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heartchoi · 1 year

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little wishes ㅡ k.th

synopsis: you help out a random anonymous user on a message board woo their crush. all the while, your best friend becomes closer and closer to you.

pairing: best friend!taehyun x gn!reader

wc: 2.8k

includes: fluff, friends to lovers, they're both really oblivious, one curse word, mentions of passing away (it’s a joke)

a/n: a late taehyun birthday fic! i apologize in advance if the writing isn’t good… i haven’t written fluff fics like this since 2021, please forgive me 💔 hopefully you enjoy it, happy reading!

Anonymous [2:05 PM]

does anyone know how to confess to your crush ? we’ve been friends since first grade and im afraid i’ll ruin our friendship… any tips to win your best friend’s heart ??

↳ 444hugfairy [3:04 PM]

thats so cute! i have a friend just like that, i think if i were in their position i’d probably swoon if he gave me homemade goods ^_^ nothing like home cooking made with love to capture someone’s heart!

you immediately pressed send on the reply, a smile overtaking your features thinking about how cute this confession is going to be. to be honest, you wish you’d have your best friend-who-you-might-not-have-been-in-love-with-since-sophomore-year do things like these for you.

unfortunately, you don’t think taehyun feels the same, anyways. he’s too out of touch when it comes to affection, especially with you. i guess it sucks being in the friend-zone. (he’s never explicitly stated that, but you don’t need his confirmation to know.)

you’ve been pining after him for years at this point. it was during your sophomore year of high school when you suddenly realized that you were in love with him. you were in denial about it for weeks, but the pitter-patter of your heart every time he greeted you or pushed his hair back said otherwise. you were blasting some random love song on the radio when your brain finally got it; you were terribly in love with your best friend.

it was almost sickening to accept. theres no way he could ever like you back! kang taehyun? in love with someone like you? that might take a miracle for that to happen.

that’s what you tell yourself, anyways. you’re a little dramatic. but as you’re now in the middle of your third year of college and still painfully in love with him, a little exaggeration should be excused.

in fact, if asked, you could probably make a list of the reasons why you adore taehyun (sweet, handsome, hot as hell, intelligent, quick-witted, did i mention hot?) so much.

god, you love him to bits.

“…what are you doing here?” you ask, rubbing your eyes. taehyun shows bright and early at your doorstep, immediately pushing a tin of cookies into your hands. he’s taken care of his looks as well, suddenly showing up at your door with a leather jacket, black shirt thrown on as well while he wears a pair of dark jeans. he now has a chain necklace on him, god knows wherever he got that. taehyun clears his throat, looking away. a giggle escapes your lips, and you can’t help but think, he’s so cute.

“i didn’t make these for you, i, uh, made too much food yesterday. wanted to give them to you because you like cookies, right?” he gulps, attempting to make eye contact with you. “oh.” um. okay? that’s a little out of character for him, but the cookies he shoved into your arms certainly do look delicious. “you should try one.” he says, staring at you expectantly.

“okay!” you chirp, carefully picking out a cookie before taking a bite.

the cookie is delicious, for sure. it’s simple, chocolate chip. but as the chocolate spreads across your tongue and blends with the chewy dough, you can’t help but close your eyes at how good it is. “is it… is it good?” taehyun asks cautiously, arm rubbing the back of his neck. “it’s great, tyunnie! how’d you make it?” you ask, eyes shining with curiosity. you don’t remember taehyun being so good at baking. in fact, you feel honored that he decided he should give you the cookies in the first place.

taehyun mutters something under his breath, before he confidently states, “a magician doesn’t tell his secrets.”

“this is a cookie recipe though?”

Anonymous [9:34 AM]

thank you guys for helping me with my last post! i gave them some homemade baked treats, but i don’t think they got the hint… any other advice you guys could give me ? : (

↳ 444hugfairy [5:53 PM]

i see you took my advice anonymous… hmm… i think you should probably surprise them by bringing them out somewhere, like a date! you should be a little subtle about it though haha, if you outright say it’s a date you might be too obvious

↳ [re: 444hugfairy] Anonymous [6:02 PM]

i did, thank you so much ! i’ll try to do this as soon as i can, hopefully it’ll make it more clear to them ㅠㅠㅠ

ah, anonymous seems so nice, you think. this person must be so lucky to have someone like this in their life.

↳ [re: Anonymous] 444hugfairy [6:05 PM]

of course, anything to help! you go ~~

it’s a chilly thursday, snow crunching beneath your feet as you walk around the streets of seoul. you can barely feel your nose, occasionally scrunching it every once in a while to get the nerves in your nose unfrozen. the low temperatures were enough to make you want to never go outside again and just stay curled up in a ball all day in bed. even through all that, winter remains your favorite season. something about it just makes you feel so nostalgic and at peace. the snowy peaks catch your attention immediately, admiring how it looks until you’re snapped out of your daydream.

a call from taehyun rings through the air as you pick up, but you nearly lose your grip and drop your phone the second he speaks.

“let’s go out. where are you? i want to take you somewhere.”

is he insane? does he not know the effect he has on me? my god, kang taehyun. you’ll be the death of me.

“what’s the occasion? this is a little out of character, tyun.” he can’t see it, but you’re sure he can envision how you raise an eyebrow at his sudden proposal. “nothing. was just a little bored. can we meet at the park? i’ll pick you up from there.” shyly, you agree and immediately hang up the phone. he’s driving you crazy and he doesn’t even know it. this is awful for your health.

the snow has become heavier now. your once clean coat is now covered in a thin blanket of ice crystals, and you cant help but shiver as you wait.

it feels like eternity in the cold when you finally see taehyun drive up to you. "i'm sorry for being late, ___. are you cold?" he asks tenderly, hands cupping your cheeks.

suddenly, you no longer feel cold. you can't tell if its the blush radiating from your cheeks or his warm hands holding them while he inspects your face thoroughly. "your face is red." he comments. oh my god. he noticed. your face turns even redder, absolutely flushed with embarassment. "it's just a bit cold, that's all." somehow, you managed to stutter out a response. a look of concern flashes over his features, but disappears immediately when he fronts a grin. "shouldn't have kept someone waiting, hm? come on. let's go."

the car drive is very silent between the two of you. what just happened? the scenes replay in your head over and over again, and you can't help but feel sick to your stomach at just remembering it. the way his hands caressed your skin, all you want is for it to happen again. (bonus points if both of you touch lips. kdrama mentality is real. anyone can dream.) taehyun quietly turns on his radio, the sweet sounds of a mellow love song playing in the background. damn, even god wants you both to get together. there is absolutely no way this should be happening right now.

taehyun clears his throat when you both arrive at a red light. carefully, he cranes his neck to look at you, but you seem a little too invested looking out the window. he sighs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "so, ___. it's been a while since we hung out like this, huh?" his attempt at starting conversation is a bit lame. (you didn't realize this at the moment, but now that you look back at it, what was he thinking?)

"um, it's been pretty good."

"that's uh, that's good." he says, awkwardly.

silence envelops the two of you, time seeming slower than ever as you both wait for the red light to pass.

"do you still like to ice skate?" taehyun asks, the first to break the heavy silence.

"i haven't skated in years, taehyun." he chuckles, a smile now gracing his features. "it doesn't hurt to start over again, right?"

taehyun leads you inside the chilly ice-skating rink, already filled to the brim with couples and friends laughing and screaming as they slid over the ice. "come, ___! let's go!" he pulls at your sleeves excitedly, already preparing to get pairs of skates for the two of you. of course, you agree, albeit reluctantly, but not because you didn't want to skate. god, no, of course you wanted to. especially with taehyun.

it’s just that you feel as if your heart is about to pulse out of your body and run away, would this be considered a date? between… friends? theres no way you could confront him about this without pulling a “what are we?” moment. what even are you two now, anyways? it feels like you’re a couple in the talking stage.

you follow taehyun wherever absentmindedly, your body seating itself on a bench while you put on your skates. the laces feel unfamiliar in your fingers, twisting and turning it every direction. the rough rope slightly burns your skin, making you hiss out in frustration. “here, let me help you.” taehyun says softly, placing his hands over yours while he ties your laces. he chuckles a bit, hands never letting go of yours. “can’t believe you forgot to tie laces, ___. thought everyone knew that.” your face turns red for what seems like the umpteenth time that day. he just seems to know exactly how to fluster you. you pray to god for him to stop testing you like this.

“it’s okay. i’ll tie them for you whenever you want, sugar.”

…

sugar?

he just called you… sugar? kang taehyun just called you a pet name. oh my god. the world is ending. this is it. you’re about to pass away.

taehyun smiles up at you when he finishes tying the other skate. he acts as if he didn’t call you sugar just now, pulling your hands towards him to enter the rink. his fingers intertwine with yours, fitting perfectly in between the spaces like a puzzle.

the two of you end up skating on the ice just like that, hands intertwined, gliding across the ice. the silence between you both now feels more comfortable. you opt to savor the moment, relishing the warmth of his hand on yours. “this is nice.” and it really is, here you are, holding hands with the boy of your dreams while you ice skate together. if you had your phone on you right now you could take a picture of this moment and go pinterest viral. you’re not quite sure if that’s a thing. but it makes sense.

the boy next to you merely nods, lost in thought. “uh, ___, i-“ he starts nervously, heart palpitating through his chest. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think it’d be pressing against his ribcage right now. you hum questioningly, “what is it, tyun?”

“i think i’m- oh my god, are you okay?”

he’s immediately cut off by you falling on your butt, wincing in pain. i guess that’s one way to present yourself in front of your crush, you muse while you brush ice off your pants.

the ice-skating dilemma, as second-best-friend choi beomgyu dubs it, remains fresh in your mind the next day. you just cant fathom that the whole thing really happened.

“can you two just kiss? no one can stand it anymore.” beomgyu practically begs when you tell him about the whole thing. “even soobin is sick of it. and it’s soobin, for god’s sake! he’s practically a fool when it comes to love! he didn’t even notice that one girl hitting on him for weeks until she actually said it straight to his face!”

“i don’t think you needed to diss soobin like that,” you say quietly, as if the man in question was going to appear from the shadows at the mention of his name. “he’s not here. i’m allowed to say whatever i want about him. no one is stopping me.” beomgyu retorts, rolling his eyes. “but-“ you try to say, but he immediately shuts you down. “no buts! and we’re getting off track ㅡ PLEASE just date taehyun. everyone is getting sick of it." you play with the hem of your clothes nervously at the thought of having to confess to him. “but how are you so sure he likes me back? the chances feel like a solid one percent.”

beomgyu facepalms with a loud ‘smack,’ he’s sick of you at this point. it has him questioning why he’s friends with you instead of vice versa, as per usual. “he literally does not shut up about you. every day. it’s always ___ this, ___ that. he does not shut up.” his sudden confession has your eyes widening. “he talks about me?” you say, in disbelief. beomgyu sighs exasperatedly. it’s almost like it was obvious. “okay. originally i was gonna stay silent about it. but after that, i cannot do it anymore. do what you want with that information. go kiss taehyun.”

“i can’t believe it.”

“i can’t either. please get out of my living room now.”

Anonymous [3:13 PM]

thank you all for your help! i think i’m going to tell them now, i just can’t handle it anymore. i just need to get this off my chest :( thank you all for your help once again !! hopefully they accept !

you can’t bring yourself to reply to their mysterious person’s last post.

you’re laying in bed. beomgyu revealing that taehyun had talked about you had you all giddy: kicking your feet, giggling with a hand over your mouth, and rolling around on your bed. you couldn’t believe it.

perhaps you and this anonymous person will get their happy ending. just maybe.

it's been a few days since you've last heard from taehyun. ever since he carried you back from ice skating, he's been radio silent.

like, he's silent. he has not said or done a thing. a tiny guilt monster has been eating away at your stomach everytime you refresh taehyun's social media, only to find nothing new. you're starting to feel like a stalker (even though the victim has been friends with you for years).

beomgyu's been very assuring, encouraging your relationship and even going above and beyond to trend "#___HYUNREAL" on twitter, despite the fact the only people using the hashtag are him and soobin. they're great wingmen. you should applaud their efforts.

you're giggling to yourself over some meme they sent you when taehyun strolls up to you, seating himself right next to you. "hey." he says, smiling. his smile is almost cat-like, it makes him look so adorable. "hi, tyun!" you greet him, and you believe you might be head-over-heels in love.

taehyun's smile falters a little as he ponders his next words.

"___... i..." he begins, cautiously saying each syllable, afraid of what will come next. you cocked your head slightly, confused as to why he was suddenly so hesitant.

"what's wrong?" you ask. his demeanor has changed entirely, in a matter of seconds. it's become concerning. "i- i just need to tell you something." he responds, eyes wavering.

"oh. okay then, what is it?" you question sweetly, and that does it for him. he can't take it anymore.

"i'm in love with you," he confesses. "i've loved you for ages. i can't imagine myself being with someone other than you. it's driving me crazy, every sunset, every sunrise, every second, every minute, my mind thinks of you. and my heart just can't take it anymore, ___. even if you don't like me back, i still want to be friends, because i just can't see my life without you in it somehow."

when he finally finishes his ramble, his chest heaves, exasperated from blurting his inner thoughts and feelings so quickly. taehyun notices your shocked expression as soon as he recovers. his head hangs low, already accepting his wordless rejection. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have put that on you so suddenly. but i really mean it, i-" his words are cut off when you press a kiss to his cheek, softly turning his head to give him a kiss on the lips as well.

"you think too much, silly. i love you too."

the poor boy turns into a blushing, mumbling mess with your hands cupping his face like that. certainly a rare sight for the kang taehyun.

"i thought you'd never feel the same."

"taehyun, love, i've had a crush on you since forever. how could i not have fallen for you?"

"...love?"

Anonymous [1:43 PM]

i have an s/o now !!! i'm so happy, ___ if you're out there i love you to the moon and back ♡

↳ 444hugfairy [1:58 PM]

i love you too ♡

#txt fluff #taehyun fluff #txt x reader #taehyun x reader #kang taehyun x reader #txt imagines #taehyun imagines #🍒.taehyun

735 notes · View notes

cloudbersoo · 10 months

Text

would you mind?｜zhang hao

synopsis: how to get over a guy you didn’t even date in ten easy steps with the help of zhang hao.

tags: zhang hao x gn!reader, acquaintances to lovers, university au, fluff, slight angst, y/n likes someone else at the beginning, y/n is very drunk, making out when drunk, shy!hao, bestie!matthew has no filter, roommate!taerae, hanbin keeps laughing, what did jiwoong do though? y/n overthinks a little sometimes, mentions of sex and implied sex but no explicit smut! (im a minor and can’t write smut for the life of me)

word count: 6k (how did this get so long?)

a/n: this is my first fic in like six years and the first in english altogether! idk how to feel about this one but i thought to post it anyway. writing this honestly made me respect fanfic writers so much more, it really isn’t easy! this took me like five days to make. not sure how often i’ll be doing this but i enjoyed writing a lot. sorry for any grammar errors or such, i proofread this a couple of times, but my english isn’t perfect, so some mistakes might go past me. anyway, thanks and sorry! enjoy reading!

my playlist while writing: in bloom & new kidz on the block by zb1, cream soda & private party by exo, roller coaster & party o’clock by nmixx !!

i. drink your feelings away

“finally you’re here” matthew mumbled in his slightly drunken stage, leaning onto a wall as you closed the door behind you. you could hear the music and people’s chatter coming from the living room. the smell of alcohol was also very strong, especially on your friend. you wished you could just turn back and go home. you were way too miserable to party right now but the sweet smile matthew was giving you was making you stay. you couldn’t possibly disappoint your best friend on his special day.

“yeah, sorry for being late” you finally answered to the birthday boy as you handed out your gift with a forced smile. “happy birthday matt.”

he took the bottle of wine and chuckled. “thank you y/n” he said, looking at the bottle of his favourite. “for this and for coming tonight” he continued as he raised his gaze to you apologetically.

“of course” you uttered, trying your best to convince your friend you wanted to be here, as if you didn’t just think about leaving two seconds ago. your convincing didn’t seem to be working as matthew sighed. matthew put down the bottle and walked in front of you. he examined your face for a while before he embraced you in a hug. “he didn’t deserve you anyway” he whispered close to your ear.

right.

jaemin.

the guy who broke your heart just a few days ago. he didn’t mean to, you suppose. he just didn’t realise you were totally in love with him when he introduced you to his partner of three years. how stupid could you be?

you held your tiers in at the mention of him. not today. you can cry about it later.

you embraced your friend for a while as you collected yourself. “you know what matt?” You finally spoke as you made eye contact with him. matthew hummed, looking at you with anticipation.

“i’m going to have fun tonight.”

ii. embarrass yourself

about five bottles of soju and a couple beers later you were completely out of it. you were somewhere in matthew’s apartment, kitchen or living room, you were not entirely sure. laying on the cold floor with zero thoughts of your shattered heart. you felt at peace. your peace, however, didn’t last long as it was eventually broken by a familiar voice calling your name.

“y/n? you okay down there?” the voice asked with amusement. you opened your eyes and were met with hanbin’s gaze from above you. he must have found your state hilarious as he bursted out laughing.

you got up from the floor with difficulty and flopped next to him on the couch. “never been better” you mumbled to your friend with a relaxed smile. you started making yourself comfortable and leaned your head on hanbin’s shoulder. what you failed to notice in your drunken state was the other person sitting on the couch. the one you were currently cuddling up to.

