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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

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Words: 5,266 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, violence, sexuality, nudity, typical TWD A/N: I didn't do nearly as many read-throughs with this one so there are probably typos. Also YA'LL. ARE. GONNA. LOVE. THIS. A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: After the visit from the Saviors at Hilltop, Daryl and Y/N finally head back to Alexandria, waiting on the edge of war.

Your name: submit What is this?

That night, after the Saviors left, was to be your last in Hilltop before you returned to Alexandria to officialyl kick the hornet nest. You had said something about going to talk to Maggie but after a while you still hadn’t returned and Daryl went to see if there was anything he could help with. He knocked on the door of Jesus’ trailer and Enid pulled open the door. Everyone was there, except for you.

“Hey. Y/N ain’t here?” he drawled. Maggie noticed how his brow drew down low over his eyes, a clear expression of worry.

“She was but she left a while ago,” Jesus said, climbing to his feet. “I assumed she was headed your way.”

“Nah. She ain’t been back.” His stomach twisted a little with anxiety. “Alright… Thanks,” he said, turning to leave.

“Daryl, wait!” Maggie called after him. She got up from her seat at the table and walked over. “You’re leavin’ early in the mornin’, right?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Headin’ back.”

Maggie nodded. “Alright. Then let us say goodbye to ya now in case we don’t see ya.” She grabbed Daryl into a tight hug before he could protest. He was stiff at first but he soon pressed a hand to her back and returned it. “You be safe. And we’ll see ya soon.”

He nudged his nose up in a nod. Sasha grabbed him briefly into a hug. Enid waved from her place on the couch and Jesus strode forward to shake his hand. “Thanks for all your help here,” he said. “It really means a lot.”

Daryl nodded again. “Mhm. We’ll be rid of ‘em for good soon. See ya’ll.” The archer’s broad frame disappeared back outside. He stopped for a minute and scanned the open space for your familiar frame, but he couldn’t see you anywhere. The first places he checked were all the guard posts along the wall but there was no sign of you. He tried Abraham and Glenn’s graves next, but no luck. Then his eyes fell on the stable and he knew you sometimes went there in an attempt to quiet your mind, and after that interaction with Negan today, the things he had said loud enough for everyone to hear, Daryl suspected that your mind needed a little quieting.

His guess was right.

You came into view, leaning up against one of the stall doors, petting a mare who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the attention. There was only the glow of a few lanterns to light the space and your expression was cast in shadow when he came in, the soft hay making his steps nearly silent.

“Hey,” he said, drawing your eyes. “Been lookin’ for ya.”

“Sorry,” you said softly.

“Nah, it’s not¬—nothin’ to be sorry for,” he said, crossing the space to you. You didn’t have a smile for him this time and his concern grew. “Ya alright? Today was…” he broke off, not even sure what word to use.

You were usually quick to reassure him that you were fine, but this time you didn’t. You just stared ahead and absently smoothed your hand down the horse’s neck, trying to gather your courage to speak.

Daryl stepped closer to you until he was leaned up right beside you against the stall door. “Hey. C’mon. Talk to me. What is it?”

He watched you gulp and shut your eyes for a moment, gathering yourself. You shook your head a little and let out a shaky exhale before you glanced over at him. “Negan. What he—he said—and… everyone… the rest of the day today, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. And you know that feeling you get when you enter a room and people were just talking about you? It felt like that in all of Hilltop today.” You bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears burning in your eyes from spilling out. “Everybody here must just think I—”

“Hey, c’mon. Stop that. Nobody thinks anything about it,” he said trying to reassure you. But you turned your eyes down toward your hands.

“The way some of them were looking at me? Yeah. They do, Daryl… Now all of Hilltop knows that I—that I slept with Negan. With him.” It was hard even to get the words out. “And I can’t even really blame them. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I never should have allowed—” you said quietly, breaking off and shuffling your feet back and forth anxiously in the soft bedding on the barn floor. You could no longer stop any of the tears from spilling out and Daryl saw them cascade down your cheeks as you finally looked back up at him and met his blue eyes. “I can’t even blame them for what they probably think of me. What you must think of me…” You hastily wiped the tear streaks from your cheeks. “Hell, a lot of the time—” you shook your head, staring down at your hands again, “I think the worst of it myself…”

Daryl’s brow furrowed more deeply. His gaze was intense. He hated that you had been put in that situation. He hated that circumstances had ever collided in just such a way as to put you in a place where your only option was to submit to Negan, to allow him to lay a finger on you. And then you’d gone back. For him. “Ya want to know what I think? Ya were victimized by him. But ya ain’t a victim. You’re a survivor. That’s all ya did. Ya survived. And ya saved my ass! Ya didn’t have a choice. And any of them who are too stupid to figure that out ain’t worth it. They don’t know a damn thing about it. All the rest of us, Maggie, Jesus, Rick, Aaron & Eric, we know. We know. I’m proud to even know ya. And I consider myself lucky that ya’ve chosen me as bein’—as bein’ someone worth yer time.” He watched you wipe another tear off your cheek, your eyes wide and glassy as you looked back at him. He tilted his head gently at you. “C’mere.” His expression was soft and one you never could refuse.

It was all you needed. You fell into him and his strong arms wrapped around you tightly and pressed you into him, like he needed you there against his chest. Daryl breathed in the scent of your hair and settled you against him, smoothing his hands over your back lightly. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and focused on that feeling of safety. “S’alright. I ain’t ever thought less of ya because of what happened to ya. It ain’t your fault. Wasn’t a choice. And if anybody so much as looks at ya sideways, ya just come tell me and I’ll knock them on their ass, alright?”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. You pressed your hand flat against his chest, loving how you could feel his heartbeat beneath your fingers and the expansion of his lungs as he breathed. You pulled back slightly so you could look up into his handsome face. He looked worried still, anxiously chewing on his bottom lip. But, finally, you gave him a smile, albeit still a little teary, and he relaxed some. His fingers smoothed through your hair and you sighed, feeling a return of the warmth he always gave you. It grew and spread outward in your chest, spilling into your face, and you arched up onto your toes and kissed him.

You were setting your heels back down when his arm snaked around your lower back and pulled your hips into his. You looked up and met his eyes again and he nudged his nose up once. Daryl’s request for another kiss. You gladly acquiesced and this time you both sank into it, breathing each other in. Daryl’s hand clasped your face and his thumb traced the edge of your jaw gently as your lips moved in sync with his, effortless. The sensation of your hands light on his sides was enough to send him reeling with electricity.

“Thanks,” you said softly, after you finally broke apart. Daryl’s hands were landed on your hips and he gave you a questioning look. “Just—for what you said.”

“Ain’t gotta thank me. S’just the truth,” he said. He gave your hip an affectionate squeeze. “C’mon. S’late and we gotta get up early to head home. Let’s get some sleep.” He nudged his head in the direction of the door and you nodded.

You smiled as he laced his fingers with yours and tugged you back to the trailer.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl’s bike rumbled down the road and he pulled it into the garage at Aaron and Eric’s which was standing open. You were still climbing off when the door into the house burst open and Aaron and Eric both came bounding down the stairs.

Aaron reached you first and barreled into you, drawing a laugh from you as you stumbled backward a little before regaining your balance. Daryl watched the interaction with one corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you,” Aaron said, his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

You patted his back. “You too,” you said fondly, smiling widely.

“Alright, quit hogging her!” Eric said, shaking his head. Aaron pulled back and gave you a warm smile before stepping aside to let Eric wrap his arms around you. “We’ve missed you,” he said.

“Missed you guys, too,” you replied, shutting your eyes and giving Eric a final squeeze.

“How’s Hilltop?” Aaron asked as you finally withdrew, glancing between you and Daryl.

Daryl shrugged. “Ready as they’ll ever be. Maggie’s got it,” he nodded. “How’re things here?”

“Ready,” Aaron said. “For the most part. We’re expecting The Saviors today thanks to your intel.”

You felt your stomach twist and you nodded. “Yeah… Hard to believe we’re really about to do this.”

“It’s time,” Eric said, looking suddenly sad. “You heard about Olivia and—and Spencer?”

You nodded. “Yeah. We heard,” you trailed off. “Olivia was sweet. That shouldn’t have happened to her, of all people. But Spencer? What the hell was he thinking?” you asked, shaking your head sadly. “He put himself right in the line of fire… he was naïve, but nobody deserves what happened to him.”

“He couldn’t handle Rick being in charge after his Mom,” Aaron said. “Thought he could do better.”

“Only someone who was completely clueless about what that means would say that,” Daryl drawled. “Ain’t an easy job, what Rick’s doin’. And he feels responsible for every damn thing that happens to everybody.”

You sighed. “That’s a lot of weight to carry around…”

“Speakin’ of,” Daryl said, glancing back over at you. “I wanna go see everybody. Check in with Rick.”

You nodded. “Go. I’m gonna catch up with these two for a bit.”

“They’re gonna wanna see ya, too,” Daryl said.

You felt your cheeks flush a little, nerves still at the idea of being brought so fully in as part of Daryl’s ‘family’. “Alright. I’ll meet you there in a little while,” you said with a nod. “Promise.”

He nudged his nose up at you in a nod. “Alright. See ya soon, then. Aaron. Eric,” he said, nodding at each of them. Daryl disappeared out into the bright morning sun.

Considering what he knew was coming, Alexandria seemed quiet.

But when he pulled open the front door of the house his group shared and paced into the kitchen, he was surrounded by his chosen family. Rick placed Judith in his arms and smiled as Daryl cooed at the little girl. “It’s good to have you back,” Rick said, clasping Daryl’s shoulder when he could.

Daryl nodded. “Yah. Good to be back.” He bounced Judith a couple more times and then glanced at Carl. “Hey. Take her for a minute, would ya? I gotta talk to your dad.”

Carl accepted his baby sister and Daryl straightened Rick’s old hat on the teenager’s head, eliciting a smile.

Once Carl was out of ear shot, Daryl leaned onto the counter with his forearms and sighed heavily. “We really doin’ this?” he drawled. “Ready?”

Rick nodded. “We’re doing it. And we’re ready. Everything is set.”

“And Negan?”

Rick scowled. “I’ll take care of him when the time is right.”

Daryl stared down at the pattern of countertop for a moment. “What if I get the chance first? Or Y/N? We ain’t supposed to take it?” he asked. “If anyone deserves to put that bastard in the ground it’s her. I can’t tell her not to.”

The muscle in Rick’s jaw twitched. “Yeah… I know. But—for now? We need to knock down what he’s built first. Can’t just be him.”

“I know. But if we get a shot at him… Rick, I want him dead,” Daryl growled. “For what he did to Glenn and Abraham. For what he did to all of us. For Hilltop, for the Kingdom… but most of all for her.” The archer straightened up. “If we get the chance, no hesitation. He’s dead.”

Rick eventually nodded, a tentative agreement. He wanted to be the one who pulled the trigger on Negan, but how could he argue for you or Daryl to not get the job done if the opportunity presented itself. “Where is Y/N?” Rick asked.

“Catchin’ up with Aaron and Eric. She said she’d come by in a bit.”

“Good. That’s good…” There was the weight of many cares on his shoulders. “When they get here, I don’t want either of you two anywhere they might be able to see you,” Rick said.

“Why? They saw us yesterday at Hilltop. They already know we’re part of this.”

“I know. I just don’t want to give them an opportunity to take a shot at either of you,” he replied. “And after yesterday, at Hilltop, with what they now know? They might.”

Daryl sighed and anxiously chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “Ya, about that… Negan said somethin’ yesterday. He wants Y/N alive.”

Rick stared at his friend, his brow furrowing more deeply. “Alive?”

Daryl nodded, pacing a little restlessly. “That’s what he said to his douchebag lieutenant Simon. It seemed genuine. He wants her prisoner, and I don’t think he’d kill her after he got his hands on her.” Daryl’s face darkened with rage just at the thought. “So, that means that wherever we think Negan is gonna be, Y/N needs to not be…”

Rick considered the grave expression on Daryl’s face. “Will she agree to that?”

Daryl shrugged. “I dunno. But she’s gonna have to. I ain’t puttin’ her somewhere he might be able to get his hands on her again.”

“Not sure any of us can boss Y/N around,” Rick said, a small smile curving his lips despite the grim topic.

Daryl let out an amused exhale in place of a laugh. “Ya… tell me about it.”

As if on cue, Daryl and Rick heard the front door open and soft footsteps up the hall and into the kitchen. You had a small smile for Rick and the others who were gathered in the living room. Rick returned it as you came to stand beside Daryl. “Good to see you,” Rick said. “We sorely missed having both of you around. And not just because you two can get supply runs done in record time.”

You laughed a little lightly, exchanging a look with Daryl, and nodded. “We missed being home too.”

“Listen, I was just telling Daryl—” Rick hesitated. “I don’t want either of you anywhere near the gate when they show up. I don’t want him knowing you’re here.”

You straightened up and looked at Daryl briefly. His blue eyes met yours and he nodded once to show he was onboard. “Alright,” you said, turning back to look at Rick. “We’ll hang back.” Inside, you were hoping that if Negan didn’t see you there wouldn’t be a repeat of what he had divulged loudly for everyone at Hilltop the previous day. You sighed and looked at Rick. “Once you do this today, there’s no going back. And people are going to die. Our people.”

Rick’s expression was grave, but he nodded. “I know. But if we leave it be, more people will die anyway. At his hands.”

“Yes,” you agreed. “I just want to make sure you really understand what we’re all getting into. Negan, he’s—” You broke off, unable to continue and sighed.

“I know,” Rick said forcefully. “We’ve all seen it with our own eyes.” You weren’t looking up at him. “Hey—” he said, forcing your eyes back to his. “Whatever happens isn’t gonna be on you. You told us all you had to tell. You stopped us from rushing in unprepared. And you didn’t even have to do any of that. We owe you. More than I can say. And I—” Rick pressed his hand over the center of his chest, “I’m so grateful.”

At length, you nodded. “We’ll get it done. We will. I know it.”

Daryl was looking at you in awe of your strength and he watched with a swell of happiness as Rosita grinned at you and waved from her place in the other room and you went striding over to greet her.

“Daryl.” Rick’s voice drew his eyes again. “Whatever happens… we’re fighting the good fight.” And it was then that Daryl suddenly realized that Rick was worried that perhaps you might not make it through this. And he was worried about what that would mean for the archer. It was war. Anything could happen.

