 6.3k

part of the Agents of Chaos series

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment

As the First Division’s Vice-Captain leads you throughout Ariake Maritime Base on a tour of the facilities, you find your interest hanging on by a thread.

All Defense Force bases are essentially the same — you have your training grounds and rooms, administration offices, barracks, an Operation Room, and mission preparation spaces. So, you’re torn between yawning loudly and pulling out your phone to see if there’s anything else more worthy of your time, which there surely is.

The only thing stopping you is that this is your first time meeting Vice-Captain Hasegawa and you have just enough awareness to recognize that doing either would probably lead to a poor reaction from the man. There will be plenty of opportunities to test his patience in the weeks, months, and — hopefully — years to come.

With great effort, you stifle both urges and continue pretending to look like everything Hasegawa is telling you is not going in one ear and out the other. You wish he would just drop you off in the Operation Room so that you could figure out which station and console you wanted to take over.

Your mind has begun to wander so much that you almost run into him when he comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the hallway. Although considering he’s still talking and is pointedly facing a pair of double doors, the stop might not have seemed as sudden if you had been paying attention.

“—wanted to warn you,” he sighs and you realize that you’ve missed everything he’s said before.

But you quickly catch sight of the plaque next to the door that reads, “Narumi Gen, First Division Captain,” and are easily able to piece together what it was that Hasegawa was warning you about.

“Ah, don’t worry, Hasegawa. I knew what I was getting into!” you grin up at him, completely missing the way his eyebrow raises at how casually you’ve addressed him without his proper title. “Captain Ogata made sure of that when he was trying to convince me to take the Head of Operations opening at the Third Division instead.”

Your assurances don’t seem to provide him with any sort of comfort. If anything, his severe expression only deepens.

“Yes, well. We’re a little ahead of schedule for your introductory meeting with Captain Narumi but he should be in,” he says, deciding to move past the unsurprising revelation that the Fourth Division Captain had tried to steer you clear of the chaos at the top of the First.

He sharply raps his knuckles on one of the grand, wooden doors to announce your presence and opens them both without waiting for a reply. When you see what lies inside of the office, you understand why.

Your gaze isn’t sure what it should settle on. The piles of dirty clothes? The overflowing garbage cans? The discarded and empty water bottles, cans of coffee, and energy drinks? The precariously stacked Yamazon boxes lining the walls? The reverently displayed and definitely overpriced action figures?

But your eyes are quickly drawn to the lump inside of the futon laid out in the middle of the office and right in front of the large TV, where a first-person shooter game is playing out on the screen. If you listen carefully, you can just make out the muttering coming from the lump in between the sounds of the game’s gunfire.

You tilt your head to the side as you take in the sight. Even if Ogata hadn’t pulled you aside at every opportunity to caution you away from the First Division, Narumi Gen’s reputation was practically legendary among the ranks of the Defense Force — and only partially for his skill in combating kaiju.

It wasn’t a lie when you told Hasegawa that you knew what you were getting into when you accepted the position as the First Division’s new Head of Operations. However, the chaotic state of Narumi’s office still manages to take you slightly by surprise.

Somehow, you remain unaware of the way the corners of your lips are slightly tugging upwards in a hint of a smile.

You’re pulled from your musings by the waves of anger that you feel radiating off of Hasegawa, who you had genuinely forgotten was standing next to you. His arms are crossed over his chest and this close to him, you can see the vein on his forehead pulsing.

“I apologize for your first impression of Captain Narumi,” he grumbles and you can easily tell that this is a common occurrence for the man. “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll take care of this.”

But before he can march toward the lump, you cut him off.

“No need! I can handle this,” you tell him genially as you curiously open the Yamazon box on top of the mountain nearest you. You’re unimpressed by the six-pack of energy drinks inside. You note that it’s the same brand as the empty cans strewn across the office floor as you carelessly push the box off the stack, where it falls to the floor with a dull thud.

You open the next box and pull out a boxed set of some movie series that you’ve never heard of and which has an obnoxious yellow sticker on the front that says, “LIMITED EDITION!” You pout with disinterest and toss it over your shoulder.

“Are you sure?” Hasegawa asks just as you get ready to move on to the next Yamazon box and you abandon your search through Narumi’s things.

“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” you reply, your nose wrinkled slightly in distaste.

Your admonishment and clear lack of boundaries has a sense of dread creeping up on Hasegawa — one that usually only accompanies a kaiju attack. He’s quick to tamp down any fears that his already-frequent headaches are about to increase, not wanting to tempt whatever higher power might be out there by putting those thoughts into the universe.

The only outward sign of his apprehension is his deepening frown. He responds with a wordless hum.

Turning away from the Yamazon boxes, you look back to the lump to find that it hasn’t moved once despite the noise and your and Hasegawa’s presence. Glancing at the TV screen, you see that the game is still in progress.

There’s an obvious solution to this problem.

The lump is so focused on clearing its virtual mission that it’s easy for you to walk toward the TV, reach behind it, and yank the BS4 plug from the overfilled power strip. The sudden silence from the TV as the console unexpectedly shuts off is met with a screech from the lump, which finally moves to reveal Narumi Gen — captain of the famed First Division and Japan's (supposedly) Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” he screams, tossing off the duvet and stumbling to his bare feet. “I was just about to clear the campaign! You just made me lose all of my progress! Who do you think you are?!”

With every shout, he moves closer, his finger pointed at you furiously and his bloodshot eyes practically bulging from his head.

You answer him by grabbing his BS4 from the floor, lifting it over your head, and slamming it back down where it shatters apart. His shriek this time is so loud and shrill that you truly worry for a moment that your ears may begin to bleed.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeats frantically as he collapses to his knees and tries to carefully pick up the hardware now scattered on the floor of his office, his fingers trembling from the trauma of seeing his most precious possession in pieces.

But he’s too slow for you. You step past him and kneel down beside the BS4’s exposed motherboard. And then, in one smooth motion, you pull a pair of needle-nosed pliers out of the pocket of your lab coat and drive the jaws straight down where it pierces the fragile, green fiberglass.

You can only describe Narumi’s resulting wail as a widow’s wail for how devastated it sounds.

When you stand up and look back down at him, you see the shell of a broken man. He’s hunched over on his knees near your feet. The shattered pieces of his BS4 are loosely clutched in his hands. And if you look closely, you can make out the slight shaking of his shoulders.

“Who are you?” he rasps, his gaze glued to the remains of his beloved console. “How can you be so cruel?”

“I’m the First Division’s new Head of Operations, bitch,” you smirk down at him, your arms crossed over your chest in satisfaction. The revelation seems to catch his attention because his head shoots up to look at you in shock before anger begins to creep in.

“You? You’re the new Head of Operations?” he seethes, abandoning his BS4’s carcass to slowly stand. His fists are clenched at his sides and the tick in his jaw is visibly noticeable.

However, you’re already moving on. You close the distance between you so quickly that Narumi’s fury is momentarily forgotten as he instinctively takes a step back only for you to take one forward.

His stupor grows worse when your hands come up to cup his jaw. Suddenly, all he can focus on is how warm your touch is and how surprisingly pretty you are, your soft features hiding the heartlessness that lurks underneath.

The reminder shatters his daze and he stumbles backward and away from your caress. He tries to put as much distance between himself and you as he can, only to trip on his futon and wind up sprawled on his back on top of the haphazardly strewn duvet.

Not wasting an opportunity to get close to him again and without a second’s hesitation, you follow him and plop yourself down to straddle his torso. A flush breaks out across his cheeks and quickly spreads to the tips of his ears that are peeking out through his messy hair.

The pink grows a deeper red when you sit up, slightly lifting yourself off of him so that you can further lean over him until only a few inches are separating your face from his. The back of his head is already pressed to the futon, leaving him nowhere to go.

His face feels hot under your fingers as you grip his chin firmly enough that he can’t shake you off this time. Although that seems like something you don’t need to worry about as he appears frozen beneath you. You’re vaguely aware of how his own hands slowly and cautiously drop to rest on the tops of your thighs.

Yet, where Narumi is clearly flustered by the compromising position that you’ve forced him into, the ability to grasp the grossly inappropriate and unprofessional nature of your interaction is beyond you. There’s a purpose to all of this, which makes it incredibly easy for you to ignore the feeling of his fingers nervously twitching through the fabric of your pants.