“hao” your friend started. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen y/n so wasted” hanbin laughed with tears in his eyes.

what.

suddenly, you were too aware of your surroundings, like there was no alcohol in your system anymore. you quickly got up and saw that hanbin was not in fact the person you had leaned into. the person sitting next to you was hanbin’s good friend, zhang hao. the boy’s face flushed as he looked at your shocked face.

oh my god.

you were not that familiar with zhang hao. you knew he was good friends with hanbin and matthew. he was from the music department just like your roommate taerae, and you were pretty sure he played the violin. he was reserved and quiet, and definitely not the most fond of you (even though your friends have tried to convince you otherwise). a friend of a friend. that’s what he was. not someone who you could comfortably cuddle with. this is so embarrassing.

“i’m so sorry!” you quickly blurted out as you hid your face behind your palms. you could still hear hanbin’s laugh as you were thinking about your way out of the situation.

“it’s o-okay” zhang hao managed to stutter. you were in too deep thought to hear what the boy in front of you was saying. you searched for your other friend in the crowd. it’s time for me to leave. as you found matthew by the balcony with a girl, you turned back to the men on the couch. “i’m just gonna go!” you quickly said to prevent any more embarrassment and made your way to your best friend.

he saw you coming from afar and smirked at you. “you’ve definitely enjoyed yourself” matthew said delightfully. oh. he definitely saw everything.

“you saw nothing” you bit back and leaned onto your friend as the alcohol started to kick back in again. “i’m going home” you continued. could you even walk straight? no. but you could just call your roommate to meet you halfway.

“in this state? no you’re not” the boy slurred just as drunk as you were. he wrapped his arm around your shoulder in an attempt to keep you from leaving. you were glad your friend cared about your safety even when he was drunk. his company, however, was not enjoying the sight in front of her and you could tell you had interrupted something.

“i’ll call taerae to pick me up, don’t worry.” you assured your friend. “i’ll leave you two alone now.” you gave a smile to the girl and mouthed “sorry” as you left the two before matthew could protest any further.

iii. make a foolish choice

walking down four sets of stairs with your hands occupied by your phone was a challenge. you somehow made it though and were trying to contact your roommate. he was not answering. where is he? your apartment wasn’t that far from matthew’s but the darkness was creeping you out a little. you sent a quick text to taerae, saying you were coming home before you started your journey.

you had made it past a couple turns when you started feeling like someone was following you. you’re just being paranoid, that's all. but the feeling only grew stronger as you clearly heard footsteps behind you. you were already walking as fast as you could in your state. is this the end? “i’m gonna die-”

“y/n,” you quickly turned around to the familiar voice.

zhang hao.

“oh it’s just you” you said as you relaxed until it hit you. zhang hao. the reason why you had run away from the party in the first place. your surprise finally showed on your face, which zhang hao found amusing.

"sorry if I scared you” he let out an airy laugh while awkwardly standing in front of you. for some reason you had never really looked at the boy. he was tall and his hair was still styled nicely even after a long day. he was wearing a light blue button up shirt with black jeans that seemed way out of your price range. there was something about the way he was looking at you under the glow of the streetlights. he was looking at you with stars in his eyes, like there was no one else but the two of you in the world. the sight of him almost made your heart skip a beat. he had a few moles on his face, one right under his eye and another on his cheek that you wish you could kiss right now. has he always been this pretty?

no. why is he here?

he tried to give you a reassuring smile as he took a step closer. “you shouldn’t walk alone at this hour, it’s not safe for you.” he continued like he had just read your mind.

“so you think I'm safe with you?” you asked, slightly teasing. it was definitely the alcohol speaking.

the boy’s eyes widened in shock and he opened his mouth to say something but failed. “well- I mean” zhang hao finally responded with panic, not quite sure what he was supposed to say. you couldn’t hold your giggles which seemed to ease his nerves. his figure seemed to relax as he walked past you. “my apartment isn’t that far from yours, so we can just walk together. it’s safer for both of us.” zhang hao finished.

lies. you’ve once picked hanbin up from his apartment and it's nowhere near yours. however, zhang hao didn’t need to know that you knew. you wouldn’t mind walking home with him even if the two of you weren’t that close, because he was right – this was safer (not because he suddenly made you think of things you haven't before).

so, the two of you continued walking towards your place. zhang hao didn’t say much as you walked, only telling you to be more careful as you almost stumbled to the ground. he also decided to hold you up from your waist from that point on – which you definitely didn’t mind. he didn’t seem to mind either as there was no signs of annoyance that you would’ve except from zhang hao in this situation.

“we’re here” he said as the two of you stood in front of your apartment building. you really didn’t want him to go. you really didn’t want to be alone at all. because you knew the moment you were alone again you’d break down again and cry about the guy who broke your heart. just for this one night, you wished not to cry yourself to sleep. maybe it was foolish of you to ask zhang hao of all people to comfort you, but right now you couldn’t think of anything else.

“would you like to come in?”

“do you need help to get to your door?”

you both had talked at the same time. you broke eye contact as the two of you chuckled. so he didn’t want to leave yet either? as it got quiet again you decided to look at the boy again. zhang hao seemed hesitant as he studied your face. then he smiled at you as he said “if that’s what you need.”

iv. get cockbocked by a roommate

some might find the silence between you and zhang hao awkward, but you found it soothing. he was drinking the water you had given him as you sat on the kitchen counter. he looked even more handsome up close. the way he was leaning onto the counter and the way he was looking at you. oh, how much you wished to make him yours tonight. would he mind?

your mind stopped wandering as the boy put down his glass on the sink. “i should probably go and let you sleep” he said quietly as he stood in front of you. he was incredibly close to you, his hand on your knee, his nose almost touching yours – like he didn’t want to leave. you couldn’t help but lower your gaze to his lips. they were pink and puffy, slightly wet like they were waiting to be kissed. you looked back to zhang hao’s eyes but they didn’t meet yours. he was doing the same thing – staring at your lips.

maybe you were going to regret it. maybe this wasn’t right, kissing your friends’ friend. but you couldn’t possibly think about any of that as you leaned in.

his lips felt as soft as they looked. it took a moment for zhang hao to realise what was happening but eventually he kissed you back. his left hand landed on your cheek as his right hand went up your thigh. the kiss deepened as you put your hands around the boy's neck, pulling him closer to you. you don’t remember the last time you have been kissed like this. he was driving you insane and you wished he’d never stop.

“y/n?” you hear a voice say at the door.

taerae.

you and zhang hao froze before you rapidly let go of each other. sleepy taerae rubbed his eyes walking into the kitchen as you tried to calm your beating heart. so he didn’t answer because he was asleep. you took a look at zhang hao who’s blush was prominent even in the dark. “when did you get home?” your roommate asked as he yawned.

“zhang hao walked me, i was just giving him some water before he left.” you blurted out an excuse, which wasn’t inherently a lie – taerae didn’t need to know what happened after that. your sleepy roommate didn’t look suspicious and seemed to buy it. “he was actually just about to leave.” you took another look at zhang hao, trying to get him to say something.

“yeah, i’ll just get going then.” he said, bid taerae goodbye, and was out of the apartment in mere minutes.

fuck.

v. overthink your life choices

lunch used to be your favourite time of the day, mostly because you used to share it with jaemin all the time. matthew barely ever had time to eat lunch with you, which is how you got to know jaemin in the first place. the two of you clicked instantly and you thought there was something between you. how wrong you were. the past week you have been distancing yourself from jaemin and he hasn't been asking after you. you really meant nothing to him in the end. even now he’s just a few tables away loudly debating about something with his group of friends, completely unaware of the effect he has had on you.

taerae’s giggles seem to wake you from your slumber. you moved your gaze from jaemin to your roommate. he was laughing over a video hanbin had just shown him. “what is jiwoong doing?” he managed to say between giggles.

“speaking of the devil” hanbin said as he waved past your shoulder. jiwoong walked to your table with zhang hao next to him, which was odd as the two of you’ve had a similar relationship with the chinese boy up until a few days ago (unless jiwoong had also been making out with him recently). “what did i do?” jiwoong questioned his friends as he placed his lunch on the table.

“nothing, nothing. where’s matthew?” hanbin said as he hid his phone with a grin.

“he’s on a date” you said nonchalantly. everyone at the table suddenly turned their heads towards you. they had totally forgotten you were even there as you had spent most of your break staring at a certain someone. you should get your shit together.

“oh right, zhang hao! thanks for walking y/n home the other night.” taerae said as zhang hao sat next to hanbin. well shit. you hadn’t told anyone of what had happened with zhang hao after matthew’s party. you hadn’t even talked to zhang hao since then. you felt awful that you had tried to use him to forget about someone else, and then kicked him out as your roommate found the two of you. you weren’t sure how you were supposed to even bring it up to him when you were never alone with him anyway.

“you walked her home?” hanbin questioned as he turned his head to his left where zhang hao was sitting. the boy only gave his friend a small nod as he dug into his food. his aura seemed so different in the daylight. his hair wasn’t styled like at the party, it was a bit all over the place. the way he stuffed his mouth full of food made him look cute. his cheeks were slightly pink with blush. while observing the boy, you had completely missed the teasing smile on hanbin’s face.

how were you supposed to talk to him? thanks for walking me home and making out with me in my kitchen. does he even want to talk about it? the two of you had seen each other around campus a couple times since then and he hasn't tried to talk to you once. maybe all of it was just a spur of the moment thing for him that he now wished to forget about.

you sighed as you decided it was your time to leave for class. there was no way you were going to talk to zhang hao now anyway, not in front of all your friends. “my lecture is starting soon, i’ll go now.” you said as you stood up. taking your things with you and hearing people say their goodbyes, you were on your way.

“wait, are we just going to ignore the fact that matthew is on a date?” you could hear jiwoong ask behind you.

vi. get help

“so…” matthew said in a teasing tone as he sat across from you at the library.

“so, what?” you questioned, like you had no idea what your best friend was referring to. well, in your defence, you never knew with matthew, but you had a feeling this conversation topic started with a z and ended with hang hao. “you and hao?” he continued, just like you had anticipated, raising his eyebrows.

“what about me and zhang hao?” you continued, acting clueless in the hopes of him dropping the conversation.

“after what i saw at my birthday party and then hearing he walked you home, i hoped the two of you worked out the weird tension between you two and finally fucked” your friend blurted out in a very matthew way, like it was the most obvious conclusion to come to in the world.

“we did not!” you raised your voice a little too much as you tried to defend yourself. you got a few judging stares from the people around you who were trying to study. something you were supposed to do as well, instead of having this conversation about zhang hao. “we didn’t fuck…” you continued more quietly. there was no reason for you to lie to your best friend. not when you could use his help.

“but you were going to?” he gave you a knowing look.

“well yeah, but then taerae woke up and i panicked and i kinda kicked zhang hao out-” you started rambling. wait. “how did you know we almost fucked? did he talk to you? what did he say? does he totally hate me now?” you continued like you were going to lose your mind. and now matthew was laughing at you, trying his best to stay quiet.

“i haven’t talked to anyone, except hanbin, he’s just as convinced there’s something going on between you and hao as i am” your friend finally spoke. if only you knew what was going on between the two of you. you sighed and hit your head on the table. “what’s the problem y/n? you know, you could just text him and ask him" matthew said.

“i don’t have his number” you mumble in despair.

“what? how can you not have his number?” matthew asked, confused.

“why would i? was i supposed to ask for it when we were making out or something?” you said as you lifted your head from the table, looking at your friend who definitely didn’t need to hear any more details of that night.

matthew took his phone out of his pocket, and gave it to you after a moment. “here, take his number and text him”

vii. become friends

you were currently sitting down at a park you had agreed to meet with zhang hao. matthew was able to convince you it was better to sort things out with zhang hao sooner than later. but now that you were here, waiting for the guy, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. it was warm as summer was finally coming and you felt like you were sweating buckets. was it the weather or your nerves – you were not quite sure.

“hi, did you have to wait long?” you hear a familiar voice from your left and see zhang hao’s figure coming towards you. he waved at you while giving you a sweet smile. damn. he’s so pretty.

“oh no, not at all” you answered, trying to give the boy a smile to hide your nervousness.

“what did you want to talk about?” zhang hao said calmly as he sat down next to you. unlike the other night, now he had left much space between the two of you. he didn’t seem nervous at all, which made you feel uneasy. maybe this wasn’t as big of a deal for him as it was for you.

“at matt’s party, i’m sorry for being such a mess and dragging you into it” you decided to tell him. “i had a few too many drinks that night.” you took a look at zhang hao. he seemed surprised, maybe a little hurt as he tried to get comfortable on the bench. was that not the right thing to say? “i mean, i probably made you uncomfortable and then i rushed you out of my place when taerae woke up, it was super rude of me to-” you were starting to ramble.

“i wasn’t uncomfortable” he cut you off. he finally turned to look at you again “i wouldn’t have come in if i was.” there was the look again, making your heart beat louder on your chest. he was looking at you like he did under the streetlights, like you were the only person in the world that mattered. you wouldn’t mind getting lost in his eyes. “so don’t be too sorry, i enjoyed it as long as it lasted.” he gave you a shy smile.

oh.

this was the first time the boy had made you blush, usually it was the other way around. you broke eye contact to hide your shyness from him. “cool, cool” you started quite awkwardly. “we should probably be casual about all this, since we're friends and all…”

“we’re friends now? i’m cool with that” zhang hao replied with amusement.

“i mean, we’ve known each other long enough to call us that, i guess” you tried to reason, not realising your friend was only teasing you. as you turned your gaze back to him you saw him still smiling at you. this man will be the death of me. “well that’s that. sorry i can’t stay longer, i have places to be. bye zhang hao.” you said as you got up from the bench. you had nowhere to be, but you couldn’t possibly handle being in zhang hao’s presence any longer.

“bye friend!” he yelled after you still with a teasing tone.

viii. feel nothing

you and your new friend zhang hao have gotten along well since your talk at the park. nothing has changed that much, except now you greet each other at campus, engage in conversation together, and sometimes share memes with each other. you have tried to convince matthew that you and zhang hao are really just friends and nothing more. matthew just can’t help himself when he teases you with kissy noises every time you interact with zhang hao. he’s the only other person that knows about your little secret. even hanbin doesn’t know, because if he did — everyone would.

you were finally finished with your last class of the day, walking out of your department building. you felt at ease as everything in your life was finally going well. you were able to sort things out with zhang hao, you weren’t particularly struggling with any classes, and you were barely thinking about him, who shall not be named.

as if on cue, there he was standing a few meters away from you. jaemin. he wasn’t alone though, as he was having a conversation with someone. you couldn’t quite tell what the two were talking about, not that really even mattered to you. contrary to popular belief, your heart no longer ached at the sight of him. you continued your journey with no intent to interact with jaemin, at least not until you realised who exactly he was talking with. when you were close enough you could recognize the other man’s voice.

what was zhang hao doing with jaemin? the sight in front of you felt really odd, but you couldn’t possibly look away. zhang hao almost towered over jaemin, paying attention to what the latter was talking about. he was wearing glasses that complimented his face well. one of his sleeves was rolled up revealing his toned arm. he looked so mesmerising, you couldn't help but stare.

it didn’t take long for you to be caught staring as jaemin called out your name. “wow it’s been so long. how have you been?” he asked happily as you took a few steps closer to the two. zhang hao was surprised to see you, his gaze moving between you and jaemin. his face filled with worry made you think he must have heard about jaemin and you from someone (definitely not from hanbin). you gave zhang hao a reassuring smile as you greeted jaemin, who was ready to embrace you in a hug.

“i’ve been well” you sounded a little awkward as the two of you let go. an act that used to make your heart do backflips no longer felt like anything. “what were you two talking about? i didn’t know you even knew each other.” you asked out of curiosity as you stood next to zhang hao, who suddenly put his arm around your shoulder. you turned your head towards your friend, trying to understand what he was up to.

“we’ve shared a few classes here and there” zhang hao said as he turned his head to face you. he was so close to you again, making your heart beat louder on your chest. “you’re ready to go?” he continued. you could only show your confusion on your face as you didn’t trust your voice to say anything at the close proximity. “dinner? remember?” he gave you a wink.

what? you were completely lost. what was this man talking about?

“oooh, date night?” jaemin cooed in front of you. he took his headphones out of his back and put them over his ears. “i won't waste your time anymore then. y/n we should totally catch up sometime!” he didn’t wait for your response before he left.

you and zhang hao stayed close to each other in silence for a while. you wondered if he could hear the way your heart was beating for him. you tried to look for answers from his face but to no avail. finally, zhang hao moved and removed his hand off of you, what had felt like way too soon. “sorry” he said as he stood in front of you. “you must have felt awkward seeing him” he continued, scratching the back of his neck.

“did you do all that to get rid of him? i’m fine, i don’t like him like that anymore” you felt the need to clarify to him.

“oh” he said, blush breaking to his face and neck. “well, i was getting tired of him anyway” he excused and removed his gaze from you to hide his embarrassment. you thought he looked the cutest whenever he got shy or embarrassed.

your laugh seemed to peak his interest again, as he turned his gaze back on you. your blushing face, matching his own. a comfortable silence fell between you again. ”just friends huh?” you could hear matthew’s teasing voice in your head.

“y/n?” zhang hao eventually spoke. you hummed as a response, waiting him to carry on. “have you eaten yet?” the boy continued hesitantly.

“no, not yet” you answered truthfully, not quite sure where the conversation was going. zhang hao stayed quiet for a while. he was nervously shifting on his place, turning his face away from you once again. he was trying to find the right way to ask you.