Daryl straightened up to his full height and chewed on his bottom lip anxiously. “Ain’t gotta worry. Y/N and I are both making it through this. Rick, she’s—” he paused and glanced back over at you, feeling himself soften as he watched you laugh at something Rosita had said, tossing your head back, your eyes crinkled closed. “She’s stronger than me. And she makes me strong. We’re gonna be just fine.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was surprised when he woke the next morning and realized you weren’t beside him. He shot straight up in bed, his heart pounding, and that’s when he realized that he could hear the shower running and the gentle sound of you humming to yourself over the pattering of the water. He flopped back down onto the pillow and reached over to your side, wanting to see if the warmth of you was still there.

Your side of the bed was cool but Daryl could still see the shape of your body in the sheets and the impression of your head on the pillow. He heard the shower turn off in the bathroom and the sound of you opening the door and stepping out. The archer climbed out of bed and made his way over to the doorway. He leaned against the door frame, taking in the shape of your figure wrapped in a towel, a comb in your hands as you ran it through your wet hair. You finally caught sight of him in the mirror and you gave him that megawatt smile that always sent electricity jumping up his spine and his heart skipping a beat.

“Hey. Morning,” you said, turning to look at him leaning up against the doorframe.

“Ya left me alone in bed?” he drawled. “Real nice…”

A small smile still curved you lips. “I’m sorry. You were really deeply asleep still. Must have needed it. I couldn’t sleep anymore and I just really wanted a hot shower.”

Daryl left his place leaning against the doorway and walked over to you in front of the mirror. His hands landed on your hips and you felt a flush of heat in your chest and face at the contact.

“Yah. Ya didn’t invite me to that either,” he joked quietly.

One of your eyebrows quirked down low over your eyes and you gave him a look, obviously trying to read what was on his mind. “Should I have?” you asked, turning around again to glance in the mirror. Daryl’s hands stayed on your hips and you soon felt his body pressing up against yours.

“Always,” he said, his voice deep and a little gruff with sleep still. He bent and kissed the bare skin on the side of your neck. The stubble on his face was exhilarating and you felt goosebumps rising on your skin immediately. He next pressed his lips to the skin on your shoulder. He thought you smelled of lavender and vanilla. His fingers gave your hips a gentle squeeze.

You bit your bottom lip. “Daryl Dixon…” you said softly. Your tone was smoky, silky, and it drew his eyes to yours in the mirror. “What are you doing?” you asked him playfully.

One corner of his mouth twitched up but then his expression was almost serious. He gently gathered the wet strands of your hair, his fingertips sweeping your neck softly, sending another electric jolt through you. He pressed his lips to the back of your neck and pulled you back against him more tightly.

You felt your lips part slightly of their own accord and your eyes closed. You let out a small exhale and Daryl straightened up again, taking in your expression in the mirror and feeling a flame of heat growing in his chest. After a moment your eyes opened again and met his once more. “Do you know what you’re doing?” you asked quietly. Your breath and heart were increasing in pace and the tingles running through you were becoming impossible to ignore.

Daryl ducked his head a little bashfully for a moment, but only for a moment. When he caught your eyes again, he tilted his head back toward the doorway into the bedroom.

Now your heart was absolutely pounding. You broke from your gaze in the mirror and spun to face him, your brilliantly colored eyes searching his face. You peered up at him and once again Daryl was taken aback by the vulnerability he saw in your eyes. All he wanted in that moment was to wrap you up and make you truly his, show you exactly how goddamn head over heels he was for you. “Are you sure?” you said, and then you hesitated. “I mean, am I—am I reading this right?”

One of Daryl’s hands lifted from your hip and clasped your face gently. And he swept you in against him, his other hand on the small of your back, kissing you deeply and insistently. You felt your knees start to go weak but there was no chance of falling with Daryl’s arm around you, pressing your hips into his. His tongue flicked over your bottom lip and you granted him entrance, letting out a small noise of pleasure as he deepened the kiss even more.

You suddenly pulled back, your hand landing flush against his strong chest. “Wait. Wait…” you breathed, looking up into his handsome face, his blue eyes connected with yours. “Are you—is this—”

Daryl studied your expression and smiled at your hesitation as he realized you were worrying about him. He clasped your face again in both of his hands delicately, his eyes flickering between both of yours. “I’ve wanted this with ya for a long time. I just—I needed there to be other things first… I didn’t want to—to risk ruinin’ this because I rushed anythin’.”

You nodded though there was some mixture of confusion and disbelief on your face. You gently rested your hands on his sides. The lightness, the delicate quality of your touch drove him crazy…

“Hey, I—” he paused for a moment and licked his lips anxiously, his eyes never leaving yours. “Y/N, ‘M in love with you.”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Daryl’s heart was pounding as he waited for your response.

The confusion and disbelief in your eyes was suddenly replaced with a wild happiness that grew, like your smile, by the moment. He felt your fingers curl more tightly into his shirt. “I love you, too,” you said. You let out a joyful laugh as you looked up at him and then immediately arched up onto your toes, crashing your lips into his again.

Daryl kissed you back eagerly, feverishly, but he pulled back suddenly leaving you wanting more. He stared down at you and you gave him a questioning look again, but were unable to stop smiling. “Can you, uhh—could ya just say that again?” he asked, a little self-consciously.

You grinned at him and looped your arms around his neck, looking deeply into his eyes. “Daryl Dixon. I’m so in love with you.”

His heart leapt to hear those words leave your lips and he crashed into you again, his arms pulling you into him and lifting you off your feet. When he set you back down, your lips didn’t separate and you pressed your hands into his strong chest, pushing him backwards into the bedroom again. You pulled his bottom lip in between your teeth, dragging them lightly over it, and smiled into the kiss as the action elicited a chesty growl from him. His fingers dug more deeply into your hips.

He broke from you for a brief moment and looked into your face. His eyes were intense, wanting. “Are ya ready for this? This okay? We don’t have to—”

You grinned at his sweetness and captured him in another fiery kiss briefly before pulling back again. “Get your damn clothes off right now,” you said breathily, grinning at him. “How is this fair? I’m already in just a towel.”

His pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth briefly and shook his head at you like he couldn’t believe this was happening. You grinned and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it off over his head. Your eyes wandered over his strong shoulders and bare chest down to the V of his hips, hitching again on the scars crisscrossing his skin.

Your hands went to him immediately and you leaned into him. He gulped a little nervously, staring down at the unmistakable desire in your eyes. You wrapped your arms around him and arched up onto your toes again, your lips meeting his hungrily, and Daryl happily sank into it. Suddenly he felt your fingernails raking gently down his back and he almost shivered at the sensation. He felt the overwhelming warmth in his chest blooming outward, causing his head to go vaguely fuzzy.

Before he could even think about doing it himself, he felt the towel wrapped around you fall to the floor and suddenly his fingers were wandering over the bare shape of you, unimpeded by distracting or cumbersome fabric.

He smoothed his hands from the flared curve of your hips up the narrowing of your waist and onto the angles of your ribs. His fingers reached around your frame and felt the sharpness of your shoulder blades. You felt small beneath his hands, delicate, despite the fact that he knew you were no wilted daylily. His lips wandered from yours to leave a trail along your jaw and down your neck to your collarbone. You heaved in a small breath at the sensation. Your fingers found his waistband and soon both of you were only skin, completely reeling with the sensations of one another.

A moment later you let out a surprised gasp as Daryl picked you up as if you weighed nothing and laid you down in the bed beneath him. He leaned over you, propped up on one elbow, moving aside a strand of your hair with the other hand. You stared up at him wantingly, your lips parted and waiting again for his. His hands, a little rough but so gentle, clasped your face as he kissed you before tracing the line of your collarbone and wandering down to explore all your curves and angles. You pulled his lips back to yours and tangled your legs with his, gasping in pleasure as the two of you became one and moved in sync together effortlessly.

Daryl was sweet and gentle but needy and fiery all at once and you were both just bounding hearts and sensations, curling toes and waves of rising pleasure. He kept one hand laced with yours and couldn’t take his eyes off you beneath him as you moved together unless it was to press kisses to every part of you. You relished the feeling of his strong muscles moving beneath your fingers, and when you both finally reached the peak his lips on yours were insistent before they softened. He drew back to watch the expression on your face as the two of you came down from your high, rushing breaths and a heartbeat that was loud in your ears.

Daryl settled down beside you, his chest heaving and an arm draped over you which you rested your hand on.

“Oh my God,” you gasped breathily, glancing over at him with a starry smile on your face. You turned onto your side so you were facing him, knowing your face and cheeks were flushed. Your fingers traced over the scars on his chest and despite the afterglow you were basking in you felt a twinge of anger and sadness at what he had gone through.

“Yah,” he agreed, a smile curving his lips. “I can’t even tell ya how long I’ve wanted that.” You thought you saw a blush in his cheeks too. His hands smoothed up and down your side from your shoulder to your hip, memorizing the feeling of you.

You sighed contentedly. “Same.”

Daryl nudged his nose up at you and you gladly acquiesced and pressed your lips to his softly, clasping his face and running your thumb along the line of his strong jaw. You watched his blue eyes open and you drank in the softness in them. His hand came to rest on your hip and his thumb drew absent strokes on your soft skin. You pressed a hand flat to his chest so you could feel the racing of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath.

“Wish we could stay here like this forever,” you said softly.

“Mhm. Me too. We can for a while though at least,” he drawled, moving closer to you again so he could feel your weight and your warmth. You draped your arm over him, the tips of your fingers brushing his back. Daryl watched you fondly as you settled in against him and closed your eyes.

At that moment, it was hard to believe anything could ever break the sense of fulfillment and peace both of you had.

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grind-pantera · 3 years

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Checkered Boards. [ Benny Watts Oneshot.]

I GOTTA DO EVERYTHING MYSELF AND THAT INCLUDES WRITING FICS FOR MYSELF. If you haven’t seen the Queen’s Gambit on Netflix, I totally suggest. Likes and reblogs are totally appreciated. thanks guys! - Miss Em.

Title: Checkered Board. Pairing: Implied! Benny Watts x Reader. Words: 1, 149. Rating: K. just some flirty happenings.

-=-

Your eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as a beam of sunlight came in through the high windows of the hotel lobby. Despite it being sunny it was rather frigid and your blush-striked cheeks surely told of this as you had only stepped inside a few moments ago. Drawing a deep breath in, you felt strangely at home despite being hundreds of miles from it. There was nothing like the smell of a hotel; clean, perhaps too clean but that was never a bad thing, friendly as the faces that you passed on the way to the front desk were smiling with their mouths or with their eyes as an actual smile seemed too friendly to some. Checkered patterns caught your eye to the right. Someone had placed their packed up Chess set on the front desk as they were asked to confirm their identity to get their room. Once you saw that all too familiar pattern, it was spotting up everywhere. There were a few men to the left at a small table, one smoking while the other’s gaze was completely fixated by the board in front of them, deducing, crunching moves within their head before their fingers grasped a pawn and moved. You seemed mesmerized by the board, by the off white and black color of the squares before a voice behind you caught your attention.

“You gonna check in or are ya waiting for---” That voice. That slight Eastern accent that at times seemed a little too good to be true while at other times seemed to fade into oblivion. “(Name).”

The tone fell slightly flat as he came to a realization. You had only turned your head ever so slightly, not figuring that this person was going to be able to identify you from merely your profile. But, you should have known better. A person who stares at a Chess board all day and loves it no doubt would be able to pick out such details about someone else's face, especially if this someone else had been face to face with him previously. Multiple times. Professionally and to your displeasure as of six months ago, personally.

How foolish, the dirty blond thought to himself, that he didn't recognize you from behind. You did hold yourself in a certain way that was like gravity at times that left him shaking mentally when your fingers would brush against one of his Chess pieces during a game. He shut his eyes and shook his head, repeating once again, “(Name).”

Sighing, you turned towards him completely, plastering a faux smile that he read right through, giving off a shit-eating grin in return. “Didn't expect to see you here---”

“It’s the US Open, Benny.” You murmured, suppressing the need to roll your eyes. His eyebrows rose almost comically at your blunt and straightforward statement.

Of course it was the US Open. “Just didn't expect to see you, is all. After our last encounter, I was pretty sure you’d fallen off the face of the Earth.” Tilting your lips into an actual smile this time, you clutched your leather suitcase a bit tighter and snipped at him, “When I threatened to shove every pawn of yours up your---” “That’s the time.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Benny boy. I won’t quit Chess until your face is under my foot in defeat.”

“You should know better,” The tall, lanky man swiveled around and stood between you and the front desk, now altering your only out from the conversation. Groaning internally, you looked up at him, his dark eyes staring right back through a wash of eyelashes. “Going into games angry ain’t gonna get you anywhere.”

“Going into games as a flirt...” You retorted and shoved him aside. Fingertips brushed against the silver necklaces around his neck and it took all your willpower not to react to how it felt. Cold… Smooth... “also won’t get you anywhere.”

He held up his finger, “That was only with you and we weren’t even playing.”

Your face fell, mouth opening almost out of offense.

“You know what I mean. We… weren’t playing in a tournament.” Scoffing, Benny watched intently as you began checking in, handing the front desk attendant your ID for verification. She smiled at you, checked the records before resting your room key on the desk. Grinning, you turned towards Benny.

“We were playing for something a little more intimate, don’t you think?” “Depends what you think is intimate,” Benny said softly, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans. You glanced down for a second and rolled your eyes again. He wasn’t gaudy. Well, maybe a little bit. Gaudy or confident, but those two things liked to go hand in hand sometimes. “A kiss… is well…”

“Depends,” You repeated his own phrase, picking up your key and scooting away from the desk at a slow pace. How you managed to walk, how your feet picked themselves up was miraculous especially when he followed you. “A kiss can be just a kiss unless there’s more behind it.”

His lips parted as you began trailing up the stairs, getting three steps in as he stayed on the ground level. It seemed like a romantic pose and the question that Benny inquired was uncharacteristic for his cocky attitude. He knew everything, his moves seemed calculated so why did he ask you… “Was there more from me or more from you?”

Tilting your head to the side, you smiled more or less to yourself before turning towards him and dropping down one step so you were nearly face to face. “Take a deep breath.” You whispered to him, “And ask yourself that again. Pretty sure you’ll answer for yourself.”

“There was more from you.”

Even though there was space between the two of you, you could feel your breath hitch in your throat, the mere audacity of that statement leaving you breathless and slightly choked. He was wrong. Benny was rarely so but you knew this confidently. The way that his hands held onto your face, the way that he leaned inwards, the way that his lips formed one sentence. Take a deep breath.“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Benny.” You muttered, turning on the stairs and trailing upwards.

He was left speechless, watching you ascend without quarrel. He fumbled, his hands rolling into balls before relaxing. He stepped upwards once, then twice. Then a couple steps at a time before grabbing your arm. You clenched your jaw, looking at the hand he had on your body. “What-” “Let’s play.”