With one hand holding his chin, the other comes up to rest the back of your fingers on his cheek and you can feel how doing so makes him somehow even more tense. The wildness in your eyes has something stirring deep inside of him, which is only made worse by how he’s already missing your weight on his stomach.

He suddenly finds himself fighting the overwhelming urge to slide his hands up to your waist and pull you back down to sit on him. It wouldn’t be that hard. You would probably make a small cry of surprise if he did. He can practically hear it ringing in his ears and it goes straight to his cock, which is quickly growing half-hard.

And then it wouldn’t take much more to move you a little further down until you’re placed right on top of the bulge in his sweatpants. He would use his hold on you to grind your ass down while he bucks his hips up.

His fantasizing takes a different turn when you slowly begin to lean even closer to his face and his wide eyes drop down to your lips. They look so soft and plush. Your tongue peeks out for just a second before disappearing back into your mouth and he wants nothing more than to chase it with his own.

What would your tongue feel like sliding against his? What would it feel like on his fingers? On his cock?

Your teeth lightly sink into your bottom lip and he’s genuinely surprised that he doesn’t cum on the spot.

It’s only your grip on his chin that keeps him from lifting his head to close the gap altogether. Thankfully, you seem to be doing so on your own and his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting slightly in anticipation.

But then his left eye is opening back up against his will as your thumb pulls on the skin just under his eyelid while your index finger lifts the area just below his brow. His right eye opens in confusion, trying to understand what’s going on.

He takes in how your gaze is fixed on his left eye, your head tilting back and forth from side to side curiously, and it slowly sinks in that the slightly manic look that you’re wearing has nothing to do with the kiss he was expecting. All of your interest in him seems to be exclusively tied to his scarlet-colored eyes — the eyes crafted from the retina of Kaiju No. 1.

It feels like someone has doused him in cold water at the realization.

He can feel his dick softening from the disappointment — but only partially. After all, you’re still straddling him and leaning in close enough that he can feel every one of your exhales on his face.

“So, these are the Future Sight eyes…” you murmur to yourself, switching your attention over to his right eye and giving it the same inspection that the left received. You hum thoughtfully and Narumi scrambles to find something to say, trying to think of anything that has even the slightest chance of impressing you.

Before he can start to brag about the kaiju with a 7.4 fortitude level that he neutralized with one shot last week, you’re removing your hands from his face entirely and sighing heavily, a pout forming on the lips that he had just been daydreaming about. You lean back and sit up, dropping your weight fully onto his stomach once again.

You absently rest your palms on his chest and he’s struck by the vivid mental image of you doing the exact same thing if you were to ride him.

The fantasy comes closer to being real when your hands push down for leverage to readjust how you’re seated. Your attempt to find a more comfortable position has you sliding just a little further down his body. His breath catches in his throat when your knees end up on either side of his waist and your ass meets his lap — and the tent in his pants.

His fingers instinctively grip your thighs tightly as he bites back the deep groan that’s desperately trying to escape his chest.

He knows you can feel how hard he is. It’s not like it’s something easy to ignore when you’re sitting right on top of it. Yet the only reaction you have is a slight twitch at the corner of your lips that’s so faint anyone else except for him, the captain of the Defense Force’s strongest division, would have missed it.

And he also notices that it twitched upward.

For a brief second, he contemplates using his eyes on you. Activating them would allow him to visualize your brain’s signals, indicating your movements before you made them. Maybe then he would have a better idea of what you’re planning to do. It’s probably against some stupid regulation to use the weapons designed to combat kaiju on another member of the Defense Force, but you’re a much more formidable foe.

However, he then feels you shifting slightly as you get ready to move so that his hard cock is no longer poking your ass and he panics.

His hands dart up to grab your hips and keep you right where you are. Although you don’t cry out in the way that his ears are yearning to hear, your eyes widen just a fraction, betraying your surprise at his action.

Knowing that his grip is firm enough to keep you from shaking it off, you instead look curiously over your shoulder and down, your back arching as you check if you can see the hardness directly underneath you. It’s the first clear acknowledgment you make of his arousal.

Anyone else, everyone else, would be frantically trying to explain away the situation — as if there’s a way to explain away an erection that your coworker is sitting on. But Narumi isn’t anyone else and he finds his mind wandering yet again.

All he can focus on is how your arched back pushes your chest forward. Despite the shapeless lab coat that you’re wearing and how it covers the majority of your body, he can still make out the curves of your tits and how they’re perfectly framed by your upper arms on either side.

What would you look like in just your lab coat?

His thumbs twitch where they’re firmly pressed to your hips with the urge to slip them under the hem of your shirt and feel the warmth of your bare skin directly. If he did, he could easily slide them, and your shirt, up. Once he had it high enough, he could then curl one finger into the front of your bra and pull it down until your tits were spilling from its cups.

And then all he would have to do is lean up and he could capture a nipple between his wet lips. He could then wind his arms around you beneath your lab coat to splay one hand across the arch in your back, pressing you further into his mouth. By this point, your hands would have moved from his chest to his shoulders where they would be fisting the fabric of his shirt.

He can hear your phantom cries of pleasure in his ears again as his dick starts to ache.

The bubble bursts when you face forward, your back now hunched over rather than arched. You look deeply unimpressed. Narumi is suddenly and viscerally aware of the thin stream of drool that’s slowly trailing from the corner of his lip and down his jaw where it then meets his neck.

You notice it as well and lift a hand up to casually wipe his spit away with the pad of your thumb. His mouth opens on its own, instinctively wanting you to slip the spit-slicked digit inside.

Somehow, the action has you looking even further unimpressed. Rather than sticking it past his parted lips, you wipe your finger clean on the front of his shirt.

When you meet his gaze, the disinterest that he can see in your eyes and in your expression is crippling. Every fantasy that has been playing out in his head over the past few minutes shatters and comes crashing down around him.

“Hm, I didn’t think the wielder of the oldest numbered weapon would be so boring,” you finally say with a frown.

His open mouth closes before opening again, only to close and then repeat the cycle as he finds himself unable to respond. His reaction doesn’t help his case.

“...b-boring…?” he repeats, seemingly incapable of understanding the meaning of the word.

You slap away his hands from your hips and he’s so dazed that he lets you. The insult slowly starts to sink in and his growing indignation soon eclipses every last ounce of arousal.

“Boring?” he angrily cries out and you simply roll your eyes as you stand up. This time when you move off of him, he’s too outraged to miss your weight and warmth.

“Yes. You bore me,” you tell him pointedly, your hands on your hips as you look down at him where he lays on his back between your feet. He gets the sense that this is exactly how you would be looking at a worm that you saw on the sidewalk before trampling it.

“W-well, if I’m so boring why’d you end up with the First anyway?” he retorts with a glare as he finally sits up. “You’re here because you wanted to be in the presence of Japan’s strongest!”

Your features wrinkle in distaste at the sentiment.

“You wish,” you scoff as you step off of his futon and take a moment to examine your nails. “The First Division’s base is on the bay and the Third’s by a river. The ocean is way nicer. Simple as that.”

He can only gape up at you, speechless once more.

You made the biggest decision of your career based on the base’s proximity to the ocean rather than the strength and prestige of the division. A life-changing decision, and you made it on something as superficial as preferring the ocean to a river.

There was no rational thinking involved. There were no thoughtful considerations made. Other than consulting Google Maps, there was no careful research done.

A decision that you would have to live with for years and you made it based on something as trivial as a body of water.

Simple as that.

Narumi’s heart starts to race and his face grows warm. His palms suddenly feel sweaty and he’s hyper-aware of an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. A wide grin slowly stretches across his face.

Before you can walk away, he grabs your ankle.

“Wait! What’s your name?” he asks eagerly. You just smirk down at him and shake off his hand with a kick of your leg before walking away and out of his office without a second glance back at him.

As he watches you leave, he wonders if the irises of his eyes — which usually morph into crosses when being used as the weapon they are — have now taken the shape of hearts.

He’s ready to collapse back into his futon with an infatuated sigh. He still has the tent in his sweatpants to deal with after all and if anything, it’s only gotten harder.