“would you like to go out for dinner then?” he asked carefully.

“sure!” you answered enthusiastically. you were starving at this point and wouldn’t mind spending some time with friends as well. “who else is coming?”

“well, i thought it could be just us…” the boy responded, still not daring to look at you.

oh.

“oh! that works too. sure. yeah.” you replied, definitely not embarrassed that you didn’t get the hint right away. “does indian sound good to you? i’m craving butter chicken” you continued, trying to move the conversation onwards, while your heart kept beating hard against your chest.

“if that’s what you want, it’s good with me” zhang hao said and the two of you started your way out of campus, both a blushing mess.

ix. feel everything

you were not entirely sure what to think. had you just been on a date? zhang hao didn’t explicitly call it that, but it surely had felt like one. the dinner went smoothly, it didn’t feel awkward and the two of you were able to talk to each other comfortably. he constantly smiled at you and asked you questions about your life, putting the effort into getting to know you. he even insisted on paying for your meal in the end.

you got to know things about him as well, as zhang hao no longer felt shy talking to you. he’s an only child and very close with his mom. he chose to play the violin, because it’s much easier to carry around compared to a cello. him and jiwoong have gotten closer lately because jiwoong had asked him to help him with a song he has been working on. he also revealed that he was glad that the two of you have gotten closer, which made you question things even more.

you were walking to your apartment in silence, completely sober this time. zhang hao had insisted on walking you home again, “as a man should” he had said. the way his hand was accidentally brushing against yours every once in a while was giving you butterflies in your stomach. you were not entirely sure if the man next to you even realises how much of an effect he had on you. you weren’t walking that fast because you really didn’t want the night to end.

must to your dismay, you ended up in front of your apartment building. it felt like deja vu, standing in front of him again. you didn’t want zhang hao to leave, but you weren’t sure if it was appropriate to invite him in. you couldn't hide behind the confidence alcohol had given you last time. you didn't know what to say, so you settled on just staring at his face, completely mesmerised. he was doing the same, his gaze wandering on your face, like he was trying to remember each little detail of you.

“i should…” zhang hao started, now looking straight into your eyes. “i should probably go now” he continued, not at all convincing. he made no effort to move, which finally gave you the confidence to talk. it won’t hurt to ask, right?

“i could offer you a glass of water before you go” you said, tearing your gaze away, still slightly scared of what he might answer. “you know, taerae’s not home tonight…” you added. as you heard no answer from the boy, you hesitantly took a look at him. he was smiling at you again, the way he had been all dinner.

zhang hao took a step closer, raising his hand to hold your chin, making you hold eye contact with him. he lowered his gaze slowly to your lips, looking at you like you were someone to be desired. “you sure?” he finally spoke in a lower voice, still staring at your lips. you could only hum in response. and then he leaned in to kiss you.

his lips were soft, but he pushed them hard against yours. he tasted like cherries as you kissed him back. the kiss deepened quickly as his tongue pushed past your lips. his arms lowered to your hips, pulling you closer, as you put yours behind his neck, playing with his hair. you didn’t stop until you both were almost running out of air.

zhang hao let out an airy laugh. “i’ve wanted to do that for a while” he confessed, your arms still tangled around each other. he was looking at you with so much adoration.

“yeah? me too” you smiled, your cheeks slightly pink. you let go of the boy to open the door to your apartment building. he held onto your arm as the two of you walked towards the elevator. you turned to look at zhang hao, who’s cheeks were a shade of pink as well. he noticed you staring and gave you another sweet smile. the door finally opened, and he couldn’t even wait till you got to your apartment, as he stole another kiss from you as you entered the elevator.

“i honestly thought you didn’t like me at all” you admitted to him as you parted from the kiss.

“that’s what hanbin always told me” zhang hao answered, now with a pout on his lips. “i was just too shy to talk to you, you’re like the most gorgeous person i’ve ever laid my eyes on” he continued, no longer daring to look you in the eye. even he seemed a little surprised by his sudden confession.

oh.

you’ve received compliments before, but hearing one from zhang hao felt different. your cheeks heated up again, and you could feel your excitement all the way down on your stomach. you wanted him so badly, you could only wish he felt the same way. when the elevator stopped, you decided to quickly peck the boy's cheek before you dragged him to your apartment.

once the door to your apartment closed behind you, you were all over each other. his lips connected with yours as your arms roamed all over your bodies. you couldn’t get enough of him, wanting him even closer to you. you stumbled over to your bedroom, where you gave him one more kiss before backing away.

zhang hao looked at you with concern. “are you okay?” he asked while still holding you closely.

“yeah, i just- i want to make sure you want this as much i do” you answered, studying his face for any signs of regret or hesitation.

“i really like you y/n, and i want this more than you think” he admitted. he detached one of his hands from you to remove his glasses out of the way, putting them down to your nightstand. he lowered his hand on your cheek, cherishing it gently. “let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

so you let him, as you kissed him again.

x. fall in love

you were still out of breath as you cuddled up to zhang hao’s bare body. he wrapped his hand around you and squeezed you closer to him, twirling your hair with his fingers. you laid your head against his chest, drawing circles on his toned body, sighing with content. you felt zhang hao’s lips against your forehead, giving you a peck after peck. the act made you giggle, turning your gaze to him.

“what?” you asked.

“nothing, i’m just really happy” he answered, giving you one more kiss on your lips. he looked at you with so much love and warmth, which made you feel like you were dreaming. you couldn’t help but wonder what made you deserve to meet someone like zhang hao. no one has made you feel this good in such a long time, if ever. suddenly, very overwhelmed with your feelings, you hid your face on the crook of his neck.

you felt zhang hao’s chest vibrate from the laughter he let out. “cute” he whispered quietly, mostly to just himself, cherishing your head again. you got comfortable again, almost falling asleep in his embrace. his breath also evening out as he was slowly drifting away to sleep too.

“i really like you too, zhang hao” you sleepily mumbled against his skin, before the two of you fell into dreamland together.

- end

bonus:

“why do you always call me zhang hao?”

“maybe because it’s your name??”

“yes, but everyone calls me hao. you’re the only one who calls me zhang hao”

“oh”

“well, hao, i’ll call you that from now on”

the boy’s face flushed red as he finally heard you say his name.

“oh my god, you’re so cute!”

he turns his face to hide his blush from you.

“shut up”

#zb1 #zerobaseone #zhang hao #zhanghao #zb1 x reader #zb1 zhang hao #zhang hao fic #zb1 fluff #zb1 fics #zerobaseone zhang hao #zhang hao x reader #kpop #cloudbersoofic

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archie-sunshine · 4 months

Note

Hi! Hello!! It's 5am and after reading the 1.5 Driftrod chapter I couldn't help myself by showing my appreciation for it- LIKE THANK YOU!!

My mean Drift apostle- I love how you characterise him! Thank you for sharing this! (Also, amazing how they both got send to horny jail, tho I doubt it would stop Drifty from being a mean teasing b-)

Anyways, a did question did pop up- two actually. But they don't really relate to each other. Kind off?

First, what are your thoughts on Hotlock? My heart, brain and evil horny half of me aches for both sides of Rodimus and Drift so I always have double brainrot about them (-size difference. it's the size difference.)

Second, I didn't find it anywhere on your info page(or maybe it's just me being blind, apologiesif it's the case) but do you have a Ko-fi or something similar? I'm a broke uni student but I still wanted to support you in some monetary way! (Also because I totally want to commission hotlock but felt guilty by just asking without paying hhh)

Sorry for the long ass ask! 5am me is ecstatic about what they just read and future me will feel shame and pass it down to at least three generations for making a fool out of myself.

Have an amazing day and keep being great!!

So do u guys ever get an ask that leaves u kinda sittin there like this?

*ahem* anyways!! Sorry, i got very carried away drawing sketches for this ask so if this is like- super overwhelming i apologize

THANK YOU!! FOR ENJOYING THE SECRET DRIFTROD FIC!! I have a lot of thoughts about drift and his sex life and libido and personal preferences. I won't go into heavy detail(unless someone sends an ask wanting to hear about my thoughts) but i fully agree that drift has a mean streak the size of the grand canyon, but also has so much internalized guilt that he REALLY tries to not do anything about it. Rodimus is oblivious to it- until Drift eventually snaps and makes his intentions very very clear. But there were some obvious warning signs, i.e. being a very persistent sex pest and getting way too revved up from bullying rodimus with the magnetizer on.

AS FOR HOTLOCK??? I genuinely hadn't thought about it- until i read an absolutely life changing brain shattering wip from a friend of mine. AND NOW!!!??? NOW ITS IN MY BRAIN. i cannot get it out of there. LOVE hotlock, lots of thoughts on hotlock. The tension, the hatesex, two pent up freaks with the libidos of rabbits. What's not to love right? (apologies, im not the best at drawing Hot Rod idw style but i think this gets the point across yea?)

I personally find it very compelling that they would start out hating each other, and hot rod would likely continue to consider their whole relationship more of a sexually charged rivalry. but deadlock I believe would become almost animalistically possessive of hot rod. Still hating him, still savoring the thrill of hunting him for sport for the express purpose of beating the brakes off him. but uh... not wanting anything to get between that.

I like to imagine that characterization for deadlock no matter who he ends up with, BECAUSE, I also really enjoy the idea that Drift would harbour a lot of guilt and shame for that part of his life? like i personally believe Drift would try to cover up as much of deadlocks remaining character traits as possible out of guilt, pretend they arent there and that he's a much more even tempered, normal person about the relationships he's in.

Now is that possessiveness or mean streak really gone?.... I mean...

drift would probably very much like you to think so.

NOW!! about commissions, first of all holy shit thank you? what? Don't spend your money on me good god- I USED to have a ko-fi, but i have not used it in a very long time!! I really appreciate the sentiment, but especially if youre hard for cash, I'd be happy to just draw requests because i think they're fun!! so feel free to suggest whatever you'd like to see(as long as its like- one of my hyperfixations bbgfdgfds-) I personally really love making people happy with my art, so like- praise, recognition, and knowing that my work made people happy(via comments or tags or inbox messages) is like fucking crack to me. I'd love to draw driftrod/hotlock for anyone, literally anytime, bc it would make them happy :] and that would make me happy :]

Like, see? I farted this drift out in under 10 minutes and it made me so happy to draw and i went 'omg the little people in my puter are gonna love this drawing' and it brought me infinitely more joy than the 25 bucks id get as payment for it.

IF!! I do open for commissions though, i'd likely be accepting payment via my paypal in CAD, and you'd likely see me open for them on my blog if you're following me!!

I know this post is already like exorbitantly long, for which i apologize, but i do want to say you should never apologize for the enjoyment you gain from someones work!!! This ask has made me so happy!! It makes me really glad to know that someone out there who i don't even know was brought joy by my very stupid fanfic at 5am somewhere. ALSO??? the fact that someone halfway across the world from me can see and love and enjoy something I made??? THE WORLD IS BEAUTIFUL WHAT?? The connection that fandom and creation can bring is beyond description and I am glad that my work reached you. any of you. all of you. thank you anon.

(jesus christ im getting emotional in this chilis today)

[Feeling nosy? Send me an ask or request in my inbox!!!]

[full sketchpage under the cut!]

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kaihuntrr · 12 days

Text

one-year anniversary!

HI. oh my goodness can you believe its been a WHOLE YEAR (and a day, im posting this a day later OOPS-) since i started working on this au? i dont think i started working on the chapters until... the -ber months? but the general brainstorming started now and oh my GOD the amount of changes that has happened while working on this au is insane! im absolutely floored with how much people enjoy this au, and while im too busy to be posting art (im doing some personal work!) i have all the time in the world to talk about how much this means to me.

i've written things in the past, but i havent for the LIFE of me worked on such a long project such as this (we're only halfway through act one of FIVE!) and learning and growing with such wonderful betas and partner (ehehe @mewhoismyself hello there) is just so wonderful <3

SO! in order to make this anniversary special, i've decided to post a little cut/practice scene from act two! this couldnt make the cut with what the plot has in mind, but i figured itd be best to have some nice moments with scott and martyn, eh?

OH! and before i go, the next chapter will be posted a day earlier! <3 im going abroad the day after the original chapter posting date, so i need to rest. i think this back half of the fic is gonna be really something <3

anyway, i wont keep you here for longer. i hope you have a fun time reading this, just as much as my partner and i had fun writing this so many months ago <33

Martyn tried to listen as Scott rambled on about what he’d been up to, how nice it had been to see his friends again. He even tried to let the small twist of jealousy at Scott being so happy over seeing someone else wrench his attention back into the moment, but it didn’t work. The face of Pearl kept flashing in the forefront of his mind, her eyes and jagged scar glowing unnaturally under the moonlight.

“Oh, and…,” Scott continued to ramble on, but Martyn still couldn’t focus. It seemed that Scott had noticed as his voice trailed off and he looked at the blonde with a tilted head. “Martyn…?”

Martyn gave a grumbled response. His mind blocked out the world around him as he pictured brief flashes of the island, the hollow and desolate stares of the people, the wicked laugh coming from Pearl….

Scott sighed. “Martyn….”

Martyn could still feel a slight buzz in his head from where he was hit. How much blood did he lose back there? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he was glad to be alive. Glad that he was here, still breathing, like everyone else. Glad that he was–

“Martyn!”

Martyn jerked as Scott’s face was suddenly inches from his own. Scott’s lips were twisted into a pout and his eyebrows were drawn into a scowl. “Huh- sorry, what?”

Scott sighed, letting his head fall forward, “So you weren’t listening to me….”

“No!” Martyn said quickly, throwing his hands up. Panic leapt in his chest, making his heart beat faster. He didn’t want Scott to think he was ignoring him…! “No, I- I’m… I’m sorry…,” he hung his head. “I’m trying to listen- I’m not meaning to ignore you, I just….” Martyn looked down at the sand beneath him. Guilt welled up in his throat. He’d been so eager to see Scott while he was away, and before he’d gotten back, and now that he was actually here… Martyn was ignoring him. He was making Scott feel ignored.

Martyn shook his head, forcing a huge smile onto his face. “So, you said you saw your friends, right? Did you have fun-? Oh, what am I saying, you just said you had fun- haha…,” Martyn scrubbed the back of his head, then straightened up, rolling to his feet. “Hey, do you wanna go see if we can find your bird friend? I bet it’s missed you too!” He pointed towards a path leading up to the forest, “Bet he lives in there somewhere…!”

“Um- Martyn…,” Scott trailed off looking after him.

Martyn took a few steps backwards, away from Scott, and spread his arms, hoping he’d follow. “Or we can go down to the beach! It’s a nice day, it’ll feel great to splash in the water a little.”

“Martyn.”

“Or- oh, we can go see the decorations they’re setting up for the festival down in the center of town. You said you were excited right, so we can-!”

“Martyn!” Scott snapped.

Martyn stopped.

Scott took the few steps to close the distance between them, laying his hand on Martyn’s arm, then sliding it down to take his hand. He tilted his head, giving Martyn big sad eyes. “Martyn, talk to me…. What’s wrong?”

It was hard for Martyn to not crack under Scott’s gaze. “It’s just…,” he trailed off, trying to put his thoughts into words. He was just engrossed in them a second ago, but now, trying to tell Scott, he couldn’t think of what to say. “I… uh….”

“You’re alright, Martyn,” Scott rubbed his thumb over Martyn’s hand in a small, circular motion. “Take your time.”

A small pause fell over him. Martyn could hear the slow ebbs of the waves before he managed to speak. “I can’t get her out of my mind,” his voice spat with venom. Pearl’s sadistic glee, her manic grin, her ever-looming presence burned in his head. Martyn’s grip unknowingly tightened around Scott until he looked the other in the eye. His grip on Scott lessened as he looked away. “What good can I be to protect you, when I can’t defend myself from one person?”

“Who said I needed protecting?” Scott raised an eyebrow, his tone still soft but with a hint of skepticism as he leaned to the side to catch Martyn’s gaze again. He let out a weak chuckle and moved his other hand to rest on Martyn’s cheek. “Besides, you can’t protect me from everything.”

Martyn leaned into the touch, not caring how warm his cheeks felt as Scott’s delicate hand pressed into his skin, lightly grazing over the scar Pearl caused. He closed his eyes as he let out a sigh and drooped his shoulders. “But I want to…,” he muttered. He looked at Scott, his face scrunched with worry. “I don’t want you getting hurt at all, Scott.”

“There’s going to be times where I get hurt, Martyn,” Scott narrowed his eyes and withdrew his hand from Martyn’s cheek. Martyn was wide-eyed, only for Scott to hold the hunter’s other hand. “When that happens, all I’d ask is for you to help me get back on my feet.”

Martyn could feel his nerves freeze up at Scott’s warm hold. His gentle stare and concern on his face nearly caused Martyn’s heart to explode. A million things swirled in his mind as the breeze wafted over. “I can’t help it,” he lowered his head, biting his lip. “You should be protected, with all the chaos going around–”

“What chaos?” Scott cracked a smile and shook his head. He shrugged, letting go of one of Martyn’s hands as he gestured around. “All there is to see is you, me, and the beach. Nothing to worry about, right?”

Nothing to worry about for now, but so many things could happen in the blink of an eye. Martyn could practically hear the sound of the sea princes’ ringing in his ears, the one from his dreams laughing as its mouth opened wide to swallow Scott as he screamed-....

No. Martyn needed to be prepared for anything, so nothing bad could ever happen to the people he cared for. Nothing. Never again.