“For what?” “For who had more in that kiss.” You turned towards him, swallowing hard as you noticed just how close he was and how it must have looked like to others as they went up and down the stairs around you as he had stopped you right in the middle. “Who had more. You or me?”

#Benny Watts #the queen's gambit #benny watts x reader #thomas brodie-sangster #emmy writes #fanfiction

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

Lucky Lady {Sir Clyde Logan x nobility!Reader}

author’s notes: KNIGHT!CLYDE LOGAN HAS ARRIVED!! and damn, I think he’s here to stay <3 <3 ((yes, I’m fully aware that southern drawl likely didn’t exist in medieval times, but it’s just a signature of Clyde’s character and I couldn’t bring myself to take it away lol))

warnings: fluff. some hurt/comfort themes/elements. blossoming romance. r.i.p. historical accuracy.

(possible) tw’s: brief depictions of battle & dead bodies (non-descriptive). injuries/wounds. blood (non-graphic).

word count: 1.9k

clyde’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings @icarusinthesea my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox (if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist)

terms to know:

mare is a female horse.

Far off thunder gently rumbles the rain-softened ground and bolts of white streak across the darkened sky as you ride out of the kingdom gates towards the sight of the once raging battle. The vicious storm has passed, now, and despite your father’s warning, you rode out to search for any survivors. Bodies litter the ground and you have to look away, feeling sick to your stomach.

Your horse begins to snort and whinny in distress, suddenly panicked. You can barely see through the hood of your cloak, but you’re pretty sure you see one of the soldiers moving.

You nudge your horses side and she lunges forward into a slow trot, carefully navigating through the maze of fallen soldiers. The closer you get, the clearer you can hear his groans of pain.

“P-Please,” He breathes, voice hoarse. “Help m-me.”

Without hesitation, you jump down and rush over to him, trying not to slip in the thick layer of mud.

“Sir? Where are you wounded?”

You pull out the few bandages you managed to fit in the saddlebag in preparation for his response.

“Ma arm.”

Your eyes fall onto the limb, and you see that almost his entire lower forearm has been sliced off by a crude blade, leaving in its wake an open wound. You quickly and very, very gently wrap the bandages around it.

His half mud-covered face scrunches with every little bit that you wrap and small grunts of torment leave him, but he remains relatively still and calm. When you finish up, you can see the tears that have fallen and cut through the brown painted over his skin.

“Can you stand? I cannot lift you myself, but if you can mount my horse, I’ll walk you back to the castle.” You say, using your cloak to wipe away the rest of the mud, revealing the other half of the knight’s breathtakingly handsome face.

He nods. “I t-think I can stand, but I might need a lil h-help at the beginnin’.”

You place your hand on the center of his back as he slowly sits up with a soft grunt. “There we go. Are you feeling alright still?”

The young knight chuckles, and you furrow your eyebrows. When he sees your confused and hurt expression, he shakes his head.

“‘m not laughin’ at ya, milady, I’m just not used t’ this sorta treatment. Them nurses n’ ma fellow brothers-in-arms, they ain’t usually so kind or nice t’ us. I’m used t’ gettin’ picked on n’ bossed ‘round.” He chuckles quietly, then blushes a bit. “And none of ‘em ain’t ever as beautiful as ya are.”

His nickname makes your heart skip a beat, and your cheeks warm as you laugh softly.

“Well, now, I never said I wouldn’t be bossing you around.” You jest, which makes him smile. “Only when you’re being stubborn.”

“That, I think I can handle jus’ fine.”

The handsome man chuckles before he begins to rise up from the ground, legs quaking as his weight is put on them once more. He eventually steadies enough to take his first step to where your horse is standing.

Your mare’s ears perk and her nostrils flare at the physically imposing figure approaching. You go to try and calm her, but the knight promptly stops you.

“I got ‘er. It ain’t you she’s ‘fraid of, an’ if ‘m gonna be gettin’ on ‘er back, she’s gotta know I ain’t a threat.”

He slowly walks up to her, taking one step at a time, holding his good hand out.

“That’s it, ’m not gon’ hurt ya. Good girl, ‘m not gonna do ya any harm.”

She looks a bit hesitant still, but allows the tall, limping man to come up to her. He lets her inspect him for a moment and briefly sniff his outstretched hand, then she relaxes a bit.

You’re amazed at his natural ability to work with horses, smiling as you step up and put the excess bandages back into the saddlebag. He rubs her head and strokes her muzzle, laughing softly when she starts nudging him with her head whenever he stops petting her.

“Woah now, don’t get too rough with him, Lucky.” You say, smiling shaking your head. “He’s still on the mend.”

“Lucky, hm? Well, I guess now that I know ‘er name, it’s only fittin’ I know yours.”

Your cheeks warm again. “Y/N.”

“Mm, Y/N.” His hand extends to yours. “A pretty name fit fer a pretty girl such as yerself. ‘m Clyde.”

The two of you shake hands, then Clyde gives Lucky one final scratch before approaching the saddle, climbing up onto her back with a surprisingly swift ease. You go to walk up and hold her head to walk back to the castle, but he stops you.

“An’ where is it ya think yer goin’?”

You look up at him, confused. “I told you I was gonna take you back to the castle.”

“Yer not walkin’ all that way, I ain’t allowin’ it.” He pouts softly, huffing as he thinks up a plan. “C’mon up ‘ere. Ya can lay right ‘ere in front ‘a me an’ hold on.”

Your eyes widen for a moment. Surely he can’t be serious... “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

His good hand drops the reins and extends down to you. He looks at you with a kind expression.

“I’ll make sure ya don’t fall. Do ye trust me?”

For some unknown reason, you really, really did. You nod, allowing him to help you lay across the front of the saddle, legs hanging off one side of the horse. You look up at the handsome knight and he looks down at you, smiling.

“Hold on tight, milady. We can’t have ya fallin’, now can we?”

You bite your lip, nodding as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. Once you’re secure, Clyde nudges Lucky forward and heads off towards the palace at a slow gallop.

This close proximity and angle allows you to truly drink in his natural beauty under the low glow of fading sunlight. His dark hair flutters in the evening’s breeze, brilliant alabaster skin splattered with all sorts of freckles and moles, each one even more perfectly placed than the last.

Lucky’s hooves soon hit the cobblestone and you look out between her pricked ears to the scarcely-populated streets of the villages. Everyone who happened to be out on the street gave bewildered looks as the bloody and muddy scene trotted by them.

You direct Clyde to the castle entrance and jump down, already missing the heat of his body pressing against you, informing one of the guards that you had an injured knight that needed immediate attention. He nods and rushes off to grab the doctor.

Clyde smiles when you walk back up to him, hopping down from the saddle slowly and carefully. He strokes Lucky’s neck as he speaks.

“So, will I be seein’ ya again sometime, m’lady?

Your cheeks burn and you giggle softly, biting your lip. “Only if you’d like to.”

“I’d love nothin’ more than to see ye again.” He says with a smile.

“How about I have the doctor inform me when you’re all stitched up and I’ll come down, if you’re feeling up for a visit?”

He nods, pausing his strokes along Lucky’s neck to scratch the back of his own. “I’ll always be feelin’ up for a visit from a pretty lil lady like ya, Y/N.”

You feel your heart flutter for what must be the thousandth time since you met the handsome young knight. Somehow, his words seem so much more genuine than anyone’s have before, and you find yourself truly believing them.

His head dips down a bit and you look up at him, instinctively leaning up towards his lowering face. You can feel his hot breath spread over your skin, noses touching now, and your eyes begin to flutter shut as his lips reach just over yours--

“Milady!” The guard says from behind you, jolting you and Clyde apart. He turns a soft red color, looking down at the ground while you spin around and try to keep some wits about you as you approach the guard and doctor.

A brief visual inspection of the wounded knight is done and immediately, the doctor insists that Clyde come to the medical ward right away. He hands Lucky’s reins to you with a small nod, then allows himself to be escorted up through the large castle doors.

You take Lucky back down to the royal stables before rushing up to your bedroom, eagerly awaiting the doctor’s arrival. The night draws on and, before you know it, you’re fast asleep.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Birds chirp as the sun begins to rise over the land once more. You’re roused from night’s slumber by the light peeking through the luxurious curtains and you instantly arise from bed, acutely panicked by the fact that the doctor never came to retrieve you last night.

You quickly re-pull your hair up before scrambling to find something suitable to wear down to the medical ward, settling on a simple blue villagers dress. As soon as you open the door, you’re startled to find the doctor standing just outside, his hand raised in preparation to knock.

“Milady.” He greets you. “Sir Clyde has been unwavering from his desire to see you all throughout the night. I assured him that I’d come to get you first thing.”

Thanking the doctor and pushing past him without another word, you quickly rush to where Clyde’s laid on a cot in one of the closed-off areas. You smile at the sight of him before knocking gently on the wall outside his room.

“I believe my presence was requested.”

Clyde’s entire being lightens when his eyes land on you, content pout pulling up into a soft smile.

“It was indeed, m’lady.”

You walk up and sit at his bedside, trying to ignore the way your body warms at the sight of his bare chest. Your hand slowly slides over to meet his, resting atop it.

“How are you doing? Are you in much pain?”

He nods. “The pain ‘s pretty bad, but ‘m doin’ alright. But, ‘m doin’ much better now that I get t’ see ya.”

“Always happy to help.” You smile, biting your lip. “I’m glad to hear that you’re okay, Sir Clyde.”

His cheeks turn pink and he shyly threads his fingers through yours.

“So, now that yer here, I was hopin’ that we could...” He trails off and you smile, moving up a bit closer to him, leaning in slightly so that your faces are close together. The breath catches in his throat. “F-Finish where we left off, ‘fore I had t-t’ go.”

You laugh softly and, as soon as you nod, Clyde closes the space between you, lips pressing on yours gently. Both of you let out a soft sigh of relief at the feeling of finally being joined in this way, and his good hand comes up to cup your cheek. His lips tug up into a big, face-splitting grin as he pulls away slowly, still cradling your cheek.

“Thank ye fer savin’ me, Y/N. I dunno what I can do t’ repay ya.”

You smile and chuckle. “I think saying ‘thank you’ a few more times is a good place to start.”

Clyde laughs softly, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Whatever yer heart desires, m’lady.”

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ssolarcalendarr · 3 years

Text

Raffle Prize #1

"Did you get vandalized with graffiti too?"

Pairing: Gundham Tanaka x Male!Reader fic for @nekomaruimagines!

TW: Just drawing honestly, and a pinch (like one granule of salt worth) of language <3 (there’s like one cuss from Nekomaru ):< )

A/N: I hope you like it maru ^^ this was actually so cute hehe // [F/N] is your favorite color!

Prompt 6: "You can see whatever your soulmate writes on their skin on your skin,"

Waking up, in your comfy bed with the blanket draped over your body, you sighed. Another day of...

Messing with your soulmate!

A mischievous smile entered your face, making you look way too evil for this situation. You woke up and the first thing on your mind was annoying your soulmate, whoever it was! Sitting up energetically, you ruffled your hair a bit and checked the time. It was the weekend so you assumed you would wake up later in the day, but to your surprise, you woke up at 5:53 AM.

“Haha!” Your smile grew even bigger. Now you had even more time...

Standing up from your bed, you threw your phone to where you just were and walked into the bathroom, making sure to grab a Sharpie pen from your desk. Looking in the mirror above your sink, already opening the pen cap, your smirk going ear to ear...

Your jaw dropped.

“W-wha...”

Your eyes widened as you look at yourself. Your face. Your soulmate has never done anything this rebellious to you before. Tracing your hand along your skin...

There were multicolored sharpie marks on your face, one of the marks was in red that said “IDIOT” on your forehead, one of them was on your left cheek in blue which was like a summoning circle, another on your other cheek which was a normal star in purple.

You rolled up the sleeves of your pajamas to gather water from the sink to try and rinse off the marker but realized...

Your soulmate made marks all over your body. There were designed lines on your arms and your hands were decorated with symbols along your knuckles and palms. This made you laugh in disbelief.

“Maybe my soulmate wanted to get payback for all the times I’ve done the same!” you thought happily. Then on your other arm, you realized your soulmate left a tiny message.

It wrote, “I am sorry to have to do this, but you left me no choice dearest soulmate. Today must have come as a shock to you, seeing how you probably are currently... But then again, you deserve it Y/N, my ‘angel’.”

You guys shared names, but never phone numbers since writing on your skin was more fun, well for you of course. Either way, you became flustered a bit and a tad annoyed. Well, you got a taste of your own medicine. How early did your soulmate wake up to do this? Was it last night?

Questions popped into your head about them... But the main thing you could think about was “When can I meet them?” You were so eager to meet your soulmate now, and since you had all of these markings on you, this was one of the perfect times to go out and try and find them. I mean, all those other times they were either pretty small like dumb messages to say hello to your soulmate, or sometimes they were huge, where you would go and draw on your face and body. But they were never as big as what your soulmate has done. They looked like tattoos, to be honest.

They can match your level. Maybe even beyond what you expected. Exiting the bathroom, you put the pen back onto your desk. Pondering what to do, you decided to dress up in a [F/C] sleeveless button-up shirt to show off your marked arms and having normal jeans covering your long legs since your arms were enough.

Prepping your clothes, you undressed in the bathroom, still staring at the mirror. You couldn’t help but laugh. Your soulmate really went far this time. There were simple drawings on your chest and random small squiggles.

After dressing up, you raced out of your room, grabbing another marker, this time in green, and your phone. The sun burned your eyes as you entered the outside, your eyes still trying to adjust to the light. Your colorful face could be seen wonderfully now. As you started walking around, heading to a more populated area like the park (which was where you were going), you started to, very rapidly, get stares from people.

Proudly smiling, you made your way to your favorite park, almost always crowded with people of youth: “Sunflower Peaks”, to meet your friends, like you had planned to last minute. Shoving the items you had in your back pocket, you enjoyed the scenery.

Little kids passed by you, probably in awe since you heard them say “Woah!! Look at those drawings on his arm! I want my soulmate to do that when I’m older!” You waved to them and their faces lit up with joy.

Afterward, you stepped into the playground, the bark crunching under your matching [F/C] shoes. Passing by even more children and many parents ushering them from you, you sat on a vacant swing. You reached for the green marker that you put into your back pocket and opened it with your mouth.

Looking around your hand, arm, even under your shirt, you eventually found a spot on your palm, although small, that you could write on. Smiling in the back of your head, you started writing on your skin.