But before he can, he catches sight of Hasegawa, who’s standing stoically by the doors of his office. He wonders if the man has been there the whole time and if so, why he didn’t put a stop to the chaos that just played out before him as he’s normally quick to do.

He vaguely notes that his Vice-Captain looks like he does whenever they’re en route to a kaiju attack and he’s reviewing the information available to assess the threat as best he can before engaging. Determination then crosses his severe features, as if he’s steeling himself for some upcoming battle.

The man appears about to take his leave, but Narumi recognizes that he can’t let his only other source on your identity just walk away.

“Hasegawa! Hey, Hasegawa!” Narumi cries out as he sits up on his knees.

“Yes?” he replies stiffly, steeling himself for whatever is coming.

“Is she single?” He hungrily points in the direction you just went, like there’s any doubt about who the “she” in question is.

Hasegawa’s entire demeanor abruptly turns icy. His arms slowly cross over his chest — usually a sign that a physical assault is imminent.

“I’ll remind you, Captain, that the Defense Force highly discourages fraternization between enlisted personnel,” he says. Despite the lack of violence that accompanies the warning, it’s the most threatening that Hasegawa has ever sounded when reprimanding Narumi.

But all Narumi can think about is how hard he still is and the memory of both your disinterest and your body on top of his as you straddled him.

“Discourages is not forbids,” he smirks with all of the smugness of someone who believes that he’s found the greatest loophole in the history of mankind.

Hasegawa’s scarred features contort into a grimace at Narumi’s easy disregard for the admonishment that he just received. Deciding that the best course of action would be to conserve his energy for the fight that he can see on the horizon, he drops his arms to his sides and walks away from his captain.

“Wait! Tell me her name!” Narumi shouts as he desperately begins to crawl after him.

Hasegawa suppresses the urge to slap a palm to his forehead in exasperation. He looks over his shoulder at the pathetic sight of the man known across the country as Japan’s strongest on his hands and knees, begging for just a crumb of information.

“If you regularly checked your email as is your responsibility as First Division Captain, you wouldn’t need to ask,” he scolds him and with Narumi sufficiently distracted, Hasegawa is finally able to escape, closing the doors to the office with a loud slam!

Meanwhile, Narumi scrambles back to his futon to dig through it for his phone. When he finally finds it, it slips out of his grasp due to how sweaty his palms are. It takes a few tries but with fingers that are trembling with excitement, he’s able to unlock his phone and pull up his email.

He frowns in annoyance at the sheer volume of unread messages. As he starts to scroll through them, his eyes hurriedly skimming through the subject lines of each one, he soon realizes that this is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Doing a quick search for “Head of Operations” pulls up an unopened thread titled, “[URGENT] Start Date: Head of Operations, First Division.” He finds what he’s looking for when he opens it and sees that the latest email is from you, your name appearing in the “from” line.

He slowly says your name aloud, testing it out. He likes the way it tastes on his tongue.

He wonders if your pussy will taste even better when he gets you to sit on his face.

As he skims the email thread for any further information he can glean, he notices that your responses to the information on your promotion and new assignment are largely in emojis. You seem to have a particular fondness for the red 100 emoji.

With a contented sigh, he collapses back into his futon. His phone is clutched tightly to his chest and an adoring smile is painted across his lips.

Rolling over onto his stomach, he rests his chin on a curled fist and returns to his email. Now that he has your name, he happily kicks his feet back and forth in the air and does another search through his inbox for it. He strikes gold when he finds your personnel file attached to a months-old, unopened email.

But he doesn’t get far in reading through it because at the top of the file, just beneath your name, is your phone number. As soon as he sees it, he saves it in his contacts under: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦.

His fingers fly across the screen as he then drafts a new message to you and quickly hits send.

From: Narumi Gen Hey! Go out with me 🙏

He watches the message thread with unblinking eyes, eagerly waiting for the three little dots that indicate that you’re typing to appear at the bottom. When they finally do, the anticipation of what you’ll say is enough to have him salivating all over again.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 ????

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Who dis

He frowns slightly. He’s your new captain. Shouldn’t you already have his number saved in your phone? Rather than letting it ruin his giddiness, he seizes the opportunity that he missed earlier to brag.

From: Narumi Gen JAPAN’S STRONGEST 💪

He smugly waits for your reply. It takes longer this time for the three dots to appear and he’s positive that it’s because you’re too in awe to respond right away.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Oh.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😒

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Captain boring 🥱

Each reply is like an arrow to his heart. The yawning emoji in particular feels like you’ve taken a knife to his gut with a pretty smile on your lips. Desperation quickly takes hold.

From: Narumi Gen Plz go out with me

From: Narumi Gen Pretty plz? 🙏

From: Narumi Gen Ur so hot. Plz go out with me 🙇‍♂️

From: Narumi Gen I’ll do literally anything to go out with u 😫

His responses are sent in a flurry one right after another. If he had the ability to feel shame, he would be embarrassed by how increasingly pathetic he sounds with each sent message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Nope 🙅‍♀️

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 This pussy is closed to losers

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😝

It’s a good thing that he’s already laying down because the one-two punch of being called a loser while also being told that your pussy is off-limits would have had him keeling over.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Enjoy taking care of your little problem on your own 🍆✊💦

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Let me know how it goes 😏

He suddenly feels like you’ve breathed new life into him. Does this mean that you’re imagining him jerking off?

The thought of you thinking of him with his hand pumping his cock has his head spinning. He rolls over onto his back and drops the hand holding his phone by his side as he stares up at the ceiling of his office in a daze.

Acting almost on its own, his free hand slides down his stomach to slip under the waist of his sweatpants and then the band of his boxer briefs. He can’t help the hiss that escapes him when he wraps his hand around his cock. It’s easy to pretend that it’s your hand that’s pulling it out of his pants instead of his.

Would you tell him how boring he is even as your hand slowly begins to move up and down his length? Would you be acting like this is a waste of your time? Maybe you’d be jerking him off with one hand and scrolling through your phone with the other.

His eyes close to aid the fantasy.

He can hear your voice in his ears, every word dripping with indifference as you tell him to hurry up and cum already so that you can go do something that actually interests you. You would barely even look at him, only glancing at him every so often to check how close he is to finishing.

When he spits into his hand to help the glide of his palm, he imagines that it’s your hand and remembers how you didn’t shy away from his saliva when you wiped it off of his chin earlier. His fist speeds up its pace as he imagines what it would have looked like if you had popped your thumb into his mouth for him to suck it clean rather than wiping it off on his shirt.

Or better yet, if you slipped it into your mouth, only removing it once your thumb was free of his spit.

What would it look like if you spit directly into his mouth? He’s positive that you would purse your lips right over his open and waiting mouth and let your spit delicately drip straight down into it. You wouldn’t let him swallow until you told him that he was allowed to. And then you would reward him with a condescending pat on his cheek and a chaste kiss to his shining lips.

And what if he spits into your mouth? He would have you on your knees for him, lips parted wide open, and tongue stuck out as you waited patiently to taste his cock. He would grab your chin with fingers as firm as yours were on his earlier and just when you began to rub your thighs together, he would spit into your open mouth before making you swallow.

Would you whine if he told you that you’re a good girl?

He definitely would if you called him a good boy.

He would whine right into your pussy if you were to tell him how good he was being with his face buried between your thighs, your legs tossed over his shoulders. The words would be broken up between breathless moans as he lapped at your clit, your fingers pulling on his hair to tug his face closer. And he would then start pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy, curling them just right, all so that he could hear you say the words again.

After seeing how little he impresses you, he would give anything for even a scrap of your praise. But he also wants to make you just as desperate for his.

He wants you sprawled across the top of his messy desk.

He wants you to make it even messier when you cum on his cock as he pounds into you, his balls hitting your ass with each thrust and your ankles dangling by his ears. He’d have your arousal dripping from your pussy and down the crack of your ass to pool on the wooden surface of his fancy desk.

He’d then slide two of his fingers through the mess before shoving them into your mouth, wordlessly demanding you suck them clean.

And you would, wouldn’t you?

Because for all of your standoffishness and your seemingly aloof nature, when it comes down to it, you would want to be good for him.

You would keep his fingers in your mouth until you were gagging on them when he shoved them in deep enough to reach the back of your throat. And even then, you would keep your lips closed around them until he decides to remove them.