“I still want to fight for you,” his voice was barely a whisper in the wind, cracking a bit from the emotions that crawled up the back of his throat. But seeing Scott’s attentive look, with the slight tilt of his head, Martyn knew he could hear him. “Can I at least do that?” he pleaded. He needed to-. He needed to.

“You may,” Scott nodded, giving him a small smile. Then his eyes narrowed as a smirk crept onto his lips. “So- I’d like to see how you fight.”

Martyn opened his mouth to respond- just in time for a woosh of breath to leave him as his back hit the ground. Martyn gasped, blinking for several seconds as he tried to figure out he’d gotten laid flat out on his back… with a certain ginger pinning his shoulders to the sand.

“Yikes…,” Scott teased, his eyebrows rising, complimenting the wide grin on his face.

Martyn sputtered, his face immediately flushing beat red. “I wasn’t ready! Sneak- sneak attack…!”

Scott laid one arm across his chest, propping his other elbow on top of it and laying his cheek in his hand. “Most things will take an opportunity for a sneak attack, when presented with one.” He kicked his feet in the air, as if he was lounging on a couch reading a book.

Martyn flushed all the way to his ears. “Redo!”

Scott leaned his head down, smiling at Martyn in a way that was almost sickeningly sweet. “Are you waiting for a written invitation?”

Martyn grabbed Scott by the shoulders and surged upwards, knocking the ginger off of him. Scott laughed as he slipped his grip, ducking under one of Martyn’s arms to wrap his arms around Martyn’s torso.

Before Martyn’s brain could fully process that, Scott had rolled Martyn over top of him and planted him flat on his back again.

Working on instinct more than pre-thought, Martyn wrapped his arms around Scott’s shoulders and kicked off the sand. He knocked his thigh against Scott’s hip, bumping him off balance just enough to send them rolling over again.

But Scott didn’t end up on his back underneath Martyn.

Somehow, mid flip, he’d slithered around Martyn’s torso, ducking his arm again and getting outside of his hold. Martyn ended up with his face in the sand and a knee pressed between his shoulders, shoving him down further.

Martyn was about to push himself up with his arms, using his strength advantage to throw Scott off of him, but Martyn froze when he felt something sharp curl around his throat.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even swallow. He could barely even breathe.

Suddenly the sharp points of crescent bladed scythes were touched against his neck so delicately. Suddenly the sharp claws of a hungry beast wrapped around his throat, pricking the skin above his jugular. One wrong move and she’d slid his throat. One wrong breath and the beast would tear him to ribbons.

A figure above him bent down to whisper in his ear.

“I win!” Scott chirped brightly. He laughed as he withdrew his fingernails from where he’d curled them around Martyn’s throat. “You really do need more practice. Though I’d be happy to oblige…,” his voice turned sing-songy as he plopped back on the sand, his arms holding him up.

Martyn slowly pushed himself upwards, staring down at the sand where his face had been in utter bafflement. Why had that felt-? Why was he-? Why was his heart beating so fast? Why… did he feel like he’d just been hunted…?

“That- that uh…,” Martyn stammered, not really sure what he wanted to say. “You’re a lot better fighter than I thought you’d be.” He turned his head to look at Scott, pushing himself up so he was sitting on his knees.

“I know,” Scott smiled widely, tipping his head back and forth, “Do I impress you, Martyn?” He smiled and hummed teasingly, his eyes narrowed in a joyful satisfaction.

“Always,” he breathed, a lot more genuine and heartfelt than he’d meant to. Scott’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Martyn felt his face flush and he looked down at the sand. Well, he was in this far. “I think you’re amazing.”

“Thank you…,” Scott said with a shy little smile. A light hint of red dusted his cheeks. He looked… really nice like that.

Martyn shook his head, roughly clearing his throat. “Well um, as- as fun as this was… I was actually referring to- to my gun combat more than my hand-to-hand.”

“Uh huh,” Scott answered with a small smirk, not sounding like he believed him. “Well, maybe I could help you with that as well.”

“You know how to use a gun?” Martyn asked, more than a little shocked. How… how much did he really know about Scott?

Scott opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked to the side, then looked back at Martyn. “Noooo…?” he admitted, grinning sheepishly. He sighed, rolling his eyes a bit, “To be honest I thought you were still flirting, not that that was a serious question. And now, well… I’m just embarrassed.”

“Oh.” Martyn tried to hide his sigh of relief. It was one thing to just not know that Scott was a capable fighter -he was a tavern keeper who dealt with rowdy drunks all the time, Martyn honestly should have expected it- but it was another thing to not know that Scott was a trained gunman. For some reason they felt different. Martyn felt a grin split his face. “Would-... would you like me to teach you…?”

“Teach me what?” Scott’s eyebrows pinched together for a brief moment, then shot up towards his hairline, “How to use a gun?”

“Yeah,” Martyn grinned, “It’ll be like the time I was taught!”

“When were you taught?” Scott tilted his head.

“I think I was… seven? My parents knew I wanted to be a hunter, so they taught me,” Martyn hummed, looking out at the beach. He could remember the eagerness in his voice when he asked his parents to teach him. He only knew of the dangers through them and the people he lived around, but he knew his heart was calling out to the sea more than anything else. “I needed practice, like everyone else, but I’m a natural. A crack shot, they’d told me!” He laughed. Shooting a target from far away was much easier than fighting with swords or his bare hands.

Scott blinked, processing Martyn’s words. He slowly turned his head to Martyn, eyes widening in shock as all sense of his playfulness dropped. “You were a child when you learned how to use those?”

“Yeah…? I wanted to be a hunter, Scott, so I learned early.” Martyn looked at Scott and shrugged, feeling the ginger’s gaze on his skin felt… different. Martyn learned how to use guns to be a hunter, not to– oh. Was Scott thinking Martyn would…? Martyn shook his head and raised his hands up. “But I can’t shoot a person. A sea monster is easy because they’re big and stupid, but a person…?”

Scott had a judgemental look on his face as it scrunched up. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head on it as he sighed. “Ending a person’s life is hard, and I’m happy you haven’t shot anyone, but…,” he trailed off. Martyn leaned closer to Scott as he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think it’s a little concerning?”

“What’s concerning?”

“You learned how to shoot things, how to kill things, as a kid,” Scott looked away, gripping his arms tighter as he watched the waves flow in and out. “Every life has a purpose; from you, to me, and even the beasts in the ocean.”

Martyn narrowed his eyes. Exactly what purpose could those monsters serve? Being ocean terrors? An effective way to kill humans and destroy ships? To bring fear in the hearts of children? To kill Ren- Jimmy? Why were there monsters in the ocean? Why should there be?

“They’re monsters, Scott.” Martyn hissed, anger rising in his voice.

“They’re animals,” Scott hissed back, his face pinching into an expression that was almost pained. “They’re just animals….”

“They’re heartless, cruel, and always starving.” Martyn huffed, pulling out his gun to examine it under the sunlight. Horrible beasts. Disgusting monsters. Murderers. “They’re such horrible, unnatural beasts that every mechanic in the world works to develop better guns and weapons to kill them all.”

He didn’t fully notice the way Scott shied away from the gun in his hand. “You’re lucky you don’t need to leave the kingdom to see those ugly things,” Martyn spat.

“Ugly…,” Scott grumbled, turning his head away, like he was offended by the notion. “Well, I’m sure most of them would think the same about you.”

Martyn blinked, giving Scott a double take. Ugly…?

Scott let out a sigh as he stretched and uncurled his legs and arms to stretch out in front of him. He picked up a small handful of sand and watched it fall through his fingers. “Every life is precious, every life is running on limited time. I’m not an idiot. I know things die. But there’s no reason to cut it shorter than it needs to be. ” He smiled wistfully, tossing the rest of the sand forward. “The sea is… scary, but maybe if you had an open mind, you’d see there’s more to it than monsters.”

Martyn followed Scott’s gaze and stared. Was there anything more to them? Surely not. The fondness in Scott’s voice was hard to believe- but the man has never even seen any beast to Martyn’s knowledge. The fond tone that Scott spoke about those- those monsters with… it honestly made Martyn angry. Those monsters took away the people he cared about. The people he loved. People he cherished. Jimmy, Ren… and so many other innocent people lost their lives to the sea, Lizzie’s parents…. The ocean took all of them, and there was nothing to blame but the monsters that infested it.

“They’re monsters, nothing more than that,” he spat, emotions in his chest wrenching into a tight knot that made it hard to breathe. He swung his arm out to the side, bringing his gun up in front of his chest as he rose to his knees, almost looming over Scott. “I know what they are, Scott, and I know I’m doing all that I can to protect you and the rest of the kingdom from the beasts that would just as quickly swallow you whole as they would crush you into pieces!”

“There’s no need for you to be so hostile about it,” Scott snapped at Martyn, his eyes narrowing into a cold glare that felt like icy daggers stabbing into Martyn’s face. Scott stood up and brushed all the sand from his clothes with a sigh. “I understand.” He walked closer to the water, just enough for the waves to lap against his shoes and tightened his fist, as if preventing to lash out.

Martyn blinked. “Was I-?” he muttered to himself.

He looked out at Scott standing in the surf. He looked… sad. The guilty feeling in his chest built up once more.

All of a sudden, Martyn remembered just how happy Scott looked with his birds fluttering around him, with the canary nuzzling his palm. Oh-. Scott was an animal lover…. No wonder he-.

Martyn was messing everything up. First he’d ignored him, and he was pushing Scott away by getting angry. Martyn quickly stood up and ran across the beach towards Scott, “Oh, Scott, I’m sorry–”

Scott turned to look at him, a flat expression on his face.

Martyn felt his heart twist, “I- I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean to make you feel….”

“Upset?” Scott supplied.

“Yeah…,” Martyn bowed his head. His hand twitched out, reaching for Scott’s but giving up and retreating before he could take it. Martyn turned his head away and bit his lip. “I-... I made you-....”

Scott stepped closer and held out his hand. “No need for that, silly hunter,” he smiled sweetly. Martyn took it almost immediately, surprising them both. Scott let out a chuckle and bumped his shoulder next to Martyn’s. “I’m not mad,” Scott said softly. Martyn believed him. He looked… sad instead.

“I don’t want you to–”

“You’re just fine.” Scott assured him with a smirk. “It takes a lot more than a simple disagreement to make me actually upset. We’re okay, right?”

Martyn bashfully nodded, resulting in a wide smile from Scott. Was he… really okay? Or was he just hiding how he felt? For Martyn’s sake? Martyn hoped it was the former.

Scott put a hand on his chest, giving Martyn’s hand a small squeeze. “Just… try to keep an open mind, alright? The world can be… stranger than you might think.” He smiled a little bashfully, “I might have- a surprise or two… to share, eventually.”

“Like how you can kick my butt in hand to hand?”

Scott’s face split into a wide grin, his eyes lighting up with laughter. “Just like that.”

Martyn felt himself smiling, a laugh escaping him as he squeezed Scott’s hand. Yeah, they were okay.

#the sea prince au #sea prince chapters #limited life smp #limited life #life series #life smp #trafficblr #majorwood #mean gills #coral kids #scottyn #martyn inthelittlewood #martyn itlw #inthelittlewood #scott smajor #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname #sea prince extras

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lightlycareless · 7 months

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I dont know if im doing this right or where im supposed to send this but ✨ lol

just want some smut from naoya' s perspective bahaha 🙃

Heya anon!

Sorry I took a while to respond, I'm still not used to writing smut so it's harder for me to write it. Nonetheless, I hope you're able to enjoy what I've prepared 😈 I'm so not used to writing Naoya's perspective, I feel like he can be very... difficult to write lol He's very very mean.

Anyways, this takes part during their honeymoon (referring to this fic here hehe to my non-followers) an example of what was going on when they were away for the rest of the world.

I must say that it's not nice, it's straight up non-con explicit content. So minors, please do not interact.

Now, without further ado.... happy (as much as you can I guess lol) reading!

“What are you doing standing all the way over there, my love?” Naoya would say upon noticing your figure just by the corner of his eye, stopping his training set just to acknowledge you.

A smile parts his lips at the peculiar sight of you just standing there, silently staring at him with those big round eyes of yours he always loved to stare at, and finding it a bit humorous how you were all the way to other side of the training grounds, appearing shy to be in his presence—adorable really, as if the two hadn’t done more than enough at that point to remove all… formalities.

It doesn’t take much to put Naoya right in the mood, and your unwitting gestures would be the perfect example.

“C’mere” he orders, but even then, you don’t respond, continuing to look at him in complete silence, and perhaps… reproach?

A sentiment that Naoya catches all too quickly, pausing his amusement and replacing it with irritation.

“I said—come here.”

Your husband never liked being rough with you, outside of bed that is. It was undeserving of the one he considered to be the love of his life; but his family did well in telling him that a woman of your background needed to be heavily worked on if she was to become of his standards.

He can’t be too disappointed though, for while there was still a bit of resistance on your side, after he was done with you the first night, you’ve become much more compliant to his requests.

Just like this one, which as soon as he enunciated those words, Naoya would find you making your way to him, stopping just a few inches away—quickly closed when he decides to grasp you by the arm, swiftly pull you into his chest, and encase you with his arms.

Beaming for the closeness of his wife, a wide grin appears on his lips as he now glances down to you, hoping to get a better look of that cute face he adores—but when he notices that your gaze is anywhere but on his, his frustration returns, quickly remediated by moving his hand up to your face, grabbing your cheeks and forcing you back to him.

“Why are you so shy out of the sudden? It’s not like I bite or something.” He frowns, before chuckling. “Not that hard anyways.”

You don’t respond, rarely do as a matter of fact, but he doesn’t mind, not when he just wants to hear the sound of his voice alongside your occasional agreements.

“I missed you today, you know?” he murmurs, resting his hands just below your waist. “It’s unbearable when you’re not around—why can’t you just stay here?”

Silence. Naoya sighs. Maybe he did want a bit more than just a nod for this occasion.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he says.

You swallow.

“No” you quietly respond “Obviously not…”

“Then answer, princess. You make me feel like I’m interrogating you, you know?” He likes the chase, but now that the two are married, is there anything else to chase?

“I didn’t want to… bother you” you whisper. “You seemed busy.”

“Is that so?” He grins, undeniably pleased by your supposed consideration, ignorant to the fact that you were actually trying to look for a way to contact your family during your 2-week stay at his family ryokan, solely returning when one of the staff members blatantly lied at your face by saying that the phone was unavailable (after she used it) and rapidly redirected you back to your husband’s location.

Naoya would later hear about this but would fail to play out the appropriate consequences due to his preference of indulging in the vast, seemingly interrupted time he’d have with his wife—any wrongdoings could be dealt with back at the estate.

This was his honeymoon, after all.

“How sweet” Naoya says, pulling you impossibly closer to him—you whine at the harshness of his movement and the unwanted closeness, placing your hands over his chest in hopes to push him away, but his strength keeps you where he wants before leaning down to peck your lips. “My adorable wife looking out for me! What a lucky man I am.”

Naoya means half of those words, perhaps even lesser, given they were made in the same venomous, demeaning manner he always spoke to you. Truly, this marriage was only made with the benefit of one in mind.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not upset by your absence” he says, his hands trailing down even further, making you flinch when he stops by your ass, harshly gripping it. “How are you going to make it up to me, hm?”

Is a question that wasn’t intended to be answered, or more like you didn’t have the opportunity to do so, for he already made up his mind and was only being nice.

“Strip”

“He—here?” you breathe, frightened eyes looking up to him. Naoya notes how you don’t question his actions anymore, just the timing if anything, and this advancement makes his cock stir—truly, you’re slowly being tamed into the perfect wife. “But—but someone is going to see—"

One he just can’t wait to devour.

“It’s not like they haven’t heard us before” Naoya responds, God knows the many, many times he’s bumped into flustered servants after being done with you, clearly embarrassed for overhearing the way he ravaged you.

Doesn’t mean he’ll want them to see you like that, but he won’t deny that the thought of it did something to him, or how you can’t do anything to stop him.

Naoya insists one last time.

“Strip” And in a trembling manner, you quickly begin to undo your obi, the layers of your kimono subsequently to the ground and revealing your bare body to him, nothing underneath, just as he’d ordered you to be for easier access, even when it was cold—a sight that yet again, stir’s Naoya’s cock harder, a tent in his pants now protruding against you, desperate to seek release, instinctively rubbing it against you.

Naoya then accommodates you by turning you around, placing your back to his chest while one of his hands scurries to take a hold of one of your breasts, the other finding comfort in the hotness of your cunt.

“Na—Naoya—!” you whimper, struggling between stopping his incessant attack on your nipples, hardened and far more sensitive due to the cold weather, or the squelching sounds your pussy made as he fingered you as roughly and deeply as possible. “Naoya—st-stop!”

“Already this wet for me?” He teases as he curls his fingers inside you, making you release a louder and obscener moan from your lip, hold on his arms briefly hindering—sign that he’s found that one spot that always make you come undone, proud that he’d done so in record time; as expected from the many, many times he’s claimed you by now.

“Fuck—you just keep getting wetter and tighter—how’s that even possible?!” He laughs, finding great enjoyment in the way he’s struggling to move his fingers inside your cunt, to which you could only respond with a whimper, tightly closing your eyes and pressing your lips together to avoid releasing any more moans, failing when he attacks your sweet spot again. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?”

You attempt to shake your head in rejection, but when he graces it again, your mind goes blank, a hot jolt of pleasure washing over your body, unwittingly tightening against his fingers, making you grasp his arms for support, release soon approaching.