“Meet me over at Sunflower Peak, you’ll know it’s me when you see the big IDIOT on my face :P”

Now the smile was actually on your face, butterflies all of a sudden going in your stomach! However, your confidence was, unfortunately, starting to drain...

NO!

You wouldn’t let your nerves get the best of you today! Plus your distraction should be here by now...

As you dangle your legs on the swing, the breeze on your face, letting it ruffle your hair, you feel like a kid again.

Well, you were acting immaturely when drawing on your body, but most of the time... You were serious. Taking breaks only when you needed to, cleaning your schedule, finishing your work on time, trying yourself to the limit.

Your soulmate was the one who allowed you to be free, to let your childish persona out. Getting all excited, you smiled an even bigger smile thinking back...

“HEY! Y/N! THERE YA ARE!” A loud, booming voice caught your attention. There, your distraction was walking towards you. He probably scared some of the children, but you paid no mind.

“Nekomaru!” You yelled, a bit quieter than him, back. You noticed two other people. One of them was a buddy of yours as well, Akane Owari. The other person was no other than Ibuki Mioda, whom you’ve seen in the news now and then.

Getting up from the seat, you stood up excitedly! Just in time to distract you.

Akane was bringing a picnic basket while Ibuki was handling a... Giant boombox. Uhm, haha, yes, a boombox. You haven’t seen one in a while, only in movies mainly. Nekomaru was carrying a backpack, most likely filled with things for today.

“I brought along Akane and Ibuki, if ya don’t mind! I had a massive workout yesterday with a team I was coaching so I’m sore as shit! We’re gonna stretch!” He boisterously yelled again.

“Sup Y/N! Gotta run real quick!” Akane waved her arm frantically and ran off like she was trying to find something.

“Heyoo!” Ibuki waved, somehow carrying the boombox with one arm, “Nice to meet ya, idiot!” Ah, you forgot you had the word idiot on your face. Embarrassment slightly flooded your senses as you recalled how you faced those children.

You waved to both, giving them a slightly awkward chuckle. After your friends put down their stuff and rested on the grass field, the three of you, excluding the gymnast who was still running, started to bring up small talk. How their days were, how tried Ibuki was, what the plan was for today, etc, etc... What you didn’t mention was that you were including in this because you wanted to waste time, you wanted time for your soulmate to come to you, so you could finally meet them...You got your phone out, checked the time which brightly illuminated as 6:35. God, you were out for a long time.

After a little while, Akane decided it was best to eat first before heading over to a nice spot where a flower field was and start stretching. She plopped down right next to you and opened the basket she was holding for so long. Seconds later, there was a whole kiddie lunch out: sandwiches, soda, onigiri, burgers, literally tons of junk/fast food that kids would love...

Didn’t mean you guys didn’t like em too. Everyone was munching down as you were steadily holding a triangular-shaped onigiri. “Y/N? Ya not hungry?”Akane shouted, food stuffed into her mouth. You nodded and got your phone out again to check the time. It wasn’t late, not even afternoon yet but you couldn’t help but be antsy about your soulmate. What if they didn’t live near here? What if you had to wait hours upon hours? You couldn’t wait that long!

As you took another bite of the onigiri, a phone began ringing, though it wasn’t for long. Most likely a message notification. It wasn’t yours, you had your phone in your other hand. Instead, it was none other than Ibuki...

And Nekomaru? And Akane?

They all got a notification... But you didn’t. Was something gonna happen?

“Ah! You two stay there, I’ll get our newest member joining us today!” Akane yelled out loud with a smile, only to get that idea shut down by your best friend.

“Let me do it, you’ve already gone through all that trouble.” Nekomaru stood up and dropped the, quite heavy, bag on the grass. “I’ll be back soon!” He laughed.

Then he started running away, leaving you with two hyperactive girls.

Ibuki started up some songs on the boombox, blasting it a bit without blowing your ears off. Akane just kept on eating the food, every now and then offering some to you since all you ate was one itty bitty onigiri.

Getting a bit bored, you stood up and started walking around, picking at the grass. Minutes after, you heard Ibuki and Akane snickering about something. Curious as to what they were laughing about, you approached them, but as soon as they saw you walking, they tried to shut their mouth.

Something was up.

You sat back down and stared them down, hoping they spill something.

“Hey, quick q, how did you get that word on your head?” The singer quickly questioned, which got her a sudden elbow in her ribs.

“Oh,” You responded, not expecting to have to answer a question. But nonetheless, you answered it, “Well, when I woke up it was already there, I assume my soulmate did it,” You shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal.

Akane checked her phone speedily and hid it from you just as fast. There was something on that phone...

But you decided not to barge through her personal info and all, you don’t wanna get punched in the face with someone with tons of strength... Such as the Ultimate Gymnast in front of you.

Just in time, Nekomaru came back with no one around him. Wasn’t he gonna-

“Let's go to the flower field and stretch!” Nekomaru cut off your train of thought. Now that was surprising. He picked the bag he dropped on the floor back on his shoulders with ease, and almost dragged you and his friends over to the yard.

Well, not like you minded. The campus you were on was beautiful and so peaceful. The flowers seemed to sway a bit from the tiny breeze of spring. It was cooling and probably the perfect place to spend time with friends.

You wished your soulmate were here. This was your favorite part of the park. It was always so lush and smelled wonderful. All the volunteers took such great care with the plants and you were one of them.

Nekomaru tapped your shoulder since you were so awestruck by the scenery. Ah, you had time to stare at it later. It brought you back to reality and when you turned around...

It was kinda like looking in a mirror.

There was a person there that had the same marking on your forehead. They had all of the markings on your face, on theirs.

You couldn’t say anything, you were so shocked that they were there. There was a male. He had pale skin, two different colored eyes -- ruby and stormy grey, hair that swirled up, and four tiny hamsters sat on his shoulders, all gushing and chipping. The man stared at you, a growing blush on his cheeks and ears. Though, it was covered by the same marks you had on your cheeks.

The same red “IDIOT” on their forehead, the same blue summoning circle drawing on their left cheek, and a purple star on their right.

On one of their arms, since one was covered in a bandage, there was that little message you got. You couldn’t believe it.

Right there, in front of you, the petals of the flowers complimenting the aura around everyone was your soulmate.

Your mouth gaped open but you couldn’t speak. You were breathless. “Hah...” You managed to say.

Then you started laughing. “Hah, hahahahah!” Oh you were so joyful.

You started walking towards him, but it became a full sprint. Your laughs could be heard throughout the whole field. You hugged him, which was more like a tackle since you both ended up falling on the ground. Your smile was so big and so was his, some small tears on the eyes of both of you boys.

“W-Well my angel... You are handsome.” He complimented as he got a close examination of your face, “Now, did you get vandalized with graffiti too?” He smirked.

You nodded as both of you guys sat down peacefully, enjoying the scenery. This was a beautiful way to meet your soulmate.

“Yeah I did, and I believe,” You tease as you cupped his face to bring it closer to you, “The culprit was you, Gundham.”

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cobaltusami · 3 years

Text

Tropical Vacation pt. 7

Hey hi hello! This part was very delayed thanks to my laptop being a tool. I'm writing on a tablet computer hooked up to my tv now lol.

This part is pretty shippy too, Big shocker right? But It's Ishimondo and I couldn't resist--

Characters in this part: Lee!Taka, Ler!Mondo, Makoto, Leon, Hina, Akane, Sakura, Mahiru, Chiaki, Hiro, Nekomaru, Nagito, Hajime, Kazuichi

Word count: 1,803

Part 1: [Click or tap here!] Part 2: [Click or tap here!] Part 3: [Click or tap here!] Part 4: [Click or tap here!] Part 5: [Click or tap here!] Part 6: [Click or tap here!] Part 7: You are here.

Shortly after arriving back from waking up the two dorky gays, they showed up In the dining hall. Fuyuhiko sat down next to Peko after a small greeting and Hajime sat between Nagito and Mahiru, most likely whispering a small threat to the Lucky student for embarrassing them this morning.

“Where the heck were you? You worried us!” Mahiru complained, smacking Hajime upside the head.

Hajime yelped, rubbing the back of his head. “S-Sorry, I lost track of time…”

A few students at the table barely managed to stifle their laughter, others-- Leon, Ibuki, and Hiyoko, didn’t even try to.

“Making girls worry about you.… not cool Hajime.” Nagito chided, crossing his arms as he gave the boy next to him a look akin to a disappointed mother.

Hajime whipped around to face Nagito, His expression unreadable. “Nagito…”

Chiaki reached around Nagito, digging her fingers into Hajime’s side warningly. “Don’t threaten him.”

Nagito giggled as he watched Hajime’s face turn bright red, a small yelp slipping past his lips as he inched away from them, now nearly on the edge of his seat to avoid her fingers.

“Chiaki, don’t torture Hajime this early In the morning.” Nekomaru warned lightly, Chiaki pouted as she pulled her hand back, seemingly complying.

Hiro chuckled at this. “Looks like you’re the parent of the friend group…”

“Parent? Nah, he’s more like the big brother of the group.” Kazuichi responded. “Mahiru Is the parent of the group.”

“I am not!” Mahiru frowned. “I don’t have the stamina to mother all of you hoodlums.”

“Did she just use the word hoodlum unironically?” Makoto whispered to Kazuichi.

“I heard that Naegi! Just because you’re not In my class doesn’t mean I can’t reprimand you too!”

Makoto squeaked and shrunk back in his seat as she began to lecture both him and Kazuichi.

Celeste giggled as she sipped her tea. “I like her.”

“She’s certainly… Passionate.” Kyoko agreed, taking a sip of her own tea as she watched with amusement.

After breakfast was over, class 77 sent away the other class so they could plan the party. Nekomaru went with them to make sure Mondo left Sakura and Hina alone, he could’ve sworn that Mondo was just Akane but In guy form.

Speaking of Akane… where did she run off to?

As Nekomaru glanced around looking for the spitfire, he lost sight of Sakura and Hina. So at that point he decided to just stick around Mondo and keep an eye on him that way.

Currently the biker was walking along the beach with Taka, the pair looking for seashells or something corny like that.

Hiro approached the team manager casually. “So, You’re the brother of the group huh?”

“I guess so.” He responded with a chuckle.

“I’m the brother of my group too.” Hiro smiled. “They’re all a bunch of dorks aren’t they?”

“That would be an understatement.” Nekomaru retorted. “But they’re my dorks.”

“Even though sometimes they drive you nuts with how they behave.”

“Between Akane, Gundham, Kazuichi, Nagito and Fuyuhiko, I don’t know which one Is more misbehaved.”

Hiro chuckled. “Yeah, Mondo, Leon, and Hina are pretty chaotic too. Mondo has been on a war path since having that endurance challenge with Taka, He wrecks everyone with tickles man, It’s horrible.”

“That’s nothing! Fuyuhiko threatened to stab Nagito last week for teasing him and helping Hajime tickle him.” Nekomaru retorted.

“Hahaha! Last time we tried to take down Mondo he concussed Makoto.”

The two began sharing stories about their nerds, thus taking Neko’s attention off of Mondo. He and Taka snuck off to the park and sat down on the bench together.

They sat In silence for a bit, Just enjoying each other’s company. But eventually Taka let out a small happy sigh. “I really like this Island. What do you think about It, Kyoudai?”

“Eh?” Mondo turned his attention to his totally platonic not at all homosexual In the slightest best friend. “It beats the school so far.” He shrugged slightly, resting his arms across the back of the bench.

Taka took this as a cue to scoot a little closer, Mondo’s fingers grazed his shoulder opposite to him motioning for him to get even closer. He kept inching closer, each time Mondo would repeat the motion.

Even when their bodies were pressed against each other. “Mondo, If I get any closer to you I will be in your lap.” Taka finally said.

“I’d be okay with that.” He replied cheekily, resting his hand on his shoulder to hold him.

Totally platonic.

No homo, as they say.

Taka rolled his eyes as he rested his head against his shoulder, wrapping his arms around his middle. Mondo fully moved his arm to wrap around Taka’s shoulders now. “I bet you would.” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Taka smiled innocently up at the biker.

Mondo narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he slowly let the subject drop and relaxed again. “I guess I like that the Island Is big, doesn’t feel as fuckin’ cramped as the school.” He said, returning to the previous topic.

“I agree! And It’s so nice to feel the sun again.”

“Yea, and the fresh air Is nice too.” He conceded. “It’d be even better If I had my bike though, then I could finally take ya for that ride I promised.”

Taka tensed up, he never particularly cared for the idea of riding with Mondo. “Y-Yeah, such a shame.” He replied quietly.

It’s not that he didn’t trust him or anything, It’s just the thought of being on a motorcycle scared him a bit.

“S-So uh… What do you think of the classmates?” Taka asked, trying to change the subject before Mondo noticed his nervousness about motorized bikes.

Smooth.

“They seem alright, What do you think of ‘em? I trust your judgement more than mine.” Mondo asked, glancing down at the boy.

Taka pulled back slightly, looking up at Mondo with big eyes. “R-Really??”

“I mean, Yea. You’re a better judge of character than I am..”

He wasn’t expecting the next reaction.

Taka pulled back, prodding at his stomach incessantly. “Kyoudai! You should trust yourself and your opinion more!” he scolded.

Mondo yelped, his arms shooting down to block off his midsection from the Moral Compass. “EY! Will you cut that out??” He grabbed hold of Taka’s wrists and held his hands away from him.

He yanked on his wrists, pulling the smaller of the two Into his lap with a yelp. “Y’know, If you wanted me to tickle ya, Ya coulda just asked.” He smirked, coiling his arms around his prey.

“W-Wait! No! Mohohohondo!” Taka burst Into giggles as his fingers ghosted over his ribs.

“Yea, Kyoudai?” He hummed, digging into his ribs more firmly. “What’s up?”

“Hehehehahahaha! Dohohohon’t!” He whined through his giggles, blushing.

Mondo leaned forward, dusting small kisses across his neck. (what was exposed of it anyways) whilst unbuttoning his jacket, “Y’know, technically you don’t gotta wear the uniform right? We’re not in school right now.” he commented as he tugged the jacket off and dumped it unceremoniously onto the bench next to them,

Taka was too busy giggling to protest, as embarrassing as he found being tickled, he actually did enjoy it. Especially If it was Mondo doing the tickling.

He slipped his fingers under Taka’s white tee and ran them teasingly across his belly. “There, Don’t ya feel better now that you aren’t burning alive under that coat?”

Taka shook his head as he collapsed back against his chest, his giggling ramping up.

“No? Well fuck bro, I’m not sure what else I can do to help ya.” Mondo pretended to think about it. “Are your sides hurting? You want me to massage ‘em for ya?”