And when he pumps you full of his cum, you would thank him with hazy eyes and an adoring smile. It would mirror the one on his lips when he drops to his knees and pushes open your thighs to watch his cum slowly drip in thick, white gobs out of your sopping pussy to join the growing pool underneath your ass.

Each mental image that rapidly plays out on the backs of his eyelids pushes him closer and closer to cumming. He can feel the orgasm building in his spine and in his balls, only for his eyes to spring wide open when he remembers your request to keep him updated.

His phone is still in his sweaty hand, his fingers clutched around it so tightly that if he wasn’t so used to holding his BS4 controller for long periods of time, then they would be aching. He absently sends a silent thank you to whoever invented Face ID because it means he doesn’t have to fumble with a passcode to unlock his phone and pull up the camera.

As much as it pains him to do so, he pulls his free hand from his weeping cock to yank his shirt up his torso and shove the hem between his teeth. He moans around the fabric when his hand returns back to his cock, giving it a squeeze as he looks down at it through the screen of his phone, trying to angle the camera just right.

His hand is itching to pick back up its frantic pace up and down his shaft. But he keeps it still just long enough to take a perfectly-framed picture of his hand wrapped around the base of his dick and pre-cum leaking over his fingers.

He hurriedly hits send and drops his hand holding his phone back to his side.

However, his hand has only just started moving again when his phone vibrates in the death grip that he has on it. A pathetic, little whine emerges from the back of his throat when he lifts it up and looks at the screen to find that you’ve already replied.

His toes curl and his hips buck up off the futon as he eagerly opens your message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO

That’s all it takes for him to cum with a groan of your name that’s muffled by the shirt hem still shoved in his mouth. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut as his hips give a few jerks, imagining that he’s spilling his cum onto your face instead of into his still-moving hand.

When he’s finally capable of opening his eyes, he opens the camera on his phone again. With fingers that are tingling from his orgasm, he takes a second picture — this time of his cum-coated fingers and the streaks of white painted across his stomach.

After hitting send, he continues to look at the screen and preens when the three dots almost immediately appear at the bottom.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

A wistful sigh leaves him as spits his shirt out of his mouth and clutches his phone close to his chest, which is still rising and falling rapidly as he pants for air.

“So, this is what love is like,” he muses aloud, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips and absolutely certain that his racing heart has nothing to do with jerking off or the sticky mess coating his hand and stomach.

834 notes · View notes

smolghostbot · 2 months ago

Text

Patchwork Melody - Fall

Chapter 3 of 4! Things are finally taking a turn towards the blushy! As always, dashes usually denote a POV change, though their perspectives are slowly becoming more aligned...

Start here if you haven't read Spring and Summer first.

Word Count: don't... don't worry about it... (8k) (I'm sorry)

CWs: Part 4 has alcohol/drunkenness played for drama, though nothing bad happens. Part 5 has some minor transphobia.

Tag List: @gt-daboss, @reborrowing, @spikyspinachstreet (Hope that's not a presumptuous @)

=====

Part 1

About two months had passed since Patch had officially “moved in” with Melody. The little sprite had taken residence behind an unused electrical outlet on the kitchen counter, converting the space behind it into a small dwelling. Various ropes and ladders had sprang up around the apartment, giving Patch access to various places like the kitchen counter, the tables, and the bathroom sink.

Although the two had become closer, Melody soon came to realize that there was also a more destructive side to her new roommate, as he seemed to have very different ideas about the meaning of “personal property”. Melody would often come home from work to find missing buttons in her clothes, and missing office supplies from her desk, which Patch had put to use in constructing his little mechanisms. For the most part, Melody tried to let it go, as their little roommate at least had to courtesy to not take anything Mel actively used, but they couldn’t help but slightly resent his kleptomania. On several occasions, they had asked Patch if they could just buy him supplies, but he seemed almost offended at the suggestion.

Despite her desire to avoid conflict with Patch, Melody finally hit her breaking point after a long day of work, when she came home to discover one of her beloved plants was missing most of its leaves.

“Patch!” She found herself raising her voice as Patch looked at her, fear in his eyes. “You… did you seriously tear Benjamin’s leaves off?! What could have possibly made you think it was okay to tear apart my plants?! Ugh, you’re impossible sometimes!”

Patch cowered as Melody began to yell. Truly, the sprite had gotten hungry due to Melody not being around, and the “Benjamin” on the table was far easier to reach than trying to open the cupboard where Melody kept her food. However… it didn’t take a genius to realize that Patch had clearly made a mistake here. He knew Melody would never hurt him, they had sworn, right? Yet as their voice raised and they stared daggers at him, he couldn’t help but tear up, an involuntary panic reaction.

“And now you’re crying…” Melody put her hand against her temple before continuing, “Gods, Patch, just because I let you stay here didn’t mean I said, ‘Hey little buddy, feel free to ruin my things and kill my plants! And then make me feel like the bad guy for being upset about it!’”

Patch didn’t know what to do… apologize? How? He couldn’t exactly put the plant back right now… but Mel was clearly furious. As she continued to berate them, and Patch continued to panic, the sprite did the only thing they could think to do: they ran, leaping off of the table and hiding under the couch.

“Hey, hey! I wasn’t done! We’re not done here!”

Melody shouted in frustration, but knew better than to chase Patch down. Instead, she put on her shoes and shouted to Patch again, “I’m going for a walk, and when I come back, we’re continuing this! And if any of my plants are so much as touched again then… Augh!”

Once she was outside in the cool fall air, Melody began to decompress a little bit, but was still furious. Her plants were the closest thing she had to a family anymore, and she had raised all of them from sprouts. To see one torn apart by Patch, for seemingly no reason, had made her freak out, possibly too much, by her own admission. As the chilly air bit at their nose and ears, they tried to think rationally about the situation. Although Patch could understand her, he was decidedly not human, which was easy to forget aside from his tiny size. He was… a something, they had been using the word fae, but he was something non-human, something that probably sees the world through completely different eyes. Sighing, Melody decided to try to talk to him again to get to the bottom of this.

Patch sat anxiously on the table next to the “Benjamin”, wondering how to apologize. Clearly, this plant was important to Melody, but they couldn’t understand why. She had so many plants around, and what else would they be for? Although, they supposed they had never seen Melody actually eat any of them, except for one plant that she kept in the kitchen area. Did this one have sentimental value? Patch struggled to think of why somebody would keep food around for sentimental value, but maybe humans are just different like that. Patch’s thoughts were interrupted as the front door opened, and Melody walked back inside, heading over to the table after seeing Patch was there. After a moment, she spoke, her voice almost a whisper.

“Okay, I’m sorry for yelling, I’m not going to yell anymore. Can we please talk about this?”

Patch nodded, and the human sat down on the couch and began to speak. “Listen, the reason… the reason I was so upset is that all of these plants,” she motioned to the variety of plants around the apartment, “These plants… before you came around, they were like… my family. And then you hurt one of them.”

Family… Patch thought. Oh. Oh no. He didn’t know that humans and plants could be friends… how did that even work? Could humans speak to plants? Immediately, he began to tear up, wondering what Melody must have heard from the “Benjamin” he had hurt.

“I just… why would you tear apart my plants like that? What possibly possessed you to do that?”

Patch bashfully put a hand to his stomach, hoping the gesture would be understood. It clearly was, as Melody’s red eyes lit up with recognition.

“You took the leaves because you were hungry, weren’t you? I know I was gone until late… you probably didn’t have anything around to eat, huh?”

Patch sheepishly nodded as Melody sighed. “That’s… my fault. I should probably leave the cupboard open for you, it’s not right that you have to wait around for me. But listen, clearly there’s some… conflict here. This is your house just as much as it is mine, but that doesn’t mean you can just… tear up my stuff, okay? It makes me feel like you’re taking advantage of me. Just… can you ask first before taking stuff from now on?”

Patch nodded again, starting to understand where Melody’s anger came from. He put a hand over his heart, hoping that the gesture would convey a promise to no longer borrow from her. Tomorrow, he would have to look for entrances to the other apartments nearby… and work to fix what he had done to the “Benjamin”.