“I barely even touched you, and you’re already cumming?!” He says when noticing these all too familiar signs, pride filling him as he continues to tease your cunt. “I really am lucky…”

The way he begins to rut against your ass, as if seeking his own release, as well as continuously fingering your velvety walls makes you clench around his digits one last time—Naoya can feel your heartbeat quickening, your gasps becoming shorter and louder, and he just knows you’re almost there.

So, he continues moving his fingers, as quickly and roughly as possible, stretching your cunt as wide as possible before pushing them further and further, almost as if he were trying to see how far he could reach.

Your orgasm is hanging on a thread by now, the briefest of graces in your sweet spot and you’ll come undone, but it only happens when Naoya decides to toy with your clit, pressing his thumb against it and rubbing it in such painfully delicious way that finally has you cumming.

Naoya feels your walls twitching for a quick second before your orgasm finally comes clamping down on his fingers, your eyes rolling to the back, mouth falling agape, allowing moans to escape as you take in on the dizzying, numbing orgasm your husband has given you for the nth time that week. You hold onto his arms for a bit longer before going limp.

Luckily for you, Naoya was there to grab you, all whilst feeling the subtle clenches of your cunt, remnants of your sweet release. Your velvety walls milked his fingers in such a way that almost made him regret not shoving his cock instead.

However, he wouldn’t have to wait long for that, for once you eventually quieted down and overcame your orgasm, Naoya would take the next step—not without humiliating you, of course.

“Look at this!” he jested once removing his fingers from your insides, admiring the slick coating his fingers as if it were a delicacy. “It’s like you wanted them to drown or something—you vixen.”

You try your best to look away from the embarrassing sight before you, of the way they glistened against the light or how he’d play with it, as if testing it’s… texture.

It was disgusting, hot, and humiliating—but that would be nothing compared to what Naoya did next.

“And sweet too” he’d say, and then, plunges his fingers inside his mouth, savoring your flavor before grinning.

After Naoya considered you well teased, he decides to release your breast from his hold and grab your face once again to turn it towards him. It’s obvious what he wants now, given the way he licks his lips and slightly pouts, so knowing better than to fight him you move your face closer to his and kiss him.

It was always surprising to see Naoya capable of softness, tenderly moving his lips alongside yours as if he were afraid of hurting you, but of course, it wouldn’t take long before his greediness took a hold of him, tongue quickly fighting its way past your lips and into your mouth, where he’d roam as freely as he wanted, touching each and every single crevice inside, whilst giving you a combination of his taste and yours.

You instinctively winced out of disgust and the frightening way he continues to kiss you, it’s almost like he’d want to eat you alive.

Salvation only comes when air becomes scarce between the two, and with one last push, your hands finally manage to separate him from you.

It takes a moment for Naoya to come back to the present, given the way his groggy eyes (almost if drunk by your presence) stare through you, but once out of it, he kisses you one last time before continuing.

“Get on the floor” he says, placing his hands over your waist. “On four”

There’s no time for questioning, but even if you knew the arrangement between the two, you couldn’t help but protest.

“Naoya—”

“What is it now?” He rolls his eyes, tired of your seemingly incessant complaints, the two have done this thousands of times at this point, so what’s the issue now?

His aggressive response makes you quiet down for a bit, and he sees you hesitate for a bit, but he knows he doesn’t have anything to worry about, more so when the bane of your existence turned out to be something, well, silly in his own words.

“I don’t… want to get… dirty” you quietly add, and Naoya chuckles.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” he smirks “We’re only going to get dirtier from here onwards, princess. You know that, right?”

Well, if he supposes it’s such a bother to have him fuck you on the ground… he guesses he can compromise.

“I know what we can do” Naoya says after quick thinking, a position he already had in mind for a while now. “Let me see… I have to do this first—”

He doesn’t even ask for permission before he’s already grasping your left leg, hand behind your knee, and lifting it just above his arm. It’s a position that exposes your intimacy completely, rightfully startling you and having you grab his shoulders for support.

“Naoya—!” You attempt to fight against his hold, end this humiliating position before anyone incidentally barges into the training grounds, but (un)fortunately for you, the moment the nearby staff knew you were there, steered clear of the premises. “N—no! Not like this!”

Naoya doesn’t care to react, per usual, not when he knows he’s just a few moments away from entering you, already aligning his cock to your soaked slit.

“Have to do this first” he says, as if you were asking for an explanation. Well, at least your husband had the decency to somewhat prepare you for what’s to come. “Hold me”

“Wha—”

“Hold me, unless you want to fall” he urges again, desperate to get inside your sticky walls and drown in pleasure. Any other moment he would’ve not cared and just moved on, but you’re not any other person, you’re his wife, and he cares enough for you to not get hurt…

But if you don’t act fast, he’ll just might skip that over too.

“Or not—I don’t really care.”

Not like you were given much choice, because the moment he rubs against your cunt, dampening his cock, for better entrance, and begins to press past your folds and inside, you instinctively wrap your arms around your shoulders, whining as he inches deeper and deeper into your cunt, until the head finally nestles just by your cervix.

Naoya hisses, savoring the tightness and warmth of your cunt for a moment, enough to sway him away from what he was supposed to do, but he quickly composes himself, snaking his other hand underneath your right thigh, and with unparallel swiftness, pulls your body up, making you hold him even tighter.

His heart skips a bit when finding your actions to be surprisingly adorable, cooing at the intimacy in such a way that would make any man marry you on the spot.

Luckily for him, you were already his.

“Hold on tight” he breathes against your ear, giving one last adjustment to his hold on you. “Wouldn’t want you to fall.”

And then, he promptly begins to jump you over his cock, roughly slamming your hips onto his as he now seeks that pleasure he could never abstain himself from.

It’s an addiction, the way your pussy grips his cock so, so tightly, how it always seems to milk it dry, makes him never want to leave. Never want to pull away, back into the cold and lonely closure of his pants, wanting to spend all day, every day, inside the comfort of your sticky walls, instead, dreaming of the moment he’d get to be by your side and do just that.

But he guesses he’ll do with what he has, making up for his disappointment by instead fucking you in any way and place possible, just as he’d been doing since arriving to the estate, having started by the bedroom, the bathroom, the dining hall, and now… the training grounds.

His mission will always be to make a mess of you every single time, and today will not be an exception, soon finding your sensitive spot and relentlessly attacking it once again, making you whimper whenever grazing it.

“You—you like that, don’t you” Naoya snicker, getting a better hold of your ass to continue harshly plunging you against him. The tip of his cock bruises your cunt in a way that only lets you moan in response, but he wants words this time. “Answer me, princess, do you—do you like that?”

“Hmmnnngh!! N—Nnn!!” you whimper, pressing your lips as tightly as possible to avoid responding, but one particularly harsh thrust has you opening your mouth wide, releasing an obnoxiously loud moan—and you swear you could feel him grow bigger. “N—no!”

“Don’t lie to me, slut” He chastised, marking his fingers on your skin in retaliation. “I can feel you tightly clenching on my cock—So, I’ll—I’ll ask you again”

It’s evident that he isn’t thinking of anything but the warmth of your walls and the blood rushing to his cock, seeking that thread of pleasure and how to get to it fast enough—and one of his favorite to-go thing for that is your voice letting him know how much of a mess he’s making out of you.

It’s like a reward for a job well done. Your squirms, whines, moans and babbles, all stirred something inside him that pushed him to want more, and more.

He damns the day he met you but doesn’t regret it at all.

“You like that, don’t—you?” He breathes as he continues plunging deep into your core. “You were all shy, but—but this is what you wanted all along!”

“Nao—Naoya” you squirm, holding tightly against him, and your gesture puts him to the moon, confusing it with submission to his pleasure instead of embarrassment, believing you wanting to be as close to him as he makes you unravel.

And he loves it.

“Yeah—you love that, don’t you?” Naoya grins “Of course you do, I made you like that after all. I knew that once you have my cock you wouldn’t be able to let it go—!”

How he manages to swiftly thrust deep into your core with this position is something that surprises even himself, if not make proud, more so when he’s able to keep a continuous pace that was sure to make him finish soon enough.

Either way his goal is clear, and as he keeps getting closer and closer to his release, his thrust becomes sloppy, making his hold falter on you for a quick second, before regaining his momentum. It doesn’t take much longer for that familiar jolt of pleasure to invade his senses, thrusting faster into you before keeping you still, forcing you down on his cock while it twitches, and then, releases his hot seed inside you.

He groans when he feels his cock begin to fill your cunt, pushing closer to you as an attempt to reach as deep as possible and completely coat your walls—he bites his lips, resting his head against your shoulder as you can’t do anything else but hold him, eyes closed tight as you wait for him to finish.

After a few seconds of having you in this position, feeling sated for what would be the first orgasm of the day, Naoya then looks back at you. It’s only for a brief moment that his eyes lock with yours, because he’d then look at your lips, lick his, and capture them in a heated kiss to seal his high.

It’s just as intense as before, if not a bit sloppy, given the seemingly reckless way he moves alongside you, but that doesn’t stop him, going on like that, cock still inside you, for a bit longer and only leaving when the bliss of his orgasm calms down, enough to clear his mind, and the need of air proved too much to keep ignoring.

“Y/N” He breathes, unsheathing his cock from your tight walls and invertedly unplugging his seed from inside you. A drop manages to slide down your thigh, other to the ground, and the sight of it makes Naoya mad with desire.

He knows he’s given the staff more than enough evidence that he’s keeping up with his marital duties, more than enough work to clean after—and no matter how many times he’s done this, nor the incessant ways you’ve complained to him to at least keep things clean, he still gets the same rush at the first time.

It kind of saddens him to see his seed being discarded so easily, guess he has to “make up” for the spill, now.

“Y/N” He says again, almost in trance as the bliss on his eyes begins to diminish “You can do better than that, can’t you?”

His words could only signify the beginning of a long afternoon, where his cock would find it’s way back into you—and it did, various times.

The way he’d take you wouldn’t be him holding you up, he’d instead would follow through his initial request, placing you on the floor and on all fours, still indifferent of the complaints you given him, and take you from behind.

This position, while simple, was one of his favorite for he could be far more relentless, harsher if you must, and lewder too— it gave him endless possibilities, such as using his hands to knead any part of your body he could get a hold of, either from moving your hips to the pace he wanted, landing his palm on your ass, enjoying the way you’d squeal whenever his skin would touch yours, growing harder when seeing the redness forming on it.

And of course, the vulgar way his hips would sound against you, sometimes, it’s all he ever hears.

Or he’d have you ride him, letting you do all the work as he sits back, relax, and enjoys the way your tits bounce before him, occasionally raising his hands to twist and pinch your hardened nipples, or even taking them in his mouth, letting tongue do the teasing while forcing you to stay there by wrapping his arms around you, rolling your hips against him as your cunt softly clenches around his cock.

The day would only end when he’s found himself rightfully sated by spilling his seed inside you countless times, to the point where it would dribble down your legs and to the floor, such a disgusting view you opted to not look at it this point anymore, knowing well that no matter how many times you ask him to not make a further mess, he would just incite you more.

His fingers would find his way inside you, teasing and stretching your walls to give you that nauseous jolt of pleasure once more, making his seed and your slick gush when you cum and splattering on the ground.

Naoya found immense pleasure in the way his seed would slide out your hole, a satisfaction that reassured him he had officially marked you—far from any legal paper, or the acknowledgement of anyone else, this was his way to tell the world you were his.

Mark you. Scent you.

You were his woman, no one else’s.

But you never felt the same, ever, especially when you’d turn to your side, away from him gaze and begin to cry.

Naoya has seen you cry before, mainly during the act, but this time felt almost… eerie. Your tears weren’t of pleasure, overwhelmed by his gestures, and it makes him confused.

Well, at least he’s still able to admit that he doesn’t like the way you’re silently sobbing to yourself, further and further inching away from him as you do so.

Thus, your husband is quick to close the space between the two, wrapping his arms around you and ignoring the way you tense up against him before continuing.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, he couldn’t be any less invested, but he guesses he could care. You’re his wife, after all.

You don’t respond for the first insistence, nor for the second, and at this point Naoya grows a bit more concerned.

Not a whole lot, perhaps not genuinely, but he doesn’t like how you keep going on like this—it presents a hindrance to his plans, after all.

“Tell me” he persists “Why are you crying, my love?”

And you don’t know what it is that motivates you to answer, perhaps falling victim to his unusually soft words, confused by the numbing sensations he’s given you, but in between hiccups and sobs, you concede to tell him.

“I want to go home—!”

And the revelation… squeezes Naoya’s heart, forcing a smile out of him. But of course, it’s not because he feels empathy towards your feelings, nor understands what you actually mean with those words.

His twisted mindset could only perceive this as a false eagerness to start your new life with him—settle down as his wife, the future lady of the Zen’in estate, and live out the rest of your days with him.

“Aww, my love…” He says with a grin, nuzzling against your ear—you’re too deep into your emotions to even acknowledge him “We’ll be home soon—let’s enjoy this time for ourselves, without anyone else… just the two of us, ok?”

“I want—I want to go home…” you continue to say, attempting to retreat further and further into yourself but your husband simply does not allow it. He doesn’t want you to, not when your words have awoken something else in him once more…

“Just—stay like this” he says, aligning the tip of his cock onto your slit, holding you right there as he pushes past your folds and inches slowly inside you, the way your walls envelop his member is agonizingly delicious, he dares not ruin it by pushing through in one swift movement.

He was insatiable.

Naoya had just used you in all ways possible, marked you however possible.

And he still wanted more.

“Just—do this for me, my love” He breathes, hips starting to rut against you. You continue to cry. “And I’ll give you—everything. Anything you want—it’s yours.”

It wouldn’t take long before Naoya finds the right pace and focuses on solely seeking his pleasure, doing whatever he could to find that spot that always made you clench, hold onto his cock as if the mere thought of being empty was enough to drive you mad, and subsequently push him over the edge.

His hand snakes down to your clit, relentlessly rubbing and pinching the bud until you soon begin to see white, softly pleading him to stop, as you attempt to push back the inevitable—Naoya doesn’t concede, if anything, his fingers just work faster, teasing it as if it were his own personal toy and finally—makes you cum.

You whine as the familiar wave of pleasure overwhelmed your senses, softly moaning as Naoya grabs you tighter and harshly plunges against you, his member reaching the deepest part of your core and spilling his burning seed inside you.

He instinctively ruts again you a few more times, attempting to plug his cum inside you while lamenting (not so much) that some of it had managed to escape your rim, although the sight it offered was far more alluring than anything else, making his cock twitch as he continues to empty himself in you.

Naoya had long lost count of how many times he’d finished inside you, but he can say it was enough for the day. He was exhausted, possibly far more than any training could’ve given him, at least that was made up for—however, he never felt this sense of intimacy when done with his workout, quick to seek reassurance by turning you around and getting a good look at your flustered face, slightly parted lips, and teary eyes as you tried to regain your breath.

He stares at you for a few more seconds, admiring the result of his work before leaning down to kiss you.

And the gesture, perhaps an effect of his post-orgasm bliss, makes him say:

“I love you.”

Whether he knows the true meaning of those words, or not, it doesn’t really matter. It was what came out of him at that moment, what he wanted to tell you. And even if you didn’t return them, he didn’t care much for it.

Not when he had the rest of his life to hear them, countless future opportunities opening before him, for this was only the beginning of his marriage.

#ask #series side stories: first it hurts—#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you

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lillylvjy · 1 year

Text

Sunday morning (rain is falling)

A/n- hi! Another fic?! Yes! Im on a writing kick guys! Anyways this is a dad!bur fic! My first one, it just felt right in this situation. Idrk if this fic makes sense, but I liked the way I put it together when I started writing so hopefully it makes sense!! Enjoy!!

Warnings: kissing, swearing, apron joke ( the whole apron part is based of a true story 🤭) and the duos listed in the fic are only to show similarities to each other’s relationship only! Thank you:)

Also thank you @pebblebrainlovejoy for adding onto the idea of this fic. Her idea got me inspired and made my brain stew with ideas so all credits to her!❤️

Sunday. One of the best and worst days ever. Best because Wilbur usually had the day off so you and your lovely daughter, Meadow, had him all to yourselves. Worst because it was one of the only days you and Meadow had him all to yourselves.

It was hard when all he did now was make music and tour, but you made it work. He was always on time to sing Meadow a song for her bedtime or read her a book. And you guys had a little time to yourself before bed. But you’d wake up to an empty bed and a note on the kitchen counter saying how much he loved you and Meadow and how he’s going to try to make it back for dinner. ‘Never does’ you’d think. You’re never mad at him. No! You’re happy for him and proud of how much he’s accomplished. But, it gets frustrating when he’s not there for his daughters school events. Or when’s he’s not there to have a dance or tea party with them. You’ve voiced this to him before. He says after this album he’s taking off a month or two to be with you both. That felt really good to hear.

But for now! You have Sundays. And your personal favorite, late Sunday mornings. Meadow and Wilbur are usually up late doing whatever she wants to do with him on Saturday nights, so that means you all get to sleep in. Meadow is a heavy sleeper. Don’t know where she got it because neither you or Wil are heavy sleepers. But you’re thankful for it! Doesn’t wake up until 10:30-11:00 on Sundays. Perfect.

You woke up that Sunday at 10:45 to the sound of heavy rain and thunder. ‘Perfect’ you thought with a smile on your face. You stretched and felt the arms around your waist tighten.