“N-Nohohohohoho! My sihihihides are fine!” Taka yelped, his arms wrapping around his midsection defensively.

“You suuuure? If they’re real achy, a nice massage will do wonders~” He purred, resuming his barrage of small tickly kisses to his neck.

Taka rested his head back against Mondo’s shoulder as he laughed. “Ihihihihihim suhuhuhure! Ahahahaha!”

Mondo pinched and prodded at his lean stomach and hip bones, smiling at the squeals and musical laughter it brought about. “A’ight, guess I’ll have to find another way to make ya happy.” He responded nonchalantly, withdrawing his hands momentarily only to shove them under his arms and dig into the sensitive skin.

“AAH! Mohohohohondohohoho!” He shrieked, his body doubling over as It attempted to get away from the tickles.

“Yea bro?” He snickered.

“Ihihihihihit tihihihihickles!” Taka whined through his laughter, trying to escape from Mondo’s lap to no avail.

“Uh yea bro, It’s fuckin’ supposed to.” He grinned cheekily, as soon as Taka tried to push his way to freedom, he pounced. His fingers descend cruelly on his sensitive sides, drawing a scream from the strict student.

“KYAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WAHAHAHAIT DOHOHOHOHN’T!”

“Don’t wait? I gotcha bro.” He chuckled, then leaned closer to whisper In Taka’s ear. “You wanna experience all the nice tickles, Right?”

Taka’s face grew even more red, If that was humanly possible. That bitch, I mean he wasn’t wrong but how dare he call Taka out like that?

“Hah, Gaaaaaay!”

Mondo paused his attack on poor Taka and looked up, spotting Leon across the way near an island bridge. “Leon, Fuck off. Unless you wanna be next.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.” Leon grinned. “I think you have other targets ahead of me.”

“Oh yea? Like who?”

As if waiting for that exact moment, Taka bolted out of his hold with Hina’s help. The moment he was free, A bucket of water was dumped onto Mondo, ruining his hair.

He shrieked in surprise as he jumped up, he whipped around to find the culprits.

Akane was cackling whilst she and Sakura stood there holding the tub. “I warned you I was gonna get you.” The white haired girl smiled.

“Oh, You’re so fucking dead!” He roared, jumping over the back of the bench to get the martial artist, but he ended up slipping and falling in the grass due to being soaking wet..

“Kyoudai!” Taka yelped, getting down next to him to check him for injuries.

Hina giggled evilly as the girls hurried off. Leon also disappeared, apparently he chose the side of chaos today.

Mondo sighed as he sat up and pushed his hair back out of his face.

“Are you okay?!”

“Yea, I’m fine.” He reassured him. “Sakura’s not gonna be when I get a hold of her though.”

Taka sighed in relief. Well at least he knew Mondo was actually okay and not just saying that. “Come on, Let’s get back to the hotel so you can change. Then we can get revenge.”

Mondo grinned at Taka, planting a kiss against his lips. “I fuckin’ love ya.”

Yes… No homo indeed.

24 notes · View notes

kipscorner · 4 years

Text

Headernotes:

- Anything in Parenthesis, feel free to change or remove. - Feel free to change pronouns to match. - Thank you for reblogging and using! <3

Happy Halloween!

“Hey, wait a minute, What about this house?”

“Somebody's coming...”

“(name), I'm 13, okay? I'm practically a grown up, I'm certainly old enough to make my own choices, Right?“

“Is there an age for that?”

“I have my reasons, and I will explain them to you when you're... taller!”

“It's just one night, What is the big deal?”

“Skeletons, witches, vampires...She spends our whole math class drawing ghosts in her notebook!”

“But look at her! You've kept her from a normal childhood, and it's turned her into a wall ornament!”

“You keep us all in this big bubble, How are we supposed to grow up if we can't explore the world, try new stuff and take some risks?”

“(name), I am just trying to protect you.”

“Where did you get to, my little darling?“

“But the important thing is that I'm here now...”

“Oh, and then we'll put up the decorations so we can get this party started!”

“How does all this stuff fit in here?“

“I've always said the movies can teach us about life.”

“You know, these look like the ones from the Egyptian Book of the Dead.”

“You know, ghosts tend to be very depressed creatures.”

“I like being here, I can have a normal life here.”

“Oh, being normal is vastly overrated!”

“Let's not fight again, I know you're only here for a couple of hours...”

“You can't tell what's in a monster's heart just by looking at 'em, I mean, sometimes, some of the slimiest, raunchiest, ugliest little monsters turn out to be the nicest.”

“Have you cast any spells or taken midnight flights through the sky?“

“I was only trying to do what you should have done long ago.”

“Why, you're only lucky that you have two children that are showing powers at all!“

“You're wrong about why I came here tonight, The fact is, I came to ask for your help.“

“Well, something is wrong at home. Something's happening. Every day, I find another neighbor has changed. Turned hateful, it's frightening. And soon after that, they disappear altogether.“

“You don't really believe all this witch stuff is true, do ya?”

“Right, Now you can see the future, Tell me, what am I gonna have for breakfast?”

“I raise a demon from the underworld, and they say, "Big deal, I saw the same thing on Jerry Springer."

“Well, hello there, I don't believe we've met.”

“Yeah, it's a pretty nice place. Better than a lot of graveyards I've hung out in.“

“You can train me!”

“Two hours there might be two days here, or two weeks, if we're on vacation!“

“Are you gonna use your magic to raise some spirits, have a big sance and call on the forces of darkness?”

“she's completely changed! Her face... She was like a wild animal, And she was fine a couple of hours ago!”

“I have to apologize to you, (name). I didn't take you seriously about this thing at first, I think you've uncovered something very serious.”

“It's much too dangerous for you to be involved with by yourself.”

“Promise me that?”

“I'm friends with some very powerful creatures around here, you know!”

“Magic is really very simple. All you have to do is want something, and then let yourself have it!”

“I'm never talking to you again, you know!”

“I'm so sick of you drinking all this caffeine! You're giving me a headache!“

“You didn't hear about the election?”

“You are the last person I ever expected to see here. It's been a long time, huh?”

“You always did let your magic do the talking, Thank you.”

“You know, I always hoped you'd come back. Now here you are.”

“Oh, and if you marry him, I am not calling him "Dad,"

“I'm not marrying anyone, and this discussion is over.”

“I don't fear him or any creature.”

“Look, if you want to give up your roots ,that's fine, but I don't. And it's not right for you to try to make me.”

“You think your magic is more powerful than mine?”

“There is nothing you can do to stop me!”

“Together we can conquer anything.“

“There's gotta be a ghost around here someplace, Come on!”

“Sure, sure, Make fun of the transparent guy! Just 'cause you can see through us doesn't mean we don't have feelings!”

“Can I get some help over here? Burning up!”

“Hey, what's with the third degree here?”

“You know, Grandma says that spells are stronger when you have more than one witch. You wanna help me?”

“You can celebrate later. Come on, let's get out of here!”

“Well, when it's dark on Halloween, where do you put the candle?”

“You can't be serious. You're not actually thinking of going into that thing!?”

“Follow me!”

“Follow me! and together we will reclaim the Mortal World which is rightfully ours!”

“Look, I made an awful mistake. So let me try and make up for it!”

“You thought you could hide from me?”

“How dare you disobey me?”

“The power of evil is stronger than good!”

“Good going. Looks like you got more than the weird part down.”

“You could've had me.”

“Don't waste your energies!”

“Do you think that your magic is any match for mine?”

“You did a fabulous job, all of you. I'm so proud of you.”

“I'm sorry about the things I said and did. And I'm sorry that I didn't trust you.”

“I never could've done it without you.”

“Hm, Well, then I guess you're just gonna have to come live with us. That is, if you want to.”

“I thought we could continue your studies.”

“See you in the afterlife!”

#halloweentown #inbox meme #inbox memes #roleplay inbox meme #Inbox Starters #sentence starters #roleplay starters

114 notes · View notes

hansolmates · 4 years

Text

vernon; blossomed (m)

feat. tattoo artist!vern x flower shop fem!reader based on nonnie’s big brain

genre/warnings: flangst, lang, wild generalizations of how tattooing works, gratuitous love for side characters, mild drinking, phineas and ferb references, mild foreplay

word count: 12k

Vernon called you his Rose.

Not exactly his Rose, because you were definitely not anyone’s property and he wanted to give you nothing but your full autonomy, but it’s because he’s never had the chance to ask for your real name.

But when he first spotted you in the little lavender and honey colored flower shop across the street, you were tending to the rose bushes at the front entrance. You were cutting roses and you didn’t look utterly graceful, in fact you stabbed yourself more than once with the thorns. He couldn’t help but laugh when you laughed when your co-worker had to hand you a new bandage every minute.

He decided then that he liked you, even if it’s not wholly sexual or romantic, he liked you.

Or maybe he just liked the idea of you, the way you’d lounge around in the canopy swing with your boots tucked under the seat, fluffy yellow socks wiggling out in the sun. Sometimes you’d read a book, sometimes for well over an hour. He liked how you soaked up the heat and created your own little world, happily unproductive.

It was only a seven meter walk from the flower shop to the tattoo parlor, but the view from his front window required zero walking distance and a sure-fire lack of ever bumping into you.

“Vernie’s got a crush on the Flower Girl,” Yoongi sing-songed, chugging along a box full of random-ass materials that Vernon was supposed to clean in the morning.

Vernon scowled, and swatted away the older one’s hand when it dived in front of his face.

Yoongi whistled like he was an old-time animation, singing the day away. “Vernie’s stalking his crush.”

“I’m not stalking,” Vernon snapped, swiveling around in his rolling chair. “that involves shit like literally following her around, photography, I dunno, being a weirdo?”

“You definitely qualify for one of those.” Yoongi replied tartly, and he fought the urge to grin when Vernon finally turned back to the window, only to narrowly miss your form. The swing was now unoccupied, the only thing remnant were your working boots lined up against the entrance. “It’s been what, two weeks? Just ask her out already.”

“You think I would’ve done that by now if there wasn’t a reason why?“

Soooo you were dating someone. Some super tall, super handsome guy would stroll up to the flower shop every morning, coffee in hand. Before you’d take your proffered coffee, he’d pucker his lips for a good-morning kiss in repayment. Vernon looked back to Yoongi, who was staring right back at him and confirming his suspicions that yes he was being a fucking weirdo for paying attention to things like that.

Yoongi pressed his lips together, puffing his cheeks out in slight irritation. “So you’re stalking a taken girl,” he whistled lowly, “should I regret hiring you?”

“Not funny.”

“As repayment for effectively creeping me out,” The older one slipped his hand into his electric yellow windbreaker to twirl Vernon a ring of keys. “You’re closin’ up for tonight.”

The brunette’s jaw dropped to his lap, and he got up from his spot by the window. “What? What happened to Minghao?”

“Sick,” Yoongi shrugged.

Closing up meant that Vernon had to stay until 12AM, at the very least. The area was off a college town and that meant a lot of young lucrative artists would stop by pretty late, hence the closing time. Usually Yoongi and Minghao were the night owls, but tonight Minghao was supposed to fly solo because Yoongi landed a last-minute recording gig. “C’mon, can I at least close early?” Vernon whined, “it’s summer. No one’s here.”

“What, ya gotta date or something?” Yoongi smirked, swinging the entrance open. Halfway out the door, he added loftily, “don’t forget to water Patricia. It’s been two weeks.”

The door slammed and Vernon was left alone. He spared a glance at the window, only to see that your boots were now gone from the patio and only one light was on in the shop. Vernon turned to his company for the night, their jade succulent, aptly named Patricia Planty.

With Patricia Planty watered and a stomach full of Wendy’s nuggets in his body, Vernon busied himself up for a grueling five hours. Thankfully he brought in his laptop, as if he were expecting Yoongi to pull a fast one on him tonight. He drew some random things on his tablet: rockets, stars, the occasional squirrel, and roses. When he was tired of drawing, he’d blast the speakers off the joint and mess around with some of his music programming. When he was tired of doing both, he’d vegetate on the couch and read Reddit articles.

It was past eleven when the first customer of the night stumbled in. Vernon fought the urge to groan, putting down the pen of his tablet on a particularly intricate constellation.

“We’re closed!” He yelled through the office door. A white lie, but who would know?

“Google said you were open until 12!” A voice yelled back, sounding slightly strained.

Crap. Vernon lowered the volume and pushed away the swivel chair, swinging the office door open. With a rough clear of his throat and hoping not to look like too much of a jerk, he faced his customer, “Welcome to Nu ABO—”

It was you. Cheeks ruddied, and your eyes glassed with a fresh glaze of tears. Your lower lip worried into a wobbly frown. Vernon’s Reebok’s glued to the concrete of the parlor, effectively stopping him in his tracks. The smell of mulch and a mixture of flowers penetrated his nostrils, but it did nothing to distract the utter hurt etched on your face.

“Um, hey,” his voice was gentle, yet unsure. “What are you doing here?”

You just looked at him, incredulous. Vernon could have sworn he saw your left eyebrow twitch. Of course, you’ve never met him in your entire life, yet Vernon felt like he knew you since the beginning of your summer work. “Gettin’ a tattoo.” You replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, rubbing away a stray tear.

He didn’t want to say it, but Vernon sighed and reasoned, “But it’s just that, ya kinda look—”

You brushed past him, going straight into the artist room and plopping on the worn leather chair meant for customers. It was still high up because Vernon was cleaning the underside of the metal, so you had to do a little hop to get on. “I don’t care what kind of design. I looked up your Yelp online and everything looked pretty good.” And you then proceeded to unbutton the top of your blouse.

“Holy shit,” he bounded over to you, grappling his fingers between your shirt before you could undo the rest of it. His breath was probably hot and heavy, compared to yours which was fresh from the cool summer air. Your faces were so close, closer than he ever fathomed. He didn’t think you two would meet this early in the year, as he was emotionally preparing to visit your flower shop at the end of the month, making up some spiel on how he needed to purchase real roses to replicate a commission. Not now. Now was a spontaneous episode, where he was trying to refasten your shirt and ignore the petal pink lace of your bra baiting his eyes.

When he sensed that you would in fact, stop taking your shirt off, he backed up. “It’s just that, after eleven we don’t really apply tattoos. We just take consultations.” He tried to sound defeated, rubbing the back of his neck. Again, another lie. But Vernon wasn’t about to ink you on the spot, especially when you looked like this.

“Is it because I’m upset?” You cried, “because I assure you, I’m in the right mind!”

He winced, lolling his head back and forth. “That’s debatable.”

You frowned, “C’mon, I have money. Just do me this one solid.”