Part 2

Things had calmed down over the next few days, with Patch adjusting to borrowing from Mel’s neighbors instead of her. However, there was one reminder of their conflict, that being the struggling plant on the coffee table, which Melody had apparently named “Benjamin”. While Patch had tried to trust Melody with most of their secrets, there was one little “party trick” that could help, one that humans were absolutely not allowed to know about…

Patch clambered up the plant’s pot and walked over to the stem of the plant, sitting down near it, as they had done for the past few days. They closed their eyes and began to focus on the apartment as a whole, the memories contained in it, the feeling of security brought on by the shelter and the inhabitants within. Patch absorbed the feelings of safety and comfort, and prepared to channel that energy as they felt it flow to their hands. As they grabbed onto the stem of the plant, they felt heat radiating to their palm as the energy began to transfer into the plant. This would hopefully be enough life force to keep it from dying, at least.

As they began the energy transfer, their throat began to try to vibrate, an involuntary action which caused Patch to flinch in pain as a droning, scratching sound echoed out from their damaged vocal chords. Normally, this would produce a healing song, but ever since their injury, they were unable to use their power without hurting themself. However, they had to make things right and try. After a few moments, they let go of the plant, not wanting to hurt themself further. The plant still seemed to struggle, but it was the most energy Patch could afford… although they may have given a bit too much today.

Exhausted, Patch made their way back down the plant and onto the coffee table, where they decided a quick nap to recharge sounded… perfect.

When Melody came home, there were two things she noticed. The first was Patch, asleep on the coffee table. She really needed to figure out a way for him to get onto the couch if he was just going to nap on the table like he had been for the last few days.

The second thing she noticed only after getting close to the table, as she saw that Ben had already started to sprout a new leaf from one of the torn-off spots. Was… he growing so soon after losing his last leaves? She was absolutely not going to object to the plant recovering from Patch’s little attack, at the least.

Patch began to stir as Melody walked in, and she quickly greeted her little roommate. “Hey Patch! Guess you decided to… whoa, are you okay, dude? You look super pale right now.”

Patch seemed confused and slow to respond, as if he was lost in thought. After a long moment of staring at each other, Mel took this as a sign as they continued speaking, “Okay, permission to check your temperature?”

When Patch still didn’t respond, Mel held out one finger and slowly approached him. She put the finger to her forehead, as if to demonstrate, before slowly moving it towards her tiny roommate, who seemed uncharacteristically calm. Usually, Patch would involuntarily recoil from their hands. The fact that he didn’t made Mel even more concerned. They gently pressed the back of their finger to the sleepy fae’s head, before quickly pulling it away and beginning to speak in a panic.

“Oh shit, dude, you’re freezing! What happened? Uh, oh no, I have no idea what to do… is this like a flu? Shit, I don’t know what to do… can you give me any advice here? How do I help?”

Patch, shocked awake by Melody’s finger, weakly held up his hands in a gesture to get Mel to calm down, before miming writing something down.

“Right, right, notepad. Got it,” the human replied as they gathered the notepad and gently brought over Patch’s tiny backpack. Patch slowly dug through it for his pencil lead and began to draw after thinking for a moment.

How to explain… there isn’t much a human could help with… thought the sprite. Truthfully, energy drain could only be cured by somebody else giving up some of their energy, which as far as he was aware… humans couldn’t do. They would also heal over time just by resting in an inhabited home for a while, but Patch had to draw something. Thinking on what they had seen from TV as a reference, they decided that they could at least address the searing pain in their throat from the attempted healing.

After finishing the drawing, Melody practically ran over to inspect the drawing, and looked over it with an urgency the sprite had rarely seen before from the human.

“Okay… warm soup, lots of rest, fluids… this is just like a flu! Okay, don’t you worry Patch, I’ll get you back to health, you can trust me. I’m gonna run to the store to buy some soup ingredients, can I move you to the couch?”

Patch nodded, and Melody carefully lifted him and placed him on the couch before she started getting ready to head out in a clear panic. Before leaving, she turned to Patch and spoke again with an urgent tone, “I’ll help you, Patch, mark my words.”

After a short trip, Melody returned and immediately went to prepare a soup. She was hardly what anybody would call a chef, but throwing a bunch of vegetables and stock into a pot was doable, especially if it would help Patch. Truly, they were just nervous because of the mystery of it all. How long had he been sick? Sure, he had been sleepy lately, but Mel had thought nothing of it. Was he okay? Was this because of the plant? As far as she was aware, Benjamin wasn’t poisonous to anything, but she didn’t know what Patch was. Would he… no, she couldn’t think about that. All she could do was give her friend the help he asked for.

As she handed Patch a measuring cup full of soup, making sure to include a piece of broccoli and squash alongside the broth, she was already thinking of next steps. “Okay, so have some soup and rest for a while. I’ll call and see if Grant can cover my shift tomorrow so I can stay home and take care of you, okay?”

Patch shook his head no, but Melody wasn’t hearing any of it. “Nope, it’s happening, little buddy, I’m not leaving your side until you’re better.”

Patch could only sigh, accepting the human’s offer, not that they had a choice. Mel stood up, bringing Patch more soup, some water, and some tissues, though they didn’t know if he would need them.

“I don’t think I would be able to catch anything that you might have, but I’ll be careful. Do you need anything else?” she asked. When Patch once again shook his head, and curled up to fall asleep, Melody was quick to cover his little body with one of the tissues.

“Okay… I’ll let you sleep, but let me know if you need anything.”

And with that, Patch fell into a deep sleep.

The next few days were interesting for Patch, to say the least. As they drifted in and out of consciousness, their body trying to absorb as much energy from the environment as possible, their dreams were vivid and wild.

They were back there, still living in that cage. They were in the present, living in their little shelter in the wall. They were in the past, living in their hometown.

Their dreams were filled with faces they had once seen, faces they’d rather forget, faces they wish they could remember. But one face kept reappearing despite it all, the face of the human who had made it her duty to care for the sick sprite.

Right now, they were outside, like when they had first had their meetings. She was looking off in the distance, humming to herself, a sprite song used to reach out to others. Even though she wasn’t looking at them, Patch could tell she was acutely aware of where they were, and was waiting for them to join. Almost instinctively, the sprite tried to harmonize with her humming, but the pain surged through their body.

Melody turned to look at him, confusion on their face. “Patch, you okay?”

They were on the couch, covered by a tissue. Right. A dream. They looked at Mel, who repeated their question.

“You were… I dunno, it almost sounded like a creaking noise? I actually think it’s the first time you’ve ever made any sound. Are you okay?”

Patch just nodded. Melody said something, but they couldn’t make out the words.

They were in the alleyway they had lived in after escaping. But they weren’t alone. There was another sprite there, one with Mel’s face. Patch felt drawn to her, to wrap her in the biggest hug he could manage. Why? He didn’t know. The other sprite reciprocated the hug, filling them both with a radiant warmth. Warmth…

They awoke to a meal, soup broth poured into a bottle cap. Right. Dreaming again.

They dutifully sipped the broth, before sitting up and stretching.

“Good morning! Well, it’s actually like 5pm, but you know, good morning anyways!” Melody said, watching Patch with a cheerful yet worried expression.

“How are you feeling, buddy?”

Patch nodded, they were indeed feeling a little better, but the thought of standing up made them feel exhausted still.

“Good! You look a little better too, I think.”

As Melody smiled down at Patch, the sprite felt a warm feeling inside, one that was more than just the soup they had consumed.

Part 3

Once Patch’s energy had recovered to a point where they could at least wander the apartment, they began to focus on something new to get their mind off of their weakened state. One thing that had been bothering them since they moved in with Melody was their outfit. The tattered tunic was sufficient for preserving their dignity, but it reminded them too much of… the past. They used some paper scraps from their notebook to sketch some ideas for a few new clothes to wear. Luckily, they had learned to sew clothes at least enough to get a simple outfit together.

“Do I… even want to know where you got that stuff?” Melody asked, looking over Patch’s new outfit as he stood outside of his little room on the countertop.

The outfit was a simple orange tunic, much more form-fitting than his old one, with a small belt around the midsection held together by a small black button. The gray pants were somewhere between tights and actual pants, as they covered Patch’s legs as well as his feet. Of course, the green scarf remained, loosely wrapped around the little one’s neck just enough to cover his scars. The outfit wasn’t very fancy, but was unmistakably an upgrade over his old outfit.