You turned in the persons arms to be met with Wilbur’s peaceful sleeping face. He’s perfect. His face calm and content. His hair longer than it needs to be and messy. You’ve been telling him to get it cut, but his reason is: “Love I can’t just cut it! Think about how sad Meadow will be. Think about how sad I’ll be! She won’t be able to put her butterfly clips in my hair anymore.” He’d say with a pout.

You’re run your finger over his face, tracing his beauty mark by his eye, over his lip to his jawline. He was the definition of perfection. You run your hand through his hair and kiss his forehead. You see him smile and his eyes flutter open.

“Hm good morning darling.” He said while rubbing your back. His voice deep and croaky.

You smiled back at him, rubbing his head. “Good morning, how’d you sleep?” You asked him.

“Amazing. I always sleep good when I have you by my side love.” He said, kissing your face. From your jawline to your cheek. Forehead to nose. And finally your lips. You both held the kiss for a couple seconds longer. This is what you want every morning to feel like. Blissful. Content. To wake up in his arms and just admire his beauty. That’s what you loved about mornings like these.

“Well we certainly won’t be going outside today. I’m going to get up and start making breakfast before the monster wakes up.” You said, pecking his lips one last time before getting up and putting on one of Wilbur’s sweaters. It went down to your mid thigh and covered your sleep shorts.

“She is not a monster! She is our princess and we must treat her like royalty.” He said getting up, putting on a t-shirt and wrapping his arms around your neck.

“She is so spoiled because of you, you know that right?” You asked him teasingly.

“Oh yeah. I know that. And I won’t stop.” He said smirking down at you. Lifting your chin up and kissing you. Soft and full of love. The best kiss of all. “Also you maybe want to look at your hair. It looks like a raccoons house.” He said looking at your hair.

You scoffed and smacked him in the shoulder and told him to shut up and help make breakfast. You didn’t even try to fix your hair. It was Sunday morning. Who cared!

You both decided to make waffles, eggs and bacon. You did the eggs and bacon, while Wilbur did the waffles. He was making plain, chocolate chip, and blueberry. Chocolate chip for Meadow and blueberry for you and Wilbur. The plain was for whoever wanted more. You decided on the easier and safest route, scrambled eggs.

Wilbur was wearing an apron that was gifted to him by your sister for his birthday this year. The front of it says “DILF” and underneath it states “Devoted. Involved. Loving. Father.” Yeah not the most appropriate thing to have in front of your daughter. One time we were out with a bunch of friends and we decided to take Meadow with us so she could see everyone. Her and Tommy were messing around and Tommy started to call Wilbur not so nice names in front of Meadow. Don’t worry, they were all sanitary names but still names you shouldn’t be saying in front of a 5 year old. You could tell Meadow was getting a little bit upset of the names Tommy was saying, but she couldn’t think of anything! Then, she remembered the saying on the apron. “No! Daddy’s not a retard, he’s a DILF.” She said with so much confidence.

When I tell you everyone went silent and looked at her, I mean everyone did. Tommy started bursting out laughing and everyone else followed. Wilbur’s face was so red as he hid his face in his hands. You had the biggest grin on your face. “That’s right sweetheart, he is! What does it stand for my love?” You asked as you picked her up and walked her back over towards where you and Wilbur were sitting. Wilbur looked at Meadow, waiting patiently for her reply like everyone else.

“Hmmm. Devoted… Involved…. Loving. Father!” She said happily while looking at you.

“That’s right darling!” You said giving her a kiss on her cheek. Everyone smiled at the two of you as Wilbur went around the table to the both of you and took Meadow out of your arms.

“Princess. Let’s maybe not say that in front of people other than me and mommy or grandma unless they know what that means ok?” He asked your daughter, kissing her hand.

“Mhm. Was the thing I said bad?” She said looking at Wilbur worried.

“No darling! Just DILF means two things. And the one you said barely anyone knows except me and mommy. So just be careful ok. I’m not mad at you baby. Pinky promise.” He said, putting his pinky out. Your daughter smiled and linked fingers with him.

Since then, she hasn’t said anything about it unless it’s with you and Wilbur. He loves it. Loves how she remembered what it means and knows what it means. Lets him know that she knows he loves her with his whole heart.

Wilbur walks into the living room and opens his backpack. He grabs his speaker and connects his phone to it. He puts on a random playlist and the first song to play is ‘Sunday Morning’ by Maroon 5. You recognize the song by the first couple seconds. It was your sisters favorite song when you were going to high school together and you drove to school together. You barely knew the songs but the catchy tune was hard to forget when you have amazing memories with it.

While you were making sure the eggs were done, Wilbur pulls you away from the eggs and spins you around to look at him. “Wil no! The foods going to burn!” You whined looking at the food.

Wilbur turned your head back to look at him. “Can’t I dance with my love?” He asked you with a shit-eating grin on his face. You roll your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck and you step on his feet.

“You’re leading. Like always.” You said looking into his eyes. This is nothing new. You do this anytime you can. 2 am on a Thursday when Wilbur is up writing music. Or 9 pm when Meadow is getting ready for bed and you guys have a couple minutes by yourselves.

As the music plays, Wilbur tries humming to it but fails to the fact of not knowing the lyrics at all. You smile up at him and laugh. You wish you could stay here. Here in this moment forever. This moment filled with longing, loving, and happiness.

Wilbur furrows his eyebrows and giggles. “What’s so funny huh?” He asked you.

You smiled and shook your head. “Nothing. I just love you. A lot.” You sigh. “I wish you were home more, we miss you a lot during the week. Sometimes I need you for help on her homework. I forgot half the shit they teach in school. You also miss a lot of fun dance parties. And family cuddles. The list goes on and on. Not trying to make you feel jealous or guilty. Just telling you all the things you could be having Wil.” You said, looking at him with a weak smile on your face.

He sighed and rest forehead on yours. “Two more weeks love. Then I’m done. I promise. Then you’ll have me for as long as you want. I have two and a half months off to be here with you and Meadow. We’ll do everything we can in that time. Go to America and visit your parents and sister? Sure why not! Go to France and see the Eiffel tower again but this time with Meadow and tell her all the stories? My dying wish. I want to do everything with my two girls. But wait just a little longer, darling. It’ll be worth it.” He said, kissing your forehead.

You smiled up at him and kissed him. The kiss was slow and passionate. The song was slowly ending in the background and a new song quickly came on. ‘Put your records on’ by Corinne Bailey Rae started playing as you both pulled away.

“One. Ew. Why in the middle of the kitchen too?! That’s just gross! And two! Where’s my dance daddy?!” You both turned to look at Meadow. Her bed head everywhere, her curls tangled with each others and made knots that’d be impossible to get out. ‘Hm. Reminds me of someone.’ You thought and looked at Wilbur’s hair who had the same situation going for him.

Wilbur let go of you and let you go save the food that surprisingly wasn’t burnt. He went over to Meadow, grabbed her from under her arms and twirled her around while placing her into his hip. He kissed her cheek a million times and tickled her stomach. They were both laughing and giggling with happiness. You turned around and smiled at the scene. He’s so good with her. Well you knew from the first day you found out you were pregnant, you knew he was going to be an amazing father. But this is different. They’re partners- in-crime. Batman and Robin. April and Ron. Jim and Pam. You can’t separate them. They compliment each other. They love each other. And you wouldn’t think about separating them in a million years.

“You want to dance then?” He asked her with a smile on his face.

“Yes! I want to dance with daddy!” He smiles and lets her hold onto his fingers. She smiles that bright big smile of hers as Wilbur starts singing the song. You’re just smiling at the scene in front of you. Not worried about the food or anything else. It was just the three of you.

“Mommy! Come on!” Meadow giggles at you, grabbing your attention.

You see Wilbur’s free arm opened up and his hand waves you to go over there. Meadows hand does the same.

“I’m coming my loves.” You said cleaning your hands.

You walked over to them both and wrap your arm around Wilbur’s waist and hold onto Meadow’s hand as Wilbur sways you three back and forth.

This. This is perfect.

This is home.

Taglist: @deadphantomsociety (if you want to be added here, message me:)

#Wilbur soot #wilbur x y/n #wilbur dream smp #wilbur soot imagine #dsmp wilbur #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur mcyt #wilburfromlvjy #x reader #lilly writes

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amethystfairy1 · 4 months

Note

hello internet stranger,

i am in love. you've infected both me and my sister with your brainrot and captivating fics, we've talked about it non-stop the past few days, so naturally we have some questions.

But first, i want to ask what your boundaries are w/ fanart and writing. i've already drawn a couple pieces, are you alright with me posting them, and what should i tag them with? Also, i'm feeling very inspired to write more zed and tango for the travelling thieves au, is that alright if i take your ideas and just yoink them? Im not planning to post whatever i write at this point :P

anyways, moving on, i have a few world-building questions for you, starting w/ traveling thieves:

how does the mercenary guild and hits system work? Can anyone put a hit out on anyone, or do they have to be a wanted criminal? also, how does gem choose her targets? i like to believe she has some sort of moral compass in picking, but knowing the world they live in, i can't be certain

this is less of a question, but i don't see how the world can be resolved. For ttsbc, the obvious solution to the undercity folk living freely is that they overthrow the overcity government or just remove the laws keeping them banned. Sure, it'd be difficult, but from what we've seen, most people don't actually have strong prejudices against the undercity, they just vaguely believe they're evil, which can be very easily disproved. For traveling thieves, it's completely different, because not only is the discrimination in the government, it's in the people themselves; merely changing the laws would not change how people see hybrids, so how can that be fixed? My best solution to them all getting a happy ending is that they run away and found their own civilization where all hybrids can be free, but it doesnt seem like a likely scenario

again, not really a question, but I'm so so so happy in the latest fh piece that they looted the bodies of their attackers. the first time i read it through, i was practically screaming at the screen, telling them to grab the loot and weapons before they continued

next, ttsbc:

4. how do the mobs work? do they act like any normal animal, in that they just kinda exist and happen to be very hostile, or do they follow minecraft mob mechanics and spawn into existence from nothing when the conditions are right? could they theoretically all be exterminated? do all of them dislike light, like the zombies in the cleo bdubs fic? if they do, why are they making their way to the overcity?

5. how did the undercity become a thing? Was it just always there, or was it manmade? did hybrids and mutants always live underground? are the pits really bottomless? and if so, is the world a globe, or is it flat? i understand you might not have thought very deeply about these things before jumping in, but my sister and i were theorizing about different answers. i figured the undercity isnt manmade just like the grand canyon isnt manmade, it just came about through natural processes, and mutants and hybrids just evolved(?) seperately from humans, underground, which is a whole other can of worms with the science behind that. an idea about the "bottomless" pits has to do with physics. at the center of the earth (if it were hollow), you wouldn't feel gravity because it would pull on you equally in all directions. so maybe the bottomless pit really just leads to the center of the earth, and you're not really falling forever, you're just suspended in the center forever lol. not falling, but not hitting the bottom, either

anyways, this was a really long ask (i hope thats ok), and i still have more to say, but i'll leave it there for now. again, i love the angst, and have a wonderful day. im gonna try to get some work done, but it probs wont happen with all the brainrot XD

Hello hello! ✨

I'm so honored that you and your sister are enjoying my AUs and fics so much! That you've been talking about them and theorizing over them is so awesome to hear! Knowing that they've become something fueling discussion is super cool!

I LOVE IT ALL! Fanart/fanworks/fanfic I wanna see all of it! I would absolutely love it if you would post your fanart! Please use either the (#traveling thieves au) or (#through the sky blue cracks) depending on which AU it is for and mention me in the post (@amethystfairy1) so I can see it! And of course you are welcome to write fics based in my AU or using my characterizations, in fact I'd love it if you did! It's the best thing to hear that my writing has inspired someone else to get creative! I know you said you had no intentions of posting it, but if you ever do, please use the same hashtags here if on tumblr, or if you use A03 list the appropriate fic/series as inspiration and please credit me in the notes if you don't mind! I'm looking forward to seeing anything either fanart/fanfic related that you've created!

ONTO THE QUESTIONS 🏃‍♀️

The mercenary guild is basically like the underground/illegal version of the adventurer guild, and they'll take any jobs that the adventurer guild won't. Blackmail, assassination, smuggling, you name it. Gem has something of a moral compass, but it isn't exactly the strictest thing in the world. We learn when she meets Mumbo in Grian's wing preening fic that she is on her way to assassinate a noblemans son, and while that is a bit of a wink wink nudge nudge if you can figure out who that son is, exactly, it's still Gem agreeing to kill a teenager who is guilty of little more than pissing off the wrong person. Cruel world and all.

Perhaps that's exactly point? 😌 With Traveling Thieves, I did not set out to make a world that could be resolved or escaped from...the whole point is that it is cruel and inescapable, and the best you can do is continue to protect yourself and those you care about...and even then, you might fail to do that. You might be set up to fail in a sick system that would never give you a chance in the first place. And the best you can do is try to put the pieces back together in the aftermath. I don't want Traveling Thieves to resolve in any traditional sense of the word...for where that'll lead all our various characters, well, you'll have to wait and see. 🤔

Loot that body LOOT THAT BODY NOW 💃

They're like your typical minecraft mobs, they spawn in places with low light levels! We've also got some homebrew monsters that I've come up with, such as the bird-men, that we will be meeting as time goes on. Certain monsters such as zombies do avoid light, but there are plenty of monsters will go above bedrock just like certain monsters in minecraft can survive in the sun, like creepers and endermen. No, they can never be exterminated because of how they spawn!

The pits aren't bottomless, we've seen the bottom after all, where Pearl, Jimmy, and Grian were in the Depths! It is a natural chasm beneath the bedrock, and the various caves and tunnels stretch are incredibly huge and diverse, so while everything connects back to the main cavern of the under-city that's so huge, there are also other caves and tunnels where other groups live that we will be learning about eventually, such as the blaze-born pyres or where Cub is from in the Deep Dark!

It is completely totally 100% ok! I love getting long asks like this that give me the chance to develop and worldbuild the AUs and mention some details that might never really show up within the fics themselves! So by all means send more questions and thoughts! And I'd also love to see the fanarts you mentioned if you still are up to posting them, I can't draw so anything anyone draws that has anything to do with my AUs makes me incredibly happy! 😆

Thanks so much for coming by! 💖

#traveling thieves au #through the sky blue cracks #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #hermitcraft #traffic smp #worldbuilding #life series #hermitshipping #trafficshipping #empires smp #pearlescentmoon #grian #jimmy solidarity #cubfan135 #flower husbands #scott smajor

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happi-tree · 7 months

Text

kiss me on the sidewalk (take away the pain)

Taylor’s dealt with enough of this tragic angst bullshit for a lifetime.

So when he hears a large thump behind him and whirls around to see Lincoln Li-Wilson collapsed on the cracked sidewalk and bleeding profusely with no healers in sight, Taylor doesn’t quite believe what he’s seeing, because this is not how things are supposed to go.

Or: Lincoln takes a hit for Taylor, and Taylor is left alone to hold his friend together until help arrives.

ao3

Hi, guys, new dndads fic! Wanted to get this one out before the episode drops and just barely made it in time. Enjoy some swiftli hurt/comfort!

Being the main character is not all it’s cracked up to be, sometimes.

Sometimes, you grow up never knowing your dad, but it’s all super cool because he abandoned you erased your memories of him for the plot left to protect you. Just another reason why it makes sense that Taylor Swift is the chosen one.

Well, not the Chosen One, but Taylor and his friends chose this for themselves (since nobody else was getting shit done), and he kind of thinks that’s cooler.

Anyway. Taylor is the main character of this story (because fuck Normal, real life is anime if he has anything to say about it), and he has plenty of tragedy that enables him to back this theory up.

Taylor’s nearly died a handful of times - to the point where he’s literally had his head severed from his body. He’s watched his father get cut in half, and most recently, his mom lost nearly her whole arm since he let his arch-nemesis (Willy, that fucker) get too close.

The point is, Taylor’s seen enough jacked-up shit at this point, and he can just feel the way that they’re nearly through with their quest. All that’s left, really, is to put the Big Bad in his place (six feet under, of course) and then they can timeskip to where he and his friends are all older and happy and maybe some of them are dating or married or have kids and they all meet up for dinner and drinks once a month.

Taylor’s dealt with enough of this tragic angst bullshit for a lifetime.

Golden strands of magic arc like lightning from Link’s outstretched hand toward one of the two dozen or so Doodlerized assailants that Willy decided to sic on them, and Taylor keeps its phoenix-bright comet-tail in his peripheral vision.

Just looking at Link’s light directly is enough to blind Taylor, he’s found, sprinting forward with a silent casting of Zephyr Strike as the spell goes wide.

Heh. Looks like Taylor’s newfound foe is too disoriented to prepare themself.

With two quick flashes of his blade, another body drops to the ground.

Taylor quickly divests the corpse of its gun and wills his hands to stop shaking as he flicks the safety on and pockets the weapon, turning on his heel and running back for his friend.

“H-hey, you got ‘im,” Link says weakly as Taylor kneels down in front of him. “Good job.”

“Thanks. Fuck,” Taylor says, with feeling, as he wracks his brain for any information from the countless survivalist’s first aid books he’s read over the years and coming up short because there is so much blood. Because there is a veritable puddle of red blooming around Link, and his jersey is absolutely soaked in crimson, and this really, really doesn’t look good.

Link needs Normal. Sparrow. Some sort of healer. Right fucking now.

This is bad, this is so, so bad.

“Norm!” Taylor yells, really wishing that he had the Message spell or a goddamn cell phone right now. “We could really use some heals over here, man!”