“What? No, you don’t even know what you want!” Vernon was exasperated. Not that he imagined the first time meeting you would be a walk in the park, but at the same time he wasn’t expecting to argue with you.

"Don’t you want to be part of my spontaneous young life? Give me a tattoo that I’ll think about with my children 30 years from now?” He would laugh if you didn’t look like you were crying a river ten minutes ago. “As long as it’s not a tramp stamp, because I don’t think I can pull that off—"

"Did you break up with your boyfriend or something?” Vernon blurted out before he could regret it.

Your face morphed into something Vernon couldn’t understand. Pain, for sure. But a sort of relief knowing that you didn’t have to hide it. “Damn,” you give him a tired smile, “does the whole town know or something?"

You cried again. This time, Vernon reacted quicker. Pulling out a Wendy’s napkin from his flannel pocket, he proffered it to you. He was thankful you didn’t question whether it was clean or not (it was!) and you proceeded to cover your snot and tears all over it.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

You sniffled and blew a particularly large chunk of snot before you shook your head.

"Do you… want fries?” He gestured to the small table in the room, which had some leftover fries from his combo. “I can heat ‘em up in the microwave."

Due to the fact that you ran out of tissue room, you rubbed your face with the entirety of your sleeve. You peeked out mid-rub, and replied with a soft, "hell yeah I do."

His heart twitched. Even betwixt your teary expression, you were so freakin’ cute. He shuffled back to the office, nuking the leftovers in the microwave until they were piping hot. Vernon waited a bit for them to get cool, and fiddled with the music so a soft R&B playlist bounced off the walls. He couldn’t believe you were here. Scratch that, he could, because you were bound to run into him one day due to pure proximity.

But he didn’t imagine you’d be plopped in his artist room at 11:32, bleary eyed and shoving potatoes in your mouth.

Vernon busied himself with his phone, and typed a hasty you wouldn’t believe what just happened… to the employee group chat.

[June 11, 11:33PM]

Bo$$ man: dont tell me u put aluminum in the microwave AGAIN

Hao hao: the chinese mafia came for me, didnt they? good thing I called out

Jeonghan is a prick: use your resources! sharp items are everywhere :) emergency money is under Patricia’s table

Bernie: tf is wrong w all of you

Bernie: SHES HEREEEEEE

"M'sorry,” you mumbled with a mouthful of fries, breaking Vernon from his mid-text crisis. He felt his phone buzzing like hell as he shoved it in his pocket, but ignored it for the sake of you. Your previous high of emotions has long worn off, and now you were looking a little embarrassed as you fixed your gaze on the empty container of fries. Your face is blotchy and red, and you’re especially puffy due to the salt you just consumed. “I should go home."

He didn’t want to be intrusive, but the look on your face showed it was clear that you didn’t want to go home just yet. Drumming his fingers against the metal table, he casually suggested, "Why don’t I do your back?"

You looked at him like he was crazy. "You still wanna tattoo me? After I cried like an idiot and ate your fries?"

"You’re not an idiot for being upset. And I offered you my fries.” He pulled out an ink canister, and a thin needle. “This is temporary ink we use to practice, or for customers who wanna test out the look. Lasts one to two weeks. And y'know, it’s a nice distraction."

You looked skeptical, unsure of his kindness. "Why my back?"

He shrugged, "It’s the biggest canvas. And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to look at it."

Still, you’re not convinced. There was something strange about him, something almost too sweet. While your schema may be marred by television and movies, the man in front of you didn’t seem like he quite fit into this little shack. He’s full of color, in his eyes and in his stature, his words clean and pure as he tries to soothe your aching heart. And as much as you tried not to check him out, you spotted no tattoos on any viewable part of his body.

"And it’s kind of cathartic, really.” He watched your lips quirk up in a smile at the word usage. Not only sweet, but probably smart. Your first smile all night. Cheeks effortlessly heated, he continued, “you kinda just let go into the feeling. And it’s always fun to not know what’s been drawn until the very end."

You’re curious. There’s excitement in your vision as he gestured to the available cot, inviting you. "Alright. Ink me up."

Vernon grinned, and started preparing the workspace. Handing you a medical gown, he quickly shuffled away to prepare the ink and needles. He didn’t really work with the clients as deeply as this, he was really just a glorified secretary that took care of the consultation. While he washed his hands, he heard the faint rustle of fabric, definitely your shirt and bra. He turned up the temperature of the water, acutely aware of how hot his hands were getting.

"Um,” your voice is muffled from being pressed up against the cot, your face presumably propped with pillows. “So are you Yoongi?"

"Nah, I’m Vernon.” He wheeled over a cart full of supplies, the metal clanging against the concrete. “’M usually the guy who wipes the sweat off his brow."

You hummed your own name in response, resting your cheek in the plushness of the cotton pillow. There’s a number of sounds paired with the R&B in the background. The smack of Vernon putting on gloves, the click of the needles and the slickness of the balm Vernon has applied on your back. His touch was warm, as his palm crescents across your back to soothe the balm into your skin. He then wiped it down with a paper towel until your skin was smooth and dry.

"Any ideas yet?” He asked, and from the corner of your eye you see him switch out a needle for a new ink pen.

“Maybe, stars?” Your voice is muffled against the cushions, as you’re hugging them close to your body. “And maybe something inspired by Spiderman? I liked that new one with Miles, he’s a cool one."

You could hear the smile in his voice, "I liked that one, too."

You stuff your own smile in your pillow, how embarrassing could it be that this stranger can make you feel better so fast? Mingyu would be groveling if he saw you now, topless, letting a man ink you up in however way he wished. "Will it hurt?"

He chuckled at that, "Nah. The ink will sit on top and sink in, I barely have to apply any pressure. Just relax."

Under the discretion of Vernon, who offered you fries and liked Spiderman, you relaxed. The first stroke of the needle and you were a goner. You closed your eyes and let him do his thing, You couldn’t tell what exactly was going on through his mind as he was painting your back, but you could tell his art was rather cacophonous: stiff pokes here and there, smooth strokes, and wide breaths of ink staining your back. The ink melted into your skin, bonding to your cells under Vernon’s careful control.

It was almost 1AM when he finished. He tapped your back, urging you up. Tired, and slightly dazed, you sat up. You realized a little too late that you’re only wearing a thin hospital gown, the straps having fallen midway through the process. The air was cool against your skin.

Vernon totally would’ve gotten a complete view of your sideboob if he wasn’t blushing like a maniac and looking away, and you respected that. His arm is punched out, fisting your button down. You hastily snatched it away, and turned around in order to look decent.

“The ink won’t show up fully for another six hours, so until then let me know how you like it.”

“Thank you so much,” you smiled gratefully as you do the last button of your blouse, and pulled out your phone. “Do you accept Venmo or Cashapp?”

“Oh, yeah.” He accepted the proffered device, and put in the necessary charges.

Once he gave back your phone, you added a sizable tip to the price he typed up. “The time really flew by,” you noted the time on the corner of your phone, 1:07. “It was really, an experience like you said.”

He shrugged, and threw you an easy smile. “I try.”

"Can I get a real tattoo from you someday? Y'know, when I’m ready?"

"Ah, no. I’m not really under the apprenticeship.” He looked bashful when he said it, as if he were caught doing something wrong. “I just work here for the part time money. I do art on the side, though.”

You had the urge to ask what he doesn’t do on the side, but it was late and you were probably holding up the poor guy for your trivial questions. “Regardless, I’m still thankful it was you that did this for me.”

In three strides, he opened the small door for you. “My pleasure. Have a good night. Or, morning. Or if you’re one of those people who don’t consider it morning unless it’s light out, then good night?”

“Good night,” you giggled, “get home safely.”

“You too.”

The screen door slammed shut behind you, along with the main door. Your car is parked in the grass patching of the flower shop. You jogged over, and the summer air made you shiver, your back still raw and warm under Vernon’s touch.

You couldn’t wait until the flower shop closed.

If Wonwoo noticed that you moved the porch swing relative to the placement of Nu ABO, he hasn’t brought it up. You weren’t spying on Vernon, no. But your skin was starting to itch with curiosity and in your haste to leave last night, you didn’t even ask what he designed on your back.

“Are you stalking the tattoo guy?”

Despite the voice being petal soft, you flinched. Assistant Manager Joshua Hong with a bouquet of boat lilies, was accusing you of stalking. His Converse tapped rhythmically against the wood paneling, looking down at you like a guilty child.

“What?” you floundered, waving around the florist magazine in your hands. “Josh, I’m studying! And the sun was in my face so I moved the swing.”

“You’re studying,” Joshua flickered his eyes to the run down shack across the road. “The tattoo guy?”

“I already said I wasn’t!”

“Then you’re telling me you spent all last night doing that,” he reached over to tug at your starched work collar, “all by yourself?”

Your hand flew to your neck, as if you were trying to hide Vernon’s hard work. “I just wanna see what he did, all right? And I’m trying to be very patient until closing because if Wonwoo sees me going there,” you jerked a head none-too-gracefully at the direction of the parlor, “he’s gonna tell you-know-who.”

Joshua frowned, because he already knew. After all, he stayed in the back room with you all last night, wiping away your tears. “Well, whoever did it is truly an artist,” he said genuinely, “it’s beautiful.”

Joshua finally left you alone, and you suddenly felt emptier than before. Sure, the breakup with Mingyu was conventionally bad, but why were you so conflicted with your feelings? You didn’t want Mingyu to know you were hanging out with other guys, but you wanted to let go of him. Maybe you were trying too hard too fast.

But Vernon made everything so, so easy.

No, you are not letting him be a rebound. The inner conflict in your head was giving you a massive headache, you couldn’t tell if the vibes you were feeling last night were because of the recent breakup or just an authentic spark.

The storm door shuttered boldly, and you jumped. Wonwoo stepped out, and gave you a weird look. “You alright?”

“Me? Yeah, fine.” You gripped the collar of your shirt and pretended to fasten the buttons.

He was unconvinced, either that or the pinched look he was sporting was an indicator of a bad day. “Listen, I know things are gonna be weird because my best friend is your, y’know,” he trailed off, painfully trudging through this conversation as easily as trudging through quicksand. “He’s gonna stop by a couple more times during the week, doing me a few errands. So if you wanna take the week off, recalibrate before the the month ends, just let me know. ”

“Won, please,” you wanted this to end, “we don’t have to talk about this, alright?”

He awkwardly twirled around his car keys. “Alright.” As simple as that, he threw himself in his sedan and drove off, dirt brushing the pavement.

You glared at the dust cloud until his car was far from your sights, the mustard color blinding your vision. “Honestly,” you said to yourself, finally hopping off your swing into the direction of the shack, “he thinks I’m five and never experienced heartbreak.”

“Welcome to Nu ABO!” this voice was different, and you slowed your steps. It doesn’t quite have the husk that Vernon’s voice held, but definitely matched the energy. The boy stepped out, and his eyes sparkled in recognition. “Flower Girll,” he said to himself, and you suddenly felt like you got caught, “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

"We haven’t,” you replied warily at the pet name, “where’s Vernon?"

"Oh, he’s around.” The guy waved noncommittally to the air in the room, crouching his head to look down at you. He stuffed his hands in his black overalls, which covered a painfully bright rainbow tye-dye tee. “Curious to see Vern’s ink though. He’s only ever done small stuff.”

“I thought he wasn’t an apprentice.”

He flicked his wrist around to show you a beautiful line of Chinese calligraphy. "Keep the secret between us, ‘kay?” He winked.

“Minghao, leave her alone.” Vernon stepped out of the small bathroom hidden in the artist room, a white towel behind his neck. You took in his disheveled appearance. His face was red from washing his face, and he wore the same clothes from yesterday. “Hey.” He said.

“Hi,” you replied, “did you sleep here last night?"

"Uh, yeah.” Vernon rubbed at his neck again, and stuffed the towel in his backpack. “I usually do the morning and afternoon shifts, I covered for this guy last night,” he jabbed his fist in Minghao’s shoulder, “but still had to do my day shift.”

“So,” Minghao rocked back and forth in his boots, “why are you here?”

You suddenly felt self-conscious, and gripped your phone between your two palms. A little part of you was disappointed that Vernon was not alone, but another part of you was relieved. It helped slow down the pace of your feelings (feelings?) that was heading in a direction you were not anticipating. “I wanted to say thank you again for last night.” You coughed, and Minghao grinned wider at your explanation. “And I was wondering if you could take a picture of my back? I haven’t had a chance to look at it.”

He beamed, and you could tell he was happy that you wanted to document his work. “Oh, of course! I completely forgot last night.”

Vernon moved to grab your phone, but Minghao swiped a hand in front of him. “Can I take your photo?” He asked you, although the look in his eyes said that you didn’t have much of a choice.

Your cheeks burned at the sudden intrusion. “Huh?”

“I mean, have you seen this guy’s Insta?” Minghao scoffed, albeit playfully as Vernon mirrored your flush.

“What are you talking about?” Vernon exclaimed, thoroughly insulted, “my profile is tastefully abstract.”

“It looks like it was tastefully done by a three year old.” Minghao pulled out his iPhone, and adjusted the filters. “I’m doing you a favor here, Flower Girl.”

You looked warily at Vernon, who slumped in defeat, “If you’re going for that e-girl vibe, I guess Hao’s a better photographer.”

“Better than your pictures coming out blurry.” Minghao shot back, holding the camera to your face. “There’s no light in here,” Minghao glared at the singular window in their tiny studio, the sill decorated with a single jade succulent. “Got any ideas?"

Vernon shrugged, "You said I have the taste of a three year old, so."

With Wonwoo gone for the day, you realized that you did have an idea of where you could take a tasteful picture. The thrill excited and terrified you. You only wanted a simple picture to see what it looked like, but Minghao looked as equally as excited to see your ink. Maybe it was the fact that the art was fleeting or that Vernon was really that talented, but it encouraged you to offer the setting up.

"I think our greenhouse has plenty of light,” you gestured out the studio’s only window, which was in perfect view of the flower shop. “We should be closing up soon, so it’s free."

Minghao nodded approvingly, "We can try."

And with a hasty "be back @ 4:20!” sign taped on the front door to Nu ABO, the three of them walked across the street to the greenhouse.

You went in first, nearly bumping into Joshua who was bent over, pot in hand.

“Hey Josh,” you grabbed the keys from the front desk, “borrowing the greenhouse."

"Hey Josh,” Minghao and Vernon mimicked, who found it amusing that you just brushed by without an introduction.

You rolled your eyes, hearing them exchange pleasantries and bro fists. The plexiglass doors to the greenhouse unlocked with a turn of your key, the smell of heat and grassy rain hitting your nostrils. Joshua placed the pot somewhere, following suit as the boys were right behind you.