Patch simply waved his hand dismissively at the question. As promised, he had stopped borrowing from Melody, aside from a few trips through her trash that he decided to keep a secret from her. Specifically, this fabric had come from Melody’s upstairs neighbor, apparently an avid fan of sewing, who surely wouldn’t miss a single fabric swatch… or the few others the sprite had borrowed for previous attempts at making a new outfit.

“Well, okay… Either way, it looks nice! And you look much more confident wearing it!” Exclaimed the human. Patch briefly posed like he was modeling, which he had learned from watching one too many TV shows, causing Melody to laugh at just how cute her little roommate was. “Yeah, work it, Patch!”

After the moment passed, Mel spoke again, “Actually… that does remind me, I wanted to ask you something.”

Patch looked inquisitively at Mel, tilting his head curiously.

“Yeah, so turns out Tara said we’re allowed to dress up for Halloween this year,” Mel began. Patch had no idea what a “Halloween” was, but he had put together previously that Tara was another human at Melody’s job. He nodded his head as she continued speaking.

“And, well, basically I found this really cute costume that I thought I could wear, but I wanted to get your opinion on it,” she finished, and Patch nodded with recognition. “Okay, stay right there, I’ll be right back.”

Melody walked into her room, and after a few minutes, came back out, fiddling with something around her ears that Patch couldn’t quite make out. Her outfit was a green dress that looked as if it was made of giant leaves, with some clearly fake butterfly wings on the back of the dress. On her forearms and ankles were some green bands, and the ensemble was completed with a flower crown on her head.

“Wow, these do not do a good job of staying on… but what do you think of the rest of it? I figured it would be cute to dress up as somebody small like you, you know?”

As the realization set in for Patch, he couldn’t help but silently start to silently laugh. An outfit made of leaves? How ridiculous! It would decay in weeks, would probably be incredibly scratchy once the leaves started to dry, and it would hardly keep somebody warm.

“Hey… don’t laugh! Geez, I didn’t think you’d be a tough crowd. Let me guess, you think it looks silly.”

Patch calmed down, and waved his hands apologetically before shaking his head no and giving the outfit a thumbs up, a gesture he learned from Melody.

“Okay, so it’s maybe not the most accurate… although I think it’s still cute!” She said, posing, which got a nod of agreement from Patch.

“I just… have to get the ears to fit… One second…” She mumbled, before turning around and walking towards the bathroom, causing confusion from Patch. Ears?

The question was answered a moment later, as an “Ah ha!” came from the bathroom, and Melody emerged with two clearly fake pointed ears worn on top of her normal ears. Patch couldn’t help but stare. One thing about humans was their off-putting rounded ears, looking more like a rat’s than a sprite’s, but with these fake ears… Patch looked at Melody in a new, slightly awkward light. Did… did her eyes always glimmer like that? Was her face always so… nice? They found themself blushing a bit as they stared at their human roommate, only to be interrupted by her speaking again.

“... Hello? Are you even listening? Ground control to Major Patch? Why are you staring like that? Do they… do they look bad? Shit, is this like appropriation or something?” she mused, quickly turning anxious.

Melody was relieved as Patch shook his head “no”, waving his hands to make the point explicit. As soon as she saw Patch turn red like that, she was worried she had offended him somehow.

“Well, okay, if it’s not like… offensive or anything, I can keep them. We can be pointed ear buddies!” They said, as Patch nodded his head, face still a bit red.

“Well, not right now. The party’s not until this Friday, after all.” Melody said, before turning and walking back into her bedroom to take off the outfit, leaving Patch alone with their thoughts.

Stupid, Patch thought to themself as soon as they were alone. She’s a human! You can’t make things weird just because she’s nice to you and wore some… some costume!

They tried to take a few deep breaths to think things through.

Don’t worry… she’ll take them off and you’ll probably go back to feeling how you did before. Yep. Just like before, where she was just… a friend. I just… she’s nice. She’s nice to me. That’s all. You’re not used to somebody being nice to you. She’s just a friend.

Patch walked back into their little room and looked around to try and ground themself, until their eyes settled on a drawing they had done a few weeks back, of Melody. For reasons they couldn’t explain before right now, just the picture alone was a source of comfort for them. Patch put their head in their hands as they silently continued thinking to themself.

Okay… maybe… she makes me happy. Like… more than a friend. Maybe… I have… some feelings for her. Not that anything will happen, though. I mean, she’s… she’s a human!

Patch flopped down onto their bed, as they heard Melody walk back into the main room of the apartment. They needed time alone to think.

Part 4

“Okay, it’s almost time for me to go,” Melody said, as Patch nodded his head. “I’ll leave some leftover salad out for you, remember that I said I’ll be a little bit late tonight, we’re going out for a Halloween dinner after work. It’s a team-building thing Tara wants to do.”

Their little roommate continued to nod his head. Mel noticed that he was staring at her, as he did the other day when she first put on the costume, but she couldn’t figure out why. He said it wasn’t offensive, but then why would he be so flustered whenever she wore it?

“Okay… I’ll see you later then, Patch. Bye!”

And with that, Patch decided to make their way to the TV remote, to hopefully distract themself from thinking about their feelings for Melody, about how she dropped everything to care for them when he was sick, how she was so considerate of his needs despite being, well, a human.

Hours later, far later than Melody was usually out and about, Patch heard the door start to open. As the door opened, they instantly hid behind one of the flowerpots on the table when they realized the person walking in was not Melody. An intruder? No, there she was… being helped inside by this other human… What happened? His question was soon answered as the strange human spoke.

“God, Melody, you are impossible. We said ‘let’s get a drink as a team’, not ‘let’s get blitzed at the Applebee’s and start doing improv karaoke’”, the clearly-frustrated human said.

“H-hey, hey, shut up, Clay, they were just… just jealous of my singing. They couldn’t handle me at my best…”, Melody said, although there was something off about her voice… something familiar and off.

“Melody, I swear I don’t think you have a best. Now, go sit on the couch or something so I can go home, I only brought you back here as a favor for Tara, I’m not about to play babysitter for your drunk ass.”

“Ugh… fiiiine, you’re no fun. Thank you so much for, y’know, for bringing me home at least. I love youuuu”, Melody slurred, as they were ‘gently’ pushed onto the couch by the other human, apparently named Clay.

“Don’t mention it. Literally. Ever.”

And with that, the other human shut the door, leaving Melody on the couch. Patch cautiously peeked out from behind the pot as Melody began to look around the apartment from the couch. “Heyyy, hey Patch, he’s gone… you can come out! Sorry, I maybe haddd… like, one drink more than I planned…”

Patch recognized that tone. It was the tone they used, when they became even less predictable than usual. They knew about alcohol, and the effects it had on humans, but they had never seen Melody under its influence. Fearfully, they ducked back behind the plant as she spoke again.

“Paaaatch, I know you’re around, it’s late. Come onnn, where are youuuu? Clay’s gone… I promise…”

Where are you…? The words, spoken with that tone, activated something in Patch’s memory. Memories of them, stumbling around the room, trying to find where Patch had hidden. Wanting to stay in control of the situation, Patch decided to make their presence known, though it didn’t take long for Melody to locate them as they rounded the flowerpot.

“Heyyy! I was worried for a second. I promise, I… I promise that Clay’s a nice guy, he just… he doesn’t like me, but I’m sure he’d love you… if he met you… after all, you’re the most lovable little guy of all!”

Patch immediately regretted their decision to come closer as Melody reached for them. “Come here, I missed youuuu”, she cooed, as Patch backed away, shaking their head “no”, and praying she would listen. “No, no… please, not you too… don’t just walk away Patch, I need youuu…. Come on, let’s just… let’s hang out, just us… like friends do…”

Patch wasn’t sure what to do. This entire situation was too familiar… Do they run? Do they stay? Nervous about defying Mel while she was in this state, they nervously walked over the edge of the table and held their arms up. Melody’s face lit up in almost childlike wonder, and she wasted no time quickly, and somewhat roughly, grabbing Patch. She began to coo as she held Patch in her hands, luckily not holding onto them too roughly. “Oh Patch, you’re the… the absolute best… I just… I feel like you get me, you know?”