No response, which is typical, seeing as how Normal and Scary appear to be entangled with fending off their own Doodlerized opponents, and the various father figures and Dood are similarly occupied. They’re also all on the far reaches of the mall parking lot, which is, you know, par for the course at this point.

Of course having a nice, regular time introducing Dood to the concept of the teenage mall hangout would go disastrously wrong. Because clearly it was getting too slice-of-life-y in here.

Of-fucking-course.

Link inhales sharply, and Taylor’s attention snaps back to him. Link’s trying to apply pressure to the wound, hands clasped over a spot on his side and desperately attempting to keep the blood inside his body where it belongs. Taylor feels a little nauseous when he realizes his friend’s long fingers are covered in the stuff, partially-coagulated bits of his own gore caking his fingernails, smeared across his knuckles, still leaking through his hands and adding to the dark pool beneath him. The air smells suffocatingly like warm metal.

Taylor slings his go bag off his shoulder, tears through its contents until he finds a wad of medical gauze (not nearly heavy-duty enough to be effective against this, Taylor really should’ve stocked up on better supplies ages ago when they started this saving-the-world shit, but at least it’s better than nothing), and leans over his friend. “Hey,” he says, voice sharp and clipped in a way Taylor himself hardly recognizes, “let me.”

He pries one of Link’s hands away just enough to fit the whole roll of white fabric, places his hand on top of it, unfolds it a little bit to cover as much of the bullet wound as he can. He presses down hard (perhaps a bit too hard, if the way Link grunts is any indication).

“Sorry,” Taylor mutters, because he is, because it’s all he feels like he’s been saying lately.

Sorry Willy fucked with your head, Scary. Sorry I didn’t protect you enough, Mom.

Sorry you’re bleeding out and it’s all my fault because I haven’t been fast enough, smart enough, vigilant enough, anything enough.

“You can move your hands out of the way now, I’ve got it,” Taylor says, attempting to dull the spike-sharpened edge of his voice into something soft and steady with minimal success.

One of Link’s sticky hands rests limply atop Taylor’s as the other falls to the side, and Taylor kind of wants to throw up.

The hand atop Taylor’s strokes gently across the back of his hand. It leaves a messy streak of red on his paler skin.

“Hey,” Link murmurs, “It’s gonna be okay, right? You’re gonna be okay.”

Taylor’s gaze lifts to Link’s face incredulously because in what world is this okay, and his friend’s eyes - he can’t tell if they’re misting with unshed tears or if they’re fogging over, but something is clouding those honey-syrup irises and neither of the options are good at all.

Taylor presses down a little harder, just to hear Link’s breath hitch again, just to watch the way his vision seems to clear for the briefest of moments.

“Link, stay with me, man,” he commands - though this voice feels too rough and wild and wobbly to carry any sort of authority. “Just stay with me, just hang on, just stay awake, please, I can’t -”

“I will,” Link replies, wheezing a little. “I’ll - ‘ll try my best. C-can I lay down, though?”

“Yeah, dude, of course,” Taylor murmurs, trying to gesture with his head rather than his hands before giving up and saying “Put your head on my lap, okay?”

Link complies, though not without a few awkward adjustments and grunts of pain, and Taylor tries to mentally steel himself for waiting until help arrives.

God. This was supposed to just be a chill day where they could all act their age for once, let their eyes adjust to the yellow-sun-daylight, not have to worry as much about the impending threat looming over their heads.

And now, his best friend is lying atop him, bleeding out, probably minutes away from dying, and Taylor can’t do anything about it.

It’s not fair, he thinks. This isn’t even the final battle, not even a mini-boss! This is just some monster-of-the-week type of shit and now Link is dying and Taylor feels like something’s deeply broken in him, too, spilling out and slipping through every crack and crevice, gross and ugly and terrifying and they’re not even eighteen yet, not even adults, and Link is so kind and brave and loyal and strong and steady and protective and stupidly, stupidly self-sacrificial, and -

Link’s breathing is far too shallow for Taylor’s liking, or maybe that’s just the sound of his own lungs rapidly filling and deflating in his ears as he tries to think of anything to say to keep his friend awake.

Taylor’s unmoored, unsteady, adrift without Link by his side, and god, why did he let himself get this attached if all people are ever going to do is leave him, and he doesn’t want Link to die, not when he’s made Taylor’s life better in every conceivable way, and -

Taylor jolts at the feeling of something grimy and sticky and slightly clammy against his cheek.

He looks down, and Link’s clearly trying to maintain focus through the pain as he wipes some moisture off his face with his thumb.

“Hey,” Link says, soft concern made jagged by the blood attempting to seep through the gauze, between the gaps in Taylor’s fingers.

“Hey,” Taylor repeats back, helplessly, blinking away hot tears as fast as he can because blinking means not looking at Link and, god, he hadn’t even realized he was crying until now. It comes out with a wheeze, like the syllable was punched out of him, and then with a gasp, and then another, and then another, and Taylor can feel his chest constricting and fuck, how is he supposed to be any use to his friend when he can’t even breathe right?

“No, no, no, Tay, don’t - ah - cry for me,” Link says, unsteadily and ragged and so unlike the Link Taylor knows, except it’s exactly like the Link he knows, because providing reassurance is, for some goddamn reason, a priority for him even when he’s bleeding out onto the concrete and asphalt.

Taylor shudders at Link’s touch and his chest heaves as he tries to force air into his lungs, leaning into the hand that still lingers at his cheek and hoping that the wordless (undeserved) gratitude comes across.

Link is cupping the side of his face insistently, fingers brushing gently beneath his eye, up his cheekbone, tucking stringy hair behind the shell of his ear, almost as if he’s trying to memorize as much as he can by feel, immortalize his bone structure and acne scars in his mind before its gears stop turning completely. The thought rips a hole through Taylor’s chest, causes his eyes to well up with moisture and for frustrated, shame-hot rivers to wind down his cheeks.

“You’re… really adorable when you’re all -ah - pouty and frustrated, y’know,” Link says, a hazy, dreamlike quality entering his tone, and oh, no, Taylor does not like what that implies. “Not l-like this, though, I don’t like seeing you cry like this.”

“Well, don’t get yourself hurt like this, asshole!” Taylor snaps back, because really, the nerve of this guy to be dying on him and then complaining about seeing him sad.

“I had to,” Link says, gravely, simply. “I saw that guy take aim at you, and it - ah - was, it was you or me. Easy choice,” He finishes, and he has the absolute audacity to smile the slightest bit, lips turning up at the corners weakly.

“You’re a healer!” Taylor yells, face blotchy with tears and frustration. “You could’ve just healed me! I would’ve been fine!”

Taylor, not for the first time in this adventure, wishes desperately that whatever powers are at play would have granted him some magic that was actually useful, healing and wonderful and holy like Normal’s or Link’s or, hell, even powerful and dark like Scary’s, instead of just cheap party tricks that help him run away and hide.

It’s not fair that Taylor can’t give Link what the other boy has given him many times over. It’s not fair that the world feels like it’s standing still, timed to Link’s uneven breaths, and it’s something that he can’t outrun, can’t make disappear.

“Oh,” Link breathes, “Ha - ah - got me there.”

Taylor presses his hands firmly against Link’s wound, because he has to be good for this one mundane thing, at the very least, has to be of some use, somehow, sets his jaw and grits his teeth against the shame burning white-hot with infernal hellfire behind his eyes.

“I,” Link croaks, “I didn’t really think about it, then, ah, I just. Moved.” There’s a sound that sounds like a frankly awful mix between a chuckle and a wince, and then he says “Guess you do crazy things when you’re in l-”

He trails off halfway through his sentence, eyes becoming blearily unfocused as he looks to the side.

“Link,” Taylor prompts, because whatever feverish statement Link had been about to make feels important, for some reason.

“Link,” Taylor says again, louder, and is met with no response.

“Hey, Link, Link, Lincoln, come on, this isn’t funny, listen to me, damnit!” Taylor can barely hear the sound of his own voice over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, because Link can’t be dead, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

He almost wants to shake him, but he can’t because that would mean taking pressure off the wound and that’s something that Taylor cannot risk when Link’s chest is (thankfully, blessedly) still rising and falling. But maybe not for much longer.

“I can’t lose you,” Taylor sobs, already past hysterical and bordering on flat-out manic. “Lincoln, please.”

“I - uh,” Link says, kind of unintelligibly, but it’s Link and he’s lucid enough to try to speak and Taylor’s crying even harder out of relief.

“S-orry,” Link manages, turning to look at him, “ah - kinda got lost in thought there. Y’were saying?”

“Fuck you, man,” Taylor hisses, emphatically. “I thought you died!”

“Sorry, just - can I kiss you?” Link asks suddenly, eyes wide.

“What the f- now?” Taylor blurts in response, because truly, where the fuck was this coming from?

Link makes a little laughing sound that turns into a wheeze that’s punctuated by more warm blood spurting against the gauze Taylor is pressing to his friend’s side.

“We’re married,” Link says as Taylor splutters, rapidly trying to get his mind to wrap around any of this. “It’s not that c-crazy, ah, of an ask.”

“It kind of is when you’re bleeding to death!” Taylor exclaims, his voice heightening to a near-hysterical pitch.

“You don't - ah - have you if you don’t want to,” Link says in a tone that is probably supposed to be reassuring but absolutely nothing about this situation is remotely close. “I just thought it - it might help. Distract. From the - uh, pain? And I… I kinda miss it.”

Oh. It’d never occurred to Taylor that Link being previously married meant he’s technically kissed someone before. Kissed them often enough, enjoyed it often enough to long for it.

His stomach twists oddly at the concept.

Taylor’s never really… thought about what it would be like to kiss someone. Beyond the abstract, of course. He doesn’t even know if he’d like it.

But, as far as first kisses go, sharing it with his best friend sounds… almost nice, if it weren’t for this entire ordeal.

And if Link wants this - if it’ll help keep him here, keep him present, give him something to feel beyond the agony he’s surely suffering and keep his mind off the pain - well. Taylor would be a pretty shitty right hand man to deny him that.

“Okay,” Taylor says shakily.

“Really?” He can’t tear his eyes away from Link’s face - partly because of the strange dichotomy of awe and agony that paint his features, and partly because he’s afraid of looking down and seeing nothing but red.

“Yeah, if you think it’ll help,” Taylor hears himself respond. “If it’s what you need.”

“It is,” Link says simply.

If Taylor doesn’t look down at the blood staining them both, he can almost imagine the adrenaline pulsing through his veins is for an entirely different reason. He can imagine Link is in his lap because he wants to be there, and that the hand still resting on his cheek is a sign of affection and not just his best friend desperately clinging to his warmth for comfort, and that the way his eyes are glossed over are from desire and not from excruciating pain.

“Okay, I’ve, uh, never done this-“ Taylor starts to say, because of course stupid teenage nerves get the better of him when his closest friend is dying in his arms.

“I’m sure you’ll - ah - you’ll be great,” Link says, features softening briefly before screwing up in pain.

Okay. Taylor can do this. Link needs him.

“Just, uh, tap out if you lose too much air, ‘kay? Don’t wanna fuck up your breathing.”

“Mm,” Link hums, straining a bit to lean up toward him.

Taylor leans in the rest of the way.

Kissing Link is… well, it isn’t great. The angle is awkward so that Taylor can keep attempting to staunch the bleeding, and his lips are chapped and probably bitten raw from anxious habit, and Taylor can’t really do anything about either of those things. The kiss tastes salty with their sweat and Taylor’s tears and gritty with the grime from the ongoing combat, and Taylor can’t bring himself to close his eyes for fear of Link slipping away.

But he can feel the way Link’s smiling slightly against his mouth, so Taylor guesses he’s doing something right.

The hand that had previously rested on Taylor’s cheek comes around to cradle the nape of his neck, fingers gently tangling in battle-mussed black hair. The action has Taylor making a frankly embarrassing noise high in the back of his throat, and Link’s smile grows as he pulls him in impossibly closer. Taylor is pliant and trusting in his friend’s trembling grasp, letting Link guide them both because the boy beneath him clearly has more experience and Taylor frankly has no idea what he’s doing.

Taylor longs to reciprocate in every way he can, to rest a supporting hand between Link’s shoulder blades, to weave another in Link’s soft-looking curls, to make this kiss better for Link, because Link is good in a way that Taylor can never hope to be and he deserves all the love and affection and passion in the world.

As it is, though, Taylor has to be content with pressing his palms against blood-soaked gauze and hoping he can make this up to him if they get out of this mess.

He funnels every emotion he can into all of the points where their bodies connect, a swirling concoction of terror and adoration and desperation and loyalty and affection. And there’s more than a little confusion that seeps through, because Taylor hadn’t thought about kissing Link before, but at the present moment, with Link’s full lips moving tenderly against his, it’s suddenly all Taylor can think about. And maybe he’d like to do this again, under better circumstances, to pull Link in close and give back the attention and care and devotion he’s always given him. If Link wanted to, of course. And suddenly, Taylor finds himself hoping that Link would want to, because Link is lovely and protective and kind and awkward and endearing and so, so beautiful, and -

Oh.

Taylor’s always felt strongly for his best friend, but now, on the cracked curb of a mall parking lot with the sounds of battle fading to a dull roar around them - now, with Link’s blood on his hands and Link’s fingers in his hair and Link’s mouth against his own - Taylor thinks that maybe those feelings run far deeper than he previously thought.

There’s nothing Taylor can do about the thoughts raging like wildfires in his brain. He can’t run or hide from them if he tried - he can only hold this boy’s life in his hands and stay with him, hoping that he has the strength to do the same. Taylor tries his damndest to speak without words, every insistent press of lips a chorus of stay, I’m not leaving, don’t go where I can’t follow, I need you here, I want you here, stay awake, stay with me, don’t leave, I’m here, stay, stay, stay.

And maybe it’s selfish of Taylor, but it’s true. If he has one more thing ripped out from underneath him, he thinks it might break him.

Link pulls away, and Taylor lets him. His best friend’s breaths flutter against his skin in uneven pants, and Taylor’s heart beats frantically as he searches his face for any discomfort.

Taylor watches as Link’s eyes open, a soft smile pulling at his lips, and Taylor breathes out a sigh of relief. Link’s hands have migrated to latch around the back of Taylor’s neck and he leans into him, seeking out the comfort of Taylor’s warmth.

(Taylor’s muscles strain in protest and the near-constant ache in his body intensifies, but he doesn’t mind. Not when it might be the last chance he ever has for Link to lean against him like this.)

“Thanks,” Link says, and his voice is raspy and so, so small, and god, Taylor just wants to hold him close forever, to shield and guard him like Link has always done for him, to ensure nothing like this ever happens again.

Link’s eyes haven’t left his since the moment they broke apart, and while the fogginess in them is a bit worrisome, his dopey little smile is enough to soothe the worst of Taylor’s anxieties.

“I’ve - mm - I’ve wanted to do that. For a while. A long time,” Link murmurs haltingly, still looking at Taylor as if transfixed, as if Taylor’s the only thing that matters, and Taylor feels unanchored from reality.

Who gave his friend the right to look at him like he’s his personal salvation? Who gave him the absolute nerve to only bring this up as he’s actively dying? Was Link just going to hold this inside himself forever, and would Taylor never have known otherwise?

A spark of indignation alights in the hellfire of Taylor’s chest, and he looks down at his friend, watches as Link’s lazy smile fades.

Good.

“What the fuck?” Taylor exclaims, seething more than a little.

Link hisses a little, flinching, and Taylor quickly attempts to cool the demonic heat seeping through his skin.

“Why didn’t you ask before?” He says, trying to take a bit of the edge off his voice.

Link looks like he wants to say something, but he moves a little too much and the gauze at Link’s side blooms with even more red, so all that comes out is a small, pained noise.

“You know what?” Taylor says firmly. “It doesn’t matter, because you are so, so stupid.”

Link wheezes in protest, and Taylor shakes his head, furrowing his brows - let me finish.

“When -” Taylor starts, “not if, when - we get out of this, I’m going to kiss the shit out of you for as long as you want. I’m gonna make you forget your own goddamn name if that’s what you want. Got that?”

Link’s eyes are a little less clouded now, and he smiles so wide that his dimples show.

(Taylor decides that he’s going to kiss those later.)

“Mmmm. I’d like that,” Link says, voice soft and fond, and Taylor isn’t sure whether he wants to laugh or cry.

Taylor’s body can’t seem to make up its mind either. Some strangled sort of sound rips itself out of his throat, scratching long claws into his windpipe on the way up, and he blinks away hot tears as fast as he can because even a moment with his vision obscured could be the moment Link falls unconscious and Taylor can’t have that happen. His breaths are loud and fast and there’s static and ringing in his ears and Link looks pained but ultimately concerned for him which is stupid, so, so stupid because Taylor is fine, he’s not the one with a bullet wound gushing blood, he’s fine, he’s fine, he’s fine.

“Hey,” A voice calls from above him, firm yet calm, between gasping breaths like its owner just ran from somewhere, and Taylor nearly leaps out of his skin, cursing himself for not being on guard enough to notice someone was coming, and -

Taylor looks up from Link for just enough to catch a glimpse of hazel eyes framed by heavy dark circles and smudged glasses, then snaps his gaze back down, shaking with some bizarre concoction of relief and adrenaline as he processes things.

They aren’t being attacked, it’s just Normal’s dad (Uncle? No, dad, he’s wearing glasses), Normal’s dad is a Druid, he can heal, someone heard Taylor when he called for help, Link’s going to be okay.