“Awesome,” Minghao exhaled, stepping further into the greenhouse. It was a small one, but comfortable enough for a couple patrons to browse around. “I’m gonna move around some plants if that’s okay, I gotta vision.”

Joshua looked a little frazzled watching Minghao talk to himself and start moving the settings around (“The hydrangeas don’t go there, are you crazy?”) and started helping Minghao move the pots and placements around. You and Vernon hung around the entrance, giggling to yourselves.

You tried to bump his shoulder, which didn’t even reach his. “So, what’s your Insta handle?”

He quirked his brows at that, “Why, so you can judge my aesthetic too?”

“No,” you replied, faking your shock. “I would never insult your taste!”

With a roll of his eyes he said, “Speaking of taste, since your shift is over and my shift is over,” Vernon rocked back and forth on his feet. “Wanna grab a bite?”

Something’s fluttering in your stomach, and you stomp it down. It’s an innocent invite, yes. Unfortunately it was not-so-innocent in your twisted mind knowing that you are still fresh from a breakup, yet your backed is marked with Vernon’s work. “You must be tired though,” you tried to reason, “you should get some rest, I don’t wanna bother you.”

“Not a bother,” he said immediately, “besides, I wanna ask you something.”

That got you curious. Before you had a chance to ask, Minghao was ushering you over, telling you to stand in front of a bundle of orchids. They’ve bloomed a Canary yellow, encasing you in a golden ring of flowers overlooking the terrace. The new friend has gestured for you to undo your shirt and he turned away in respect. It’s different with an audience and an expectation. You made haste to undo the buttons of your blouse, then your bra, throwing it aside. You felt the warm, moist air kiss your back, and you heard a low whistle coming from Minghao.

“Beautiful,” Minghao exhaled, “Vern, you’ve outdone yourself."

Beautiful. Vernon made you beautiful.

Your body was simmering, and you could do nothing as you let Minghao photograph you. You focused your eyes on a puddle dripping from a faucet in front of you, counting the seconds between each droplet.

“And, done.”

You shoved on your clothes, and felt extra awkward as you fumbled to reach for the straps of your bra. You nearly slipped on the puddle as you walked back to the boys, who were busy over Minghao’s shoulder.

“Super awesome,” Minghao handed you the phone brightly, “so much texture and feeling.”

The screen showed a halo of foliage that surrounded your bare back, blush orchids kissing the frame with color. Your work shirt bundled under your hips, and fell under your elbows to reveal a city sky. You were breathless, zooming in to capture every detail of the ink. A navy sky, blanketing buildings across your back in a diagonal, splaying from the bottom right to the top left. On the bottom, skyscrapers reaching for the stars.

If you zoomed in enough, you could tell that the stars were shaped like roses.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve said thank you in the past two days,” you started, causing Vernon to grin widely. “But thank you, I’ve never felt so beautiful.”

Vernon scoffed, “I didn’t do anything, I’ve only enhanced your beauty. That’s our shtick.”

You handed Minghao back your phone and thanked him. He then rushed off, saying he had to stay at the parlor since Yoongi was coming soon. Immediately, Joshua began putting back the plants in their rightful places. You and Vernon followed suit, starting with the smaller ones.

“So,” Vernon picked up a tray of succulents, “are we still on for dinner?”

Wide-eyed Joshua crept in-between the foliage, laughably appearing under a series of hanging plants like a madman. “Dinner?” he asked, looking between you two.

“Yeah man,” Vernon reached to pull Joshua away from the plants, “wanna come?”

Simultaneously disappointed and relieved, you let out a subconscious exhale. Joshua was coming, which meant that there would be no possibility for feeling weird (or catching feels), being awkward or fighting any oncoming feelings with Vernon.

"On Thursdays there’s this really good half-off sushi deal by my place. We can take out and eat at my apartment?” Joshua’s kindness was palpable at the offering of his home, and the both of you smiled gratefully.

Not more than two hours later, the three of you are bundled away in Joshua’s two-room, empty boxes of carryout stacked high. The television was playing reruns of Full House, the only source of light in the dim space.

“Are you gonna go home soon?” Vernon asked, and turned his head to the corner of the room. Joshua is cuddled up in the single couch, tucked in a wearable blanket with the armholes.

You shrugged, “I dunno. Usually I crash here for sushi nights,” you patted the couch lovingly, “This is my second bed.”

Vernon chuckled, tucking his feet under his thighs. It made him look impossibly small in comparison to how tall and lanky he actually was.

“So, what did you want to ask me?”

Vernon looked between his legs, as if he were trying to piece his words together. “Long story short, I got waitlisted at my top graduate school option,” he then pulled up his phone, revealing the picture of your back that was taken that afternoon, “but I was thinking that if I made a portfolio of this kind of art, it would really tip my application over the edge. Originally I was thinking of just sending my usual art, but it just popped in my head today while we were doing it.” He looked up through his eyelashes, wisps of copper looking expectantly at you. “If you’re comfortable with it, would you be my canvas?”

“Live art,” you surmised, “honestly, I’m honored that you would want me to be a part of something so big. You think I’m that good?”

No, you weren’t doubting Vernon’s art one bit. The fact that your back would be out on display for a bunch of strangers was unnerving, to say the least.

“Are you kidding?” Vernon zoomed out of the image, revealing the curve of your back and the generation of life reflected in the greenhouse. “This is wicked. You’re stunning. We’d make a great team!”

You felt your body heat at the statement. His presence was almost too refreshing, and you wanted to return the favor of helping you out last night.

“Lucky for you,” you shot a quick text to Wonwoo, “I’ve planned to take this week off.”

Over the course of the week Vernon wanted to do an artistic timeline of sorts, adding and retouching the already existing ink on your back until the canvas was full. It felt fulfilling, letting yourself become a vessel of success for someone. The following day, Vernon shot you a text revealing his portfolio, and said how excited he was to see you.

You met in the shack after his shift, and Vernon let you into the office and locked the door. You can hear the rap being played in the artist room where Minghao and Yoongi were working with a client.

The artist was muttering to himself as he invited you to sit at the couch. Something about whether he wanted to start from the “top-down” or “bottom-up.” Instead of contributing to his madness, you turned away from him and started shedding your shirt. Today was a plain cotton shirt, and you shucked it off and balled it in your arms.

No less than five seconds was Vernon’s hands on your back, and despite the warmth radiating from his fingertips, you couldn’t help but shiver. Vernon had explained that while he did a large portion of your back the first time, there was still room for growth and he wanted your back filled by the end of the week.

“Do you mind if I,” his hand hovered over your bra.

You shook your head, and with his thumb and forefinger he flicked off both your bra straps with ease. Your hands flooded themselves in the fabric of your t-shirt, which silently accepted your death grip.

“Sorry, do you feel weird?” He definitely sensed your lack of vocality, and put one strap back in case.

“I’m fine,” your voice is light, what else could you say?

“Whatever you say,” he hummed, and resumed his work.

You opt to take in the sounds. Minghao laughed about something in the other room, coupled with the zing of the needle. The music pulled to a stop and boomeranged back into a smoother arrangement.

“I think we’ll start from the bottom-up and build from there,” he then placed his hands around your waist, poking at the dive between your waist and your bottom.

There’s an unmistakable heat that pooled within you, which caused you to wring your shirt harder. It was going to be a long week.

By Wednesday, he was in your apartment, working on the sides of your waist. The day after every session, Vernon would take a picture of yesterday’s work and show it to you. A gummy grin would always take over his face, either proud of himself or happy that you loved the new addition.

Despite the fact that the only thing covering your body was a thin gown medical taken from the shop, every pore of your body felt unbelievably hot. You really shouldn’t be mixing alcohol on a Wednesday night, but Vernon was excited that he was halfway done with the project and it was time to be “poppin’ bottles.”

You felt a little drowsy as a result of that, but nothing terrible. Like he said, the feeling was cathartic.

“Aren’t you drunk too?” you murmured into your navy blue whale plush, “what if you accidentally stab me?”

Vernon laughed, and it shook the couch. You couldn’t see his face as he sat on the floor, getting in the crevices of your skin. He poked at your skin a little harder than usual, as if he were testing the possibility. “That’d still take a lot of strength.”

“You’d be surprised,” you sighed, “those little sticks florists use to keep the babies upright? Flat as a thumb and I still manage to impale tomatoes with them.” He doesn’t respond to that, and you’re left drowning in your own answer. You wondered if he truly thought you were a crazy tomato-killer, or was concentrated on detailing a particular patch of skin. “Can I tell you a secret?” you blurted, “honestly, I think flowers are beautiful, but I really hate working at the florist. The only reason I’m doing it is because Joshua really needed the help and he knew I wasn’t going to do shit until my city job starts in September.”

“Huh,” Vernon stopped, resting the heel of his hand on your back. “That’s funny. Explains all the cursing when you’re cutting roses outside.”

“You’ve watched me outside?” you grinned into your cushion, “creepy much?”

“Do you wanna know a secret?” Vernon blurted, evading your question with one of his own, “I’ve had the biggest crush on you since you came by in May.”

You tensed, and if Vernon noticed, he didn’t react. He kept on doing his business, marking your back with baby’s breath. It had to be the alcohol talking. If he drank at all, you couldn’t even tell because you couldn’t get up and he was strikingly coherent. All this time, and you didn’t even notice?

“You don’t have to answer,” he said, as if he knew you were strung speechless. “I just, wanted to say it. We’re cool.”

And you agreed, pretending to fall asleep.

Friday was around the corner before you knew it, and Vernon wanted to photograph the final piece where it all started. The greenhouse was devoid of human life at the crack of dawn, unless you counted Joshua who was asleep on the counter because he was the only one with a key that knew of your recent escapades with Vernon.

Vernon was just as tired as you are, but he was adamant about having the photo taken at dawn, as the first picture was taken in the late day. There was some contrived symbolism attached to it that you didn’t really understand, but you trusted his vision. Besides, your panda eyes wouldn’t be revealed in the photo, so you could master the art of sleeping upright while he took photos.

“Alright,” Vernon set up his camera. He was dressed in a university zip up and matching sweatpants, like he just rolled out of bed. “Everything’s set up, whenever you’re ready.”

Likewise with you, and you pulled off your hoodie, not bothering with a bra. Despite the fact that the room was temperature controlled, the cold morning air still managed to worm its way to your bare top. You quickly rubbed down your gooseflesh with your palms.

You two engaged in a comfortable silence as you tested out your poses and he adjusted his frame. After a couple of practice shots, the air seemed calmer.

“Cold?” Vernon asked casually.

“Anything that isn’t under the sheets of my bed is cold as hell,” you muttered, trailing your fingers delicately across your waist.

“That’s a nice pose,” Vernon said to himself, “we’re almost done. Then you can go to bed for the rest of your day. Unless you’re down for breakfast?"

You two still haven’t spoken about his little confession the other day, but in all honesty there was no reason to bring it up. Your lives were going in different directions, and you knew Vernon deserved more than a halfhearted summer fling.

"I think I’m down for bed and breakfast,” you replied wryly.

“Smart girl,” Vernon chuckled, “can you change your pose for me? Like, pretend that you’re stretching.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that, so you ended up flexing your arms in different directions.

“No, we’re not doing yoga.” He let his camera swing around his neck as he rushed over to you. The sun was a soft white, the antithesis of golden hour as you two rushed to make the magic happen. He grabbed your arms from behind, twisting the left wris in an unusual angle.

"Ah, Vernon!” You jerked around to face him, now fully awake. “I’m not a Barbie doll, you can’t just move me like that."

Vernon doesn’t respond. He let go of you as soon as you screamed, eyes blown wide and pupils a thick black. His stare is frozen to yours, and his hand is in mid-air, a centimeter away from your bare breasts.

"Oh,” you said, “did I whack you with my boob when I turned?"

"Yeah, you boobed me.” Vernon looked afraid to stare anywhere but your face. “I’m so sorry."

"It’s okay,” you bit the inside of your lip, “I don’t mind if you touch me there."

Now, Vernon looked terrified.

It’s been a long week. A long, surreal week. You wanted to tell Vernon about your conflicted feelings, you wanted to ask about his little crush, and what on earth did he find appealing about you. You wanted to tell him how much you trusted him with your body, and how you wanted him to do more to you than just ink.

It’s then, the gaping boy shook himself together. His hands encircled your neck, haloing at the finishing piece of his work, an echelon moon. Vernon’s fingers trailed to cup your face, and you felt your whole body warm in anticipation. Patient, you waited for his carmine eyes to flutter shut, and you smiled, finally closing yours—

"The fuck is this?"

In an instant, the air was sucked out of you like a blackhole, and Vernon immediately shielded you, throwing his jacket across you like a towel.

"Mingyu,” you said shakily, clutching the cotton coat tighter around your form.

It’s then that a no-longer bleary-eyed Joshua stumbled into the greenhouse, seconds too late.

Mingyu threw down the sack of fertilizer he hauled on his back, black dirt smattering the floor. “Its been barely a week and you’re fucking someone in the greenhouse, of all places?” Mingyu was angry, plain and simple. “I thought we agreed on a break."

"You agreed on a break,” your thighs were numb from leaning on them, but Vernon’s hand on your back encouraged you to get on your feet. “I agreed that two years was too long to wait."

"And who are you?” Mingyu squinted his eyes at Vernon.

“He’s none of your business,” you stepped in front of him, tugging his hoodie closer around your frame.

Mingyu’s face fell in realization, and he looked between you two with forlornness that made your stomach churn. “C’mon baby,” your nails embedded themselves in your palm at the jab, “can we go outside and talk about this?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” your voice was paper thin, but loud enough for Mingyu to hear across the room, “I’d prefer you leave us alone, and do not talk to me ever again.”

It took all your composure to turn around, and you glared a hole into Vernon’s chest. You felt your body bleed goosebumps around your arms and legs, not out of weather, but out of anxiety. You hugged yourself to shut the prickly feeling down. You heard Joshua do the only helpful thing this morning and it’s his soft utterances that finally pulled Mingyu out of the greenhouse. ,

What’s left is the drip of the hose, and the two of you, unmoved.

Thankful for the silence, you looked up at your companion, who was speechless. Vernon’s lower lip was puckered out slightly, face contorted as if to say I’m sorry, that kinda sucked. The tell-tale signs of emotional overload began to prick at your eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you wiped your face. Since when did you start crying? “I’m so sorry that I let all of this happen, and I let myself let this happen, and I’m such a mess and I’ve been trying to hide it all this time, but I’m selfish and I just wanted to see what would turn out of it.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Vernon tried to lighten up the mood, and offered you an easy smile and reached for a hug.