Patch absolutely did not “get” anything about this situation, especially as the human began to cry just moments after sounding so jovial. “I just… I love you so much, you’re… you’re one of my only friends… I thought I could impress my coworkers but I totally… I totally failed… I just made a fool of myself… What am I doing wrong, Patch?”

Patch was getting increasingly unnerved by how much this conversation was familiar… they would often drunkenly ask Patch for advice on how to fix their life… but get upset when the mute sprite couldn’t give any answers. Nervously, they patted the human’s hand with theirs, hoping maybe it would calm her down. They were instantly caught off-guard as Melody brought her hands close to her chest in what was probably meant to be an embrace. If Patch wasn’t so terrified right now, they might have blushed at the awkward position they were in, especially as Melody was still wearing the low-cut outfit from earlier, sans the wings, which must have fallen off at some point. As they strained their head to look at her face, Patch was hit with a realization that put his brief moment of attraction on ice. Even if she looked like a sprite with those fake ears, this was a human he was dealing with, and humans are unpredictable. And dangerous.

“You’re… you’re my best friend, Patch. Is that… is that weird? I feel like I’ve only known you for a few months, but, but, you’re just… you get me…”

Melody continued to cry for a bit, constantly repeating how much she loved Patch, with Patch awkwardly stuck in her grip until she eventually drifted to sleep, Patch in hand.

“Oh, gods, my head…” Mel said, as she woke up the next morning on the couch. “Wait… the couch… where’s… Patch!” Melody shouted, shocking her little roommate awake as he lay in her hands. “Oh geez, I’m so sorry! Are you… are you okay? Did I go overboard last night? I, uh… honestly don’t remember much…”

Patch tugged at his scarf, which Melody knew by now was a nervous tic. “Oh no… I didn’t hurt you, did I? Please tell me I didn’t hurt you, I… get huggy sometimes…”

Melody sighed with relief as Patch shook his head no. Before continuing, she gently placed Patch on the other side of the couch as she scooted away from him. “Thank the gods… Ugh, I feel terrible! And not just because of this headache… I should have warned you that I can sometimes get a bit… much after drinking with Tara… she has, uh, a much higher tolerance than I do.”

Patch just listened as Melody went on, unsure what to do in this situation.

“I promise, I’ll make it up to you, really! Um, what if I got strawberries for you? I know those are your favorite. Or, you get dibs on what’s on the TV for like, a week! Two weeks!” Melody said, clearly anxious.

Patch waved his hand dismissively… before stopping and pantomiming the shape of a strawberry, which actually sounded delicious right about now. If she was offering one as an apology anyways…

“Heh, I knew I could win you over,” Mel said, though there was an undeniable nervousness in her tone. “Let me get changed and I’ll go to the store and get you some treats to apologize. And I promise that won’t happen again, promise!”

At the store, Mel stocked up their cart with almost every treat they had seen Patch eat. Berries of several kinds, some candies that they knew he could eat, chocolate… Truthfully, Mel felt that simply buying food couldn’t properly apologize for how they treated their roommate, but they didn’t know what else to do.

After getting home, she prepared a giant plate with the treats, and gently called for Patch to come out of his little room, where he had apparently spent the whole time she was gone. Patch walked outside, rubbing his eyes sleepily, before they went wide at his roommate’s apology gift.

“Here, I hope this is enough… I’m really, really sorry. Please forgive me?” asked Mel, nervousness in their tone. Patch couldn’t help but smile and nod as he walked over to a tower of food taller than he was, and started picking at the food. This wouldn’t immediately resolve things, but the offering was definitely appreciated.

The next few days were awkward, with Melody apologizing and trying to make amends at every turn. Patch could hardly be in her presence without being asked if they needed or wanted anything, or being drowned in gifts. Patch had repeated many times that it was fine, but admittedly they were experiencing many conflicting feelings about their human roommate right now. They had spent most of the time in their little room, away from Melody, but decided after much consideration to spend a day with her, to try to prove that they weren’t mad at her.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Mel once again asked Patch. As he had done the last time she asked, twenty minutes ago or so, he shook his head “no”.

“Oh, okay, well if you do, just let me know, okay?” Mel said, to an expected “yes” nod.

Melody knew Patch would respond that way, but couldn’t help but ask. She didn’t know how else to make him know she was sorry. She had already said the words a million times.

“So… what are you drawing?” she asked, trying to change the subject. To her surprise, Patch jumped a bit, quickly covering the tiny drawing with another piece of paper, before looking around nervously and pointing to the TV. Melody was watching a cartoon, which she knew Patch normally didn’t pay much attention to. She immediately could tell that he was lying, but decided to play it off.

“Okay. Well, um, if you want me to pause or anything to practice, just let me know, okay?” She asked, and Patch nodded affirmatively.

Stupid, stupid!, Patch swore to themself as they covered the drawing. It was a silly little thought experiment, just a drawing of a human… who looked remarkably like them. If they were human… what would that be like? How would their relationship with Melody change? Would they be brave enough to actually…

Frustrated with the direction their thoughts kept going, the sprite ripped up the drawing, getting a confused look from the human they were having these feelings for. Melody clearly noticed Patch’s frustration and held her hands up as she spoke.

“It’s fine, I know how it goes sometimes… I mean I haven’t drawn in ages, but sometimes you just can’t make it look right, I get it. I’m sure you’ll nail it next time!”

Patch took a deep breath before nodding and beginning to draw something else, leaving their little thought experiment behind.

Part 5

Something was off with Melody. Despite the human claiming things were fine, Patch could tell from the energy in the apartment that Melody was feeling upset. At first, Patch assumed it was the cold weather, as the first snowfall of the year was a few days ago, but that probably wasn’t it, as her mood had actually gone up on that morning. Granted, it was mostly because she could call out of work, but still, the human seemed to enjoy the snow.

It was an ordinary afternoon, with Patch sitting on the couch watching TV, and Melody sitting on the other end of the couch reading a book, when suddenly Mel’s phone began to vibrate. She only looked at the phone before a look of disgust showed on her face, and she looked back at the book. After a moment, the phone went quiet, only to begin to vibrate again a moment later.

“Ugh!” cried Mel, as she reached over and pressed a button, causing the phone to stop. She looked over at Patch, who was watching the entire thing with confusion.

“Sorry… that was, uh… a number I didn’t want to answer,” said Melody.

Patch continued his staring, tilting his head again to make it clear that he wanted to ask a follow-up question.

“I said it was nobody!” snapped Mel, before she continued reading, as the phone vibrated again. Patch was a bit taken aback, Melody almost never snapped like that, especially not without something big happening.

Patch had to get to the bottom of this. With a determined look, they pointed to the phone again, as it began to vibrate once more. Melody sighed in frustration, and finally grabbed the phone.

“Fine, she gets one chance,” was all Mel said as she pressed on the screen, and a voice came out. Patch couldn’t help but eavesdrop, and heard a name that was decidedly not Melody’s before the human hung up just as quickly as she had answered.

“Aaaand that was her chance.”

Patch was still curious, and mimicked holding a phone to their ear.

Melody put her head in her hands before speaking. “Ugh, fine. That was… my mother.”

Her mother? Patch was instantly curious, but more than that, a bit envious. The human has a chance to speak to her mother, no matter where they are, and she chooses to ignore them? Patch couldn’t help but look at Melody with a scolding glare, hands on his hips.

“What’s with the face?” asked Mel, but she knew the answer. “I know, I know what you’re thinking. Mel, why would you ignore your mom? Well, it’s complicated. She, uh, doesn’t really like me. To say the least.”

This only confused Patch further. Why would she be so insistent on reaching out, then? Patch pointed at the phone, and mimed picking it up again, before pointing at Mel, which seemed to frustrate her.

“I’m not answering the phone to a woman who won’t even use my name!” snapped Melody. “She does this every year around the holidays, calling and begging and pleading for her son to come back to them and be a family again, but it’ll never happen! I’m on my own now, and I’m happier this way, and I don’t need anybody else!”