“Mister Oak-Swa- Swoa-” Taylor starts, but he can’t seem to get the words out with how much he’s shaking, mind and heart and mouth stuttering as he tries to get a fucking grip. “He’s hurt,” he finishes pathetically.

“I can see that,” Normal’s dad says, enunciating each word clearly, barely loud enough to be audible over the din of staticky noise that Taylor’s mind has become.

Taylor’s hands press a bit harder against Link’s side, and his friend makes a broken sound that might be a wheeze.

Taylor looks down at his hands, and god, they’re absolutely coated in gore, a red-brown smudge atop his knuckles from where Link had swiped his thumb across them, and the gauze is a horrible shade of maroon, and it’s damp and sticky with blood and it needs to be changed out but it’s all Taylor has, and the world starts to blur at the edges of his vision and it feels like he’s been running for ages with how his chest is heaving even though his legs ache from sitting in this position for so long, and it hurts to look at Link like this, and something twists in Taylor’s gut and everything feels too constricting and there’s so much blood and he can’t breathe and he’s useless and he’s terrified -

“Hey, Taylor,” Normal’s dad says slowly, gently. “Kid, can you look at me?”

Taylor hears the words and he knows what they mean but he just can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away because his best friend’s life is draining out between the cracks in his trembling fingers and Taylor has to keep watching, he has to, because he can barely feel his hands anymore and maybe if he doesn’t look they’ll fall to his sides and Link will die and it will be all Taylor’s fault, and-

“Taylor,” Normal’s dad says, louder, authoritative, and there’s a hand (dry, not sticky with blood) grasping his shoulder and the weight of it wrenches his gaze upward.

“Agh - sorry,” Taylor says, “Sorry, sorry, sorry-”

“No apologies,” Normal’s dad says, searching Taylor’s face for something, his expression softening, and something about the downturn of his mouth and the gleam of his eyes seems deeply sad and tired in a way Taylor can’t possibly hope to examine, not when the blood coating his hands and the tang of warm metal in the air makes him want to be sick.

“Listen,” Normal’s dad says, jaw setting and eyes going flinty again. “Nod when you’re listening.”

Taylor inclines his head shakily, everything too garbled within him to form any sensical words.

“You did a good thing, okay? You did so well. You used all the resources you had at your disposal. You kept Lincoln stable until I could make it here. It’s going to be okay now, and that’s because of you.”

“Y’did good, Tay,” Link mumbles beneath him. Taylor glances down and Link’s smiling weakly up at him, rubbing gently at the base of Taylor’s neck. “‘Ll’be alright.”

“Yes, you will,” Normal’s dad says affirmatively, and Taylor clings to it like a buoy in a vast, tumultuous ocean.

“Link,” the man says, “Normal’s healed you before, right?”

“Mhm,” Link says, eyes glassy and wide.

“Good. It’s gonna feel a little weird, probably, but you’ll be back on your feet as soon as it’s over. I’m going to touch your shoulder to heal you. Is that okay?”

Link nods, then winces a little.

“Taylor,” Normal’s dad says, “I want the wound to heal properly, so I need you to move your hands.”

“But-” Taylor starts to protest, and his stomach twists violently at the thought.

“I know,” he says, and he has that mournful look in his eyes again. “It’s scary, but I need you to trust me. Okay?”

“S’okay, Tay,” Link mutters. “You can hold my hands, if you want.”

Taylor would rather not tear his hands away from the bloody gauze and open the wound even further, but at the very least he needs to hold onto something.

“Okay,” Taylor hears himself say. Then, “Now?”

“Now,” Normal’s dad agrees, and there’s a horrible ripping sound as Taylor brings his hands away from Link’s side, the gauze glued to them with congealed blood.

Link winces, lifting his hands, palm-up, for Taylor to grab. Taylor takes them and squeezes tight, tries to force himself not to think too hard about Link’s shaking breaths or about how cold Link’s hands are even through the dirty gauze. Link screws his eyes shut as their friend’s father rests a grounding hand on his shoulder and inhales deeply, closing his own eyes in concentration.

When his eyes open, they glow a sickly green, iris and pupil and sclera overtaken by the color of luna moth wings. Mesmerizing luminescent magic siphons from beneath freckled skin, cloudy and moonlit as it writhes from the veins on the insides of his wrists, twisting and like the branches of a newly-grown vine, before meeting Link’s skin, seeping into it with a weak sage-silver glow. The open bullet wound at Link’s side becomes overgrown with green magic. Its faint shine spreads like moss over its surface, suturing it closed before fading away, leaving nothing but a slightly paler slash of Link’s skin in its wake.

“How do you feel?” Normal’s dad asks after blinking away the last motes of glowing green.

“Better,” Link says, letting go of one of Taylor’s hands to ghost curious fingers along his new scar. His eyes are bright and lively and not misted over in pain at all. “Feels a little weird to be on the other side of a Cure Wounds, I’ll be honest.”

Normal’s dad grimaces a little in understanding.

“Definitely beats actively dying, though! Thank you, Mister Oak-Swallows-Garcia.”

“Just Sparrow is fine, Boss.”

Taylor barely registers any of this, however, because his eyes are drawn to Link’s scar. It’s barely a pockmark, only a few shades lighter than his deep brown skin, and Link flinches a little against him when Taylor’s free hand brushes against it. It’s such a small mark, but it’s the difference between Link sitting against him, slouched over and tired but wonderfully, beautifully alive, and Link laying in his arms, limp and cold and dead.

Link carefully peels away the gauze still stuck to Taylor’s palm and slots their hands together. Slowly, he interlocks their fingers, runs his thumb along the side of his hand, and Taylor nearly cries at the gesture.

(Link’s hands are still cold, but that’s normal, Taylor has to remind himself. Link’s always had cold hands, and their hands are clammy and sticky still but it’s okay because Link is squeezing his hand, a silent reminder of I’m here, it’s okay, you can relax, and god, Taylor would be lost without him.)

There’s a shriek of loud static that Taylor is pretty sure isn’t just in his head, and Sparrow sighs.

“Sounds like Dood just spontaneously combusted someone again,” Link observes.

“Yeah,” he agrees, getting up from his crouch and adjusting his glasses. “I’m going to get back out there, see if we can finish this off without any other injuries happening.”

“We’ll come with you,” Link says. Taylor nods, attempting to reassemble his brain into something that can withstand the chaos of the parking lot-turned-battlefield, wanting to get his limbs under him correctly and wincing at the ache, and where the fuck did he leave his cane-

“No, you won’t. You two are out of combat for the rest of the fight. Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re an ice cream shop employee,” Taylor mutters. His voice sounds… off, shaky. Is Taylor shaking?

“Field medic’s, then,” he corrects amiably. “You need to focus on recovering.”

“But I’m-”

Sparrow cuts Link off with a pointed look, allowing his eyes to slide over to Taylor before looking at Link again, and there’s something significant about it but Taylor’s brain feels too scrambled to parse any meaning from it.

“Oh,” Link says softly.

“Take care of each other,” Sparrow says, and something about it feels final. “I’ve gotta go make sure your other friends are holding up okay.”

Taylor watches as Sparrow leaves only in the most distant sense, focusing on clenching his hands against Link’s and feeling the sensation of his friend squeezing back.

“Taylor,” Link starts, and his gaze darts up from their clasped hands (still bloodstained, bits starting to flake off in pieces like peeled paint or grotesque confetti, warm against cold, alive alive, alive) to look at him. He looks so concerned - over him, again, Taylor realizes. “I’m alive. It’s okay. You saved me.”

He punctuates this with a light squeeze to both of Taylor’s hands, and combined with the warmth of his gaze (his eyes had been so horribly cloudy before, and Taylor had almost lost him) and his steady voice (he had been slurring his words, choking on them, near-delirious, and Taylor had almost lost him) and the slight, hopeful upturn of his lips (near-identical to the small, weak smile he wore as Taylor kissed him, and he almost lost him) something in Taylor shatters.

“C’mere,” Link says, sitting up a bit straighter and opening his arms, and Taylor all but launches himself into them, hands scrabbling to find purchase on Link’s shoulders, fisting in the grimy fabric of his athletic shirt as he presses his face into his friend’s chest.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you, it’s okay, you can let it out,” Link soothes, rubbing circles into the back of Taylor’s shirt with his thumbs, and it only makes Taylor cry harder.

You nearly died, Taylor thinks frantically, breaths coming as rapid as the frenzy of his thoughts. You nearly died and I couldn’t do anything about it and I was so useless and pathetic and terrified of losing you and -

“Oh, Taylor,” Link says in between Taylor’s sobs. “Tay, honey, you gotta breathe, okay? Breathe with me, just listen and try to copy me, alright?”

Taylor tries to nod, but with the strength of the tremors that are running through him, it probably doesn’t come across.

Link’s hand comes up to cup the back of Taylor’s head, guiding him to rest with an ear to his chest. Link’s lungs steadily expand and deflate, a consistent rising-falling pattern, and just below Taylor’s ear, his heartbeat pulses, strong and confident.

Taylor thinks about the way Link had barely been able to breathe properly through the pain and his vision blurs with tears again, the periphery growing dark, and Taylor’s breaths feel like they’re being punched out of him, leaving him floundering and weak and aching and miserable.

“Link,” Taylor gasps, wave after wave of sobs wracking his body.

His best friend holds him through it all, offering reassurances in between measured, exaggerated breaths.

“I’m okay,” he says. Breathe in. “We’re okay.” Breathe out. “You’re not gonna lose me.” In. “I’m not going anywhere.” Out. “You were so brave, I’m here, we’re gonna be okay.” In, out, in, out.

Fingers card gently through his hair as Link presses a gentle kiss to the top of Taylor’s head, and Taylor lets himself fall apart.

Taylor can’t tell how long he sits there in the circle of Link’s arms, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the way he breathes. He’s lost time before, but it scares him to think how much he might have missed, especially since they’re still technically on the fringes of an active battleground.

Eventually, though, his breaths even out and the last of his tears dry up, leaving his face a puffy, snotty, splotchy mess.

They sit quietly for a few moments, Link still combing gentle fingers through greasy hair with one hand and tracing meaningless shapes into the center of his back with the other, humming soothingly every now and then.

Taylor pulls away first, wiping below his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Got it all out?” Link asks, and Taylor finds no trace of pity in his voice or expression, only gentleness and concern, and it makes him want to cry again but from the dryness of his eyes Taylor knows there aren’t any tears left.

“Yeah,” Taylor sniffles pathetically, opting to hide his face in Link’s shoulder.

Before he can, though, Link carefully takes Taylor’s face in his hands, thumbing away mostly-dry tears. He leans in, brows drawn together as if he’s concentrating on something, and presses a soft kiss to the top of his nose bridge, just between his eyes. Gold and saffron bloom behind Taylor’s closed eyelids, and the stuffiness and congestion fades away a little.

“Better?” Link asks.

“If you almost die like that again, I’m revoking your kiss privileges,” He huffs in lieu of a response.

“Kiss privileges?” Link echoes, raising an eyebrow.

“Typical,” Taylor gripes with no real heat. “You really had the audacity to make me realize I want you as you’re fucking dying, and you aren’t even taking my threat seriously.”

Link’s eyes go comically wide. “You want me?”

Oh. “I said that out loud, didn’t I,” Taylor says.

“Yeah, you, uh, did,” Link replies. “I thought I had made that up. Like a fever dream, or something. Um, wow. Are… do you really..?”

Link looks so incredibly flustered, and it’s unbearably cute.

Fuck it, Taylor thinks, and he leans further into Link, bringing a hand to rest on his shoulder as he presses a chaste kiss to his friend’s lips.

Taylor backs away, sitting in Link’s lap as he looks up at him through his lashes. “Does that answer your question?”

“Uh, not really?” Link responds, earnest and awkward and sweet. And then a shy smile pulls at his lips. “Maybe,” he says quietly, “if you try that again, I might get it.”

Holy fuck, Taylor thinks, eyes drawn from the quirk of Link’s brows to the smirking curve of his mouth.

“Okay,” Taylor says, splaying a hand between Link’s shoulder blades the way he had wanted to earlier, running another hand through Link’s hair and dragging him down to seal their lips together again.

It feels much better to kiss his friend this way, finally able to hold him and treat him with the affection he deserves and be held in return. It’s unhurried, burnt-out adrenaline leaving him pliant and tired, and the sheer relief of it all has Taylor breaking the kiss to laugh hysterically, breathlessly against his lips. Of course it would take something this stupidly, horribly dramatic to get Taylor to realize what he almost lost.

Link softly laughs in response, and he rests their foreheads together as they attempt to control their giggling.

Taylor opens his eyes to see Link grinning with all his teeth, sunny and bright, his cheeks dimpling from the force of it, and Taylor ducks into his space quickly to place a tiny, fluttering kiss in each divot . Something warm and possessive makes its home in his chest, curling between his ribs, brighter than the solstice-hot flames of hell.

Mine, Taylor thinks, the word doing little to encapsulate everything he feels about the boy in front of him. I’m never letting anything take you away from me ever again.

He pulls away, and Link is looking at him like he’s personally placed the sun in the sky (well, they both helped with that, technically), like he’s someone worthy of being adored, and Taylor feels like he could collapse under the weight of his gaze.

He settles for falling wordlessly into Link’s arms again, and the breath is briefly knocked out of Link’s chest, but his arms come to circle around him, safe and protective and secure and wonderful. Taylor listens to the thrum of his best friend’s pulse with an ear to the side of his neck as Link rests his cheek atop his head, murmuring reassurances and praise in equal measure.

Taylor just barely hears footsteps approaching their spot on the curb of the sidewalk - he probably wouldn’t have noticed it at all, wrung-out as he is, if not for the way Link tenses around him, holding him a little closer as his head lifts from atop his own.

“H-hey, um,” Scary calls - and Taylor knows it’s Scary, recognizes the timbre of her voice, but the pitch of sounds more uncertain than Taylor’s ever known - almost like she’s afraid to speak.

“It’s just us, Normal and Scary,” Norm’s reedy voice adds with that same unsure edge. “The fight’s over, you’re okay, man.”

Link relaxes a bit around Taylor in relief, and Taylor glances up to see him blinking sheepishly at their friends.

“No casualties?” Link asks. Taylor just hums, sinking further into his arms, too exhausted from the whirlwind of adrenaline and emotions to do anything other than listen.

“Not on our side,” Scary confirms. “Dood exploded some guys, though.”

“I exploded some guys!” Dood chirps happily.

“Are you guys sure you’re okay?” Normal prods, voice tinged with worry. “My dad told us what happened. I’m glad he could make it in time, but I think I have a little more juice left if something needs healing.”

“I’m good. Uh, physically, at least,” Link says. “Tay?” he prompts, giving Taylor a nudge.

“M’fine,” he responds without lifting his head from Link’s shoulder, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. “Achy. Sleepy. M’fine.”

“Okay,” Norm says, and Taylor can hear the uncertain frown in his voice.

“We should get out of here before what’s left of the police finds us,” Scary says. “Ugh, this fucking sucks. This mall had a Hot Topic.” The I’m never coming here again goes unsaid, but Taylor, as tired as he is, finds himself nodding with the sentiment.

“I agree,” Link says, shifting a little around Taylor, and Taylor clings to him tighter, refusing to let go. “Hey, hey, I’m staying with you,” Link mutters to him.

The others blessedly don’t react when Link kisses the top of his head - or if they do, they don’t say anything.

“Did anyone find Taylor’s cane anywhere, or?” Link asks, then sighs at the silent answer.

“Okay, we’ll find that later,” he says, then, to Taylor, “I’m gonna pick you up now, okay?”

Taylor nods, arranging his arms sluggishly to lock around Link’s neck and his his legs shakily straddle Link’s stomach.

“Okay, up we go,” Link mutters, and gets to his feet a little unsteady, helped up by someone (Norm, Taylor guesses) while his other arm supports Taylor’s legs.

“Thanks,” Taylor mumbles.

“Thank you,” Link responds, though to Normal or to Taylor, he isn’t sure. Probably to both of them. “That really took a lot out of you, huh?” he asks quietly.

Taylor hums an affirmative.

“Well, it’s okay now. You got me, and I’m not going anywhere, ‘kay?”

Another hum. “Mmkay.”

“It’s okay if you wanna fall asleep on me,” Link says, ever the angel, back from the dead and whole and strong and lovely, and Taylor nods against his shoulder, puffy eyelids already closed, sniffling once. “You can rest now, I’ll watch over you.”

Taylor doesn’t want to sleep, not really, not when he just got Link back and could just as easily lose him again, but the soothing vibrations of his voice from where Taylor’s head rests against his neck and the secure arms around him and the steady cadence of his strides ease enough of his anxieties that he feels himself starting to slip into unconsciousness regardless.

After he wakes and they’re all safe, Taylor will ask Sparrow or maybe Normal about learning Cure Wounds (it’s a spell that Rangers can cast, after all), and Taylor and Link will have a long talk about what all of this means for them, and Taylor will finally make good on his promise of kissing Link until he can’t remember anything else.

For now, though, Taylor smiles weakly as Link ducks to press another kiss into his hair and drops into slumber in his friend’s protective hold.

#sorry if there are 500 billion mistakes in this bc i didn't go through the tumblr ver with a super fine toothed comb haha 😅#freddie wong if you reclass taylor today i will be so unaffected by it (<- lying. lying BADLY)#anyway ummmm this is the longest oneshot i've written in a WHILE so. hope y'all enjoy!!!#dndads #fic #swiftli #blood #happi scribbles

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