Despite how confident she sounded, tears were forming on her face. Patch realized they may have misunderstood the situation, and walked over, placing a gentle hand on the side of Mel’s thigh. The human sighed, before speaking again in a calmer voice, “Well, that’s not true. I have my cool little roommate, and I definitely don’t know what I’d do without you. At least you like me for who I am… I think.”

Patch nodded affirmatively, and Mel smiled. “Thanks, dude. Maybe… maybe at some point I’ll tell you the whole story, but you don’t need to worry about it… or me. I’m okay, I promise.”

At that, Patch simply nodded.

“You know, I guess I never asked about your parents. I mean, I guess I’m assuming you have them?” Melody asked, suddenly curious.

It didn’t take long for her to notice Patch’s uncomfortable expression, though.

“Oh shit, are they, uh…” the human said, her voice trailing off.

Patch simply shrugged.

“Oh… I’m sorry I brought it up. I, uh, guess that explains why you were so adamant about me answering the phone. I… I’m sorry.”

There was a moment of silent tension between the two, which was finally broken by the phone vibrating again.

“Yep, it’s her.”

Patch walked over to the phone and kicked it, getting a small giggle from Mel.

“Thanks, buddy. That’ll show her.”

Part 6

The holidays were always tough for Melody, ever since she had left her family. Normally, she would just spend them like any other day, maybe taking up shifts at the library when they were open. But this year, something was different, she had a roommate.

“So… I guess it’s a weird question to ask, but do you have any, like, winter holidays?” Melody asked one day, after seeing the first holiday commercial of the season (Several weeks before December, of course).

Patch seemed to light up, and nodded his head yes. One of the few holidays that sprites celebrated was on the winter solstice, when the night was the longest.

“Oh, that’s so cool! I’d love to learn more about it… maybe we could celebrate together! When is it? What do you do?” Melody asked, instantly excited by the prospect of learning about a different culture’s customs, especially a non-human one.

Patch nodded, and motioned a sign that Mel had come to understand as “Let me try to draw it”.

“Okay! Got it, let me go get your notepad.” Patch went to work trying to draw what he was able to express. On the Solstice, inspired by the humans’ celebrations around that time, sprites would exchange gifts and try to watch the stars when they could, which were believed to be the ancestors of the sprites watching them from the heavens. They would use that time to huddle for warmth and share stories of their ancestors, to keep traditions alive.

Of course, all of that was a bit complicated to draw without using a single word. Patch had slowly been introducing Melody to their written language, drawing objects and what their names looked like, but Melody still wasn’t able to read much.

“Okay, okay, let me try to figure this out…” they said, looking over the drawings once Patch had finished.

“Okay, we have… a drawing of day and night… then a shorter day and longer night… then a moon… oh, that word means moon, right! Longer night, moon… the longest night of the year?” She deduced, and Patch nodded approvingly.

“So, the winter solstice… that would make sense, a lot of cultures have holidays around then… Okay, more drawings… somebody giving something to somebody else… that makes sense, like Christmas. Then we have… one of your kind watching the stars… that’s a really good drawing, actually.” Mel continued, as Patch blushed at the compliment.

“So, gift giving, stargazing… I don’t know what this one means, though,” said Melody as she looked at the final part of the drawing, being a triangle of stylized faces with Patch’s distinct pointy ears.

Patch thought for a minute, before beginning to pantomime speaking.

“Talking… speaking… telling a story? Yes! Telling stories about… each other?” Patch shook their head. Struggling to think of how to clarify, they thought back to the conversation a few days ago, and pointed to Melody’s phone. After a moment of thinking, she seemed to get the message.

“... Mom. Telling stories about family, huh?”

Patch noticed Mel’s mood turned downwards, but nodded.

“Okay… I think I’m getting the picture now. It’s a time for family, just like our holidays, huh?”

Patch nodded again, and Melody seemed thoughtful.

“Well… obviously I’m not talking to my family… and you said you don’t know where your parents are… I guess we can celebrate together, though. I can teach you about our holidays, and we can celebrate yours, ooh, this is exciting actually! I could be the first human to celebrate your holiday! Isn’t that a cool thought?”

Before long, the night was upon them. Melody had set up a countdown to both holidays, the winter solstice and Christmas day. At Patch’s instruction, Melody prepared a nice meal, although the meal was far more lavish than anything Patch’s kind would have been able to prepare.

After sharing a meal while watching a holiday special (Since there was nothing else on this close to Christmas), Melody began to prepare for the exciting part, to her.

“Gift time!” They announced, and Patch seemed to light up as well. Melody brought Patch back to his room, where he disappeared behind the fabric door.

When he emerged, there was a small box in front of the door that Mel had wrapped in a ribbon.

“I know normally you turn down gifts, but I figured this was my chance to help you out,” Mel said, as they gently pushed the box a little closer to Patch.

Meanwhile, Patch stood there with something hidden behind his hands. He placed the object, a small piece of wood about the size of a coin, down on the counter, face down, before gently pushing it towards the human.

“Oh?” said Mel in confusion. Truthfully, they weren’t sure what to expect as a gift from Patch, but they excitedly flipped the small wooden object over to reveal a tiny painting of Melody.

“A… Patch, how did you even get… Nevermind that, this is wonderful!” They exclaimed, as Patch blushed slightly. Truthfully, the detail was incredible for such a small piece. The colors were slightly odd, but Mel was more surprised that Patch was able to find any kind of dyes to work with at his small size.

“Well, yours was super from the heart, and mine was just from the store… I hope you like it anyways,” Mel said, suddenly feeling a bit inadequate. Patch opened the box, and Mel saw his eyes light up and ears perk at the box of paper clips they had prepared as a gift.

“I know you use them a lot for your little rope ladders and stuff… I figured it would be a useful gift…”

Patch smiled wide at Melody before pushing the box into his room, and she knew that the gift was appreciated.

After receiving the generous gift from Melody, Patch pointed to the window. It was time to watch for stars.

“Right, right. Luckily, my window has a pretty nice view of the sky, and it looks clear enough, we might see a few stars!”

After holding her palm up, she gently lifted Patch and moved herself and her little roommate over to the windowsill. Mel placed Patch down as she leaned her elbows on the other side, watching Patch look up at the sky. He seemed lost in thought.

“... I wish I could hear your stories… I’m sure you have lots to share,” Melody mused. “I only know a few words of your language, though… not nearly enough. Maybe by next year…”

Silence filled the room for a moment as both parties watched the sky.

“Oh, is that- No, sorry, that’s a plane…”

More silence filled the room.

Breaking the silence in the best way they could, Patch gently tapped on Mel’s arm, before pointing at her and then the sky, with one or two stars breaking through the city’s lights.

“Me? Oh… my stories, yeah.” Melody said, but her attitude seemed withdrawn.

“Um… I don’t really know what to say about my family. They’re kind of… not in my life anymore. There’s my mom and my brother, Archie, but… like I said, there isn’t much to talk about.”

Patch nodded, taking in the new information. They knew Melody has a mother, but the sibling was new information.

“Do you have any siblings?” Melody asked.

Patch shook their head, before holding up one tiny finger.

“Ah… okay.”

Once more, awkward silence draped over the two of them, though Patch seemed content to watch the sky.

“You know, there’s so much I want to know about you, buddy. Your past, your family… your name. I feel like I should know more about you by now.” Melody mused.

“Do your people have anything like New Year’s Resolutions?” she asked.

Patch looked at her in confusion, so she began to elaborate.

“It’s basically when you’re really determined to do something in the next year. I don’t usually do them, but I think… I think my goal is to learn your language, really focus on it… maybe even teach you mine while I’m at it. That way, I can finally learn more about you.”

Patch smiled and nodded, a determined look on his face. If he was going to live with Melody, they needed to be able to communicate better.

“I’ll take that as a yes. I’m warning you, I’m far from the best teacher, but I’m sure I could find some library books that could help…” Melody trailed off, already lost in thought planning how to start the lessons. She was interrupted by a small feeling on her arm. Looking down, she saw that Patch was sitting on the windowsill, leaning up against her arm as he watched the sky.

Learning could wait. Tonight, they were watching the stars.

#nope third time is still just as anxiety inducing #i swear the final chapter won't take another year to post. prommy.#hopefully this isn't too much of a tonal shift away from the whumpiness but it was never going to be that way forever #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t ocs #oc tag: patch #oc tag: mel

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