“I’m sorry because I don’t know if I like you or not!” you outburst, and pushed him out of arm’s reach. “I feel so fucking guilty I just got out of a relationship and I can’t tell if I like you or I like your attention, honestly. And it isn’t fair because you’re just so sweet and kind and easy to love. Either way at the end of the summer I’m moving into the city for my full-time job. And I, I, I don’t know!”

Vernon forced his way into your space, barely a foot apart. He didn’t touch you, but his warmth still emanated from the jacket you were wearing. He didn’t seem upset, then again you were probably upset enough for the both of you.

“Hey, I offered to do your back because I knew you needed a distraction,” Vernon said softly, “no strings attached, ever. You do you, right? Focus on yourself.”

You wished he was mean about this. It would’ve made it easier. “What if this is the last time we talk? What if I want to ignore you for the rest of the summer?” you murmured, already knowing you. should enjoy these final moments.

“We’ll live,” he shrugged, and finally broke the space between you. His lips planted themselves between your forehead, melting away the lines that marred your brows apart, “and we’ll heal.”

The city was daring. The city was unforgiving.

You tugged your scarf closer around your neck, which constricted your airflow but also prevented any possible windchill from slicing your neck. In your other hand you were hauling a week’s worth of work in a luggage that had once packed your things in August and sent you to this very career path.

As much as you loved your new life, you wished things would be a little more boundless. The box of your workspace, the box of the elevator, and the box of your goshiwon apartment were starting to feel particularly stifling this weekend.

It was Friday (or FriYay, as your co-workers dubbed) and that meant a weekend vegging out with a comfort meal and a new movie. There was a Burger King and a Gongcha under your apartment complex, both calling your name.

Boba and burgers, the perfect way to end a week.

You munched on your fries as you scanned the Gongcha menu, craving something sweet to contrast with your salty meal.

It is then a low, sultry whisper sauntered in your direction (in a Gongcha, with children) and you almost choked on your fry. “I would know that back anywhere,” the offender drawled.

What a strange pick-up line. The paper bag crinkled in your grip, and you turn around to see a familiar perky face in a scarlet Adidas tracksuit. Of all the places, he was here.

“Hey, Flower Girl.” Minghao greeted, wiggling his fingers in a wave. He was on a tall stool, long legs splayed out and a cup of oolong milk tea hung lazily in his grip. His cup was at least 50% ice, and he was shaking the cup like a rattle every ten seconds.

“Normally, people would start with a simple hello,” you replied wryly, ushering him over to wait with you in line.

“Normally,” Minghao shrugged, and slipped an arm around your shoulders as if you were long lost friends, “how have you been doing? Planting gardens for the spring?”

“Please,” you scoffed. To Joshua and Wonwoo’s chagrin, you’ve forgotten a lot since the summer. “I can’t even make a corsage anymore, my brain’s on overload. What about you?”

It looked like he was waiting for you to ask that. You barely got your order in before he started spitting out his story. “Didn’t you hear?” Obviously you didn’t, and he didn’t give you a chance to answer. “Two letters. RM.” Again, nothing. “The RM? The hottest rapper in Korea? Anyway, he was one of our clients in August—he got a sick design of a koala and an alpaca, cooler than you think—and gave us a massive tip on his Instagram story. We were famous overnight! We were getting crazy clients left and right—fuckin’ Sana wanted a little heart on her sternum, hottest thing.”

“So you were able to relocate the parlor to the city?”

“The big push was when Yoongi dropped RM his demo,” he shook his cup furiously, ice clanging, as if he never got tired of this story. “Like, I didn’t even know they were texting! I’ve been running the parlor mostly, I’ve always wanted to live in the city, but RM funded a lot of it and is helping Yoongi make his mix.”

In the back of your head, the question of an aspiring grad student was niggling in your brain, but you pushed it down. “So, if Yoongi’s working on his demo and you’re supposed to be running the parlor, why aren’t you there now?” you asked.

He stared at you as if it were the most obvious choice. “Because I’m here, drinking boba with you.” Minghao then grabbed your finished drink from the employee’s hand, ushering you out the door. “And now you’re going to follow me, because my break was over fifteen minutes ago.”

“What?”

“I have your boba,” he’s already out the door, waving your precious beverage like a fish to its line. “Hurry up, now I’m sixteen minutes late!”

You groaned, lugging your suitcase full of work and now cold french fries back into the freezing weather. The wheels of your suitcase are cracking in exhaustion, mirroring yours. You just wanted your damn milk tea, hot fries, and a Netflix catch-up. What was the point of following Minghao to Nu ABO, when there was no reason to be there other than …

“Oof!” your face slammed into Minghao’s back. The light was red. “Did Vernon move here too?”

“Duh, who else would be covering for me?”

“You’re trying to set me up!” You cried in betrayal, jabbing him in chest with your finger. “Y'know what, I’m just going to get another boba. You keep that.”

You two glared at each other. Minghao looked relentless, ignoring whoever was bumping into him on the streets. His eyes suddenly glinted to your rolling luggage, and he snatched it from your grip, running into the streets.

“Can’t replace your work, right?” He laughed, forcing you to chase him down the block.

You felt sweat start to develop on your back, contrasting with the icy weather. Your work blazer and pinstripe loafers were not suited for vigorous activity. Minghao has an unfair advantage, being tall and athletic, and you had just finished half a bag of Burger King. Damn him.

Minghao stopped in front of a sunken in building, with stairs leading downwards to a neon-lit parlor with the name glittering in electric periwinkle font. Flustered, you gasp at the cold air, finally able to stop. Despite having lost your breath ten meters ago, you managed to tell Minghao you’re proud that they have a real parlor.

Your heart was beating in your ears, and you can’t tell whether it was because you haven’t worked out in months, or because Vernon was behind that door.

Minghao dumped your luggage behind the reception area, and went straight into the artist room. This new parlor was much bigger, so when Minghao disappeared into a hallway he was out of your sight. You wait around, letting yourself sink into the familiar hip hop playlist. There are pictures littering the walls, all covered with a clean black frame. You see Yoongi and the supposed RM, sporting his koala and alpaca ink (which actually did look sick) and some photos of Minghao’s work, all of his designs being simultaneously colorful and graceful.

It’s then in the epicenter of this wall is a long black frame that cut across the horizon, seven images of a woman with flowers and stars inking her back.

Your back.

“Beautiful, right? I’m sure it takes you back.” Minghao was over your shoulder, flicking his fingers between the photos. “Lots of customers have requested these designs. He never makes them the same way, though.”

Instead of answering, you followed Minghao down the hallway and into the artist room. Vernon had just finished with a client. Poking in head first, you saw him ticking off protocol off a printed list, speaking concisely. The client was listening intently, and you see he has an arm sleeve with peonies. It’s then he noticed Minghao intruding once more, and frowned.

“Dude, you got milk tea without me?” Vernon said, affronted.

“Ya didn’t ask.” Minghao vigorously shook the ice in your tea like a baby rattle.

“You didn’t mention it, therefore I couldn’t have asked.”

“You’re so smart, Hannie,” he beamed at him like a proud parent complimenting his son, “that’s why he’s going to grad school.”

You let yourself in fully, and you felt shy as Vernon’s lips parted slightly upon realizing who his second guest was.

“Hey,” Vernon exhaled, and gave you a small smile. He looked happy, content. As handsome as ever, he ran a gloved hand through his hair, soft curls bouncing as he shifted around the parting. “This is uh, a surprise.” his eyes flickered to Minghao, who held his arms out in a passive shrug. “A good one to end the week.”

“Hi,” you bit your lip, feeling shy, “so, you decided to get certified and you’re going to grad school? I missed out on a lot.”

“That’s okay, we got time.” Vernon assured, “besides the fact that I got a project due tomorrow morning that I’ve barely started, and then I have a field trip I gotta go to on Sunday—”

Before it could drag on any longer, Minghao hacked out a very loud, and very fake cough. You broke out of the rêve, and muttered a “gimmie that” before snatching your precious bubble tea out of Minghao’s hand.

Vernon mirrored the cough, more out of embarrassment than annoyance. “Lemme finish up with this client, yeah?” And he jerked his head back to the patient, going on about safety.

Minghao led you out of the room, whispering a “you’re welcome” in your ear that taunted you for the rest of the night.

Vernon finished at 5, just like he did back in the little shack at university square. He came out in a 2XL neon green hoodie, leading the client out the door and telling him to “take it easy”. As soon as the client’s gone, he comes over to you. You’re still staring at your pictures, as if you couldn’t believe that you were on display, looking like a tasteful nude model.

“Hi again,” he said, dusting the imaginary dirt off his pants.

“Hi,” you replied, feeling tingly at the sound of his voice. Did you really miss him that much?

"Um, is it cool if I hug you?"

It certainly has been awhile. You nodded, unsure if you could form a coherent response because you could tell Vernon was blushing and he was being too damn adorable for you to handle.

Upon permission, he brightened. The warmth of his cotton hoodie enveloped you like the way hot chocolate feels after a cold day. You breathed in his scent, realizing how much you missed the scent of fresh laundry, especially on him.

"How are you?” He asked casually.

“Uh, m'okay.” You answered softly, “a little cold nowadays."

He hugged you tighter in response. With one more squeeze he let himself go, but kept you at an arm’s length. "Wanna get dinner?"

You looked at him funny, "didn’t you say you had a project due tomorrow morning that you haven’t started?"

Without missing a beat he altered, "Wanna get takeout? I’ll do work and eat while,” his eyes darted to your luggage, “you do work?"

While you wanted to say that it was Friday (FriYay!) and you weren’t planning to open Pandora’s Box until Sunday night, you obliged and followed him to his place.

On the way over, Vernon got his well-needed milk tea (and your second round) with two matching cartons of jajangmyeon. You trailed behind him rather than next to him, due to the fact that he was also lugging a Joshua-sized canvas on his back. In fear of being knocked out or ruining his work, you settled for walking a meter apart.

Vernon lived on the second floor of his complex. You imagined a sizable one-room similar to your goshiwon, but you’re in awe when you see a fully furnished living room and kitchen. You smiled at the singular jade plant decorating the windowsill, one you remembered as Patricia Planty one session months ago. The hardwood was so shiny you could see your reflection in them. Kicking off your shoes, you stumbled over the kitchen countertop, reveling at the onyx granite.

"I’ve never seen this much granite in my entire life!” You cried, spreading your hands over the cool rock. It was so well polished, you could see your reflection. He was certainly living the high life this year.

Vernon shook his head, setting the take out down and pulling out the containers. “It’s RM’s old place. I rent it out with the guys."

"God, this is ten times better than my place! Your kitchen is bigger than my apartment!"

He flicked your bowl of jajangmyeon over to your side of the countertop, the sauce and noodles premixed for you. "Eat up, babe.” He stuffed a radish in his mouth, now working to mix his own noodles, “we got a lotta catchin’ up to do."

Whether it was your hunger or the casual use of the word "babe”, you abandoned the granite for now and did as told.

An hour later, you’re flipping through their mounted TV, taking full advantage of their Disney+ subscription as Vernon is laying on the floor.

“I thought you were working,” you chastised, letting yourself sink further into their couch. It was like resting on a big, fluffy marshmallow. You never wanted to leave.

Vernon is splayed out like a starfish, papers and watercolors spread around him. His large body stood out against the white linoleum floor, his neon green hoodie reflecting on the shiny surface. “I am.” he replied blandly, “I’m waiting for lightning to hit me with a burst of inspiration."

"Grad school’s biting you in the butt?"

"Big time."

Another bout of silence hit the two of you, and it was surprisingly nice. You finally started to notice that Vernon is picking up some art utensils and is doodling something. (He still is on the floor and hasn’t sat up properly, but progress is progress.)

It felt oddly domestic, but you didn’t mind. There was no need to ask about the past, Kim Mingyu, or any other silly drama you two entrapped yourselves into last summer. What mattered now was the warmth of each other’s presence on this chilly night.

Your eyes are heavy and fighting against the long day, and before you know it, you’re asleep just as Rapunzel escapes Gothel’s tower.

You haven’t awoken to the morning sun in a long, long time. While the notion sounded awfully depressing (because it was), you really didn’t have much of a choice because the goshiwon was closet sized, and closets had no windows. But today, the sun blasted you, forcing you up. This was accompanied by the the tell-tale sounds of breakfast, which was weird because you only ever ate cold food in your room, because there was zero ventilation. The scent of dark roast muddled your senses, forcing you awake. You twitched at the sudden stench, and snapped your back straight. Were your walls always this pristine white?

"Didn’t know you were this early in the game, Flower Girl."

You never went home. While Vernon was long gone and probably off presenting some haphazard art, Minghao and Yoongi (for the first time, in the flesh!) were watching you from their marbled island, while you rubbed the crusties out of your eyes. "Usually, encroaching on a significant other’s apartment is reserved for the 5th or 6th date.” Minghao teased, waving his Nutella toast in your face.

“Oh, shut up,” you glared at Yoongi, who was slowly chewing on his own toast. There’s was black spark in his eyes, like he’s relishing on whatever has unfolded. “And you, you. I know this is the first time we’ve met and you haven’t said a word. But shut up too. Your thoughts are awfully loud.”

You’re embarrassed, and you pull up your hands to mediate your fired cheeks. Instead of your palms, you feel worn cotton dabbing at your face. You wiggled your fingers under the neon green hoodie. Vernon put on his clothes for you to wear. You were in a very uncompromising position, and his roommates were reveling every second of it.

Yoongi shrugged, throwing you a flippant grin. “Whatever you say, Flower Girl.”

Contact emerged in the form of texts and images. You wondered how Vernon managed to keep things casual in light of how sudden your meeting was, but you relished in the way things fell naturally.

[February 19, 2:10PM]

Vern: Is this still your number

Vern: If so, here’s what i submitted for my project

Vern: IMG.934

Vern: if not, pls enjoy this picture of a pink platypus. the medium was watercolor nd if you’re curious, i got the idea from sunsets and phineas and ferb. Enjoy your day

You: hey look, there’s perry

Vern: nice

Vern: wait, this doesn’t confirm if ur u or a stranger

Vern: are u just a perry enthusiast

Vern: evidence pls

[February 19th, 6:08PM]

You: IMG.48

[February 20th, 12:22AM]

Vern: ooh

Vern: look cute in my hoodie

You’ve toggled with the idea of just cutting straight through the bush and asking him out the next time you see him in person. A little part of you liked the chase, however. That feeling where you’re tugging between friendship and something more, and you can’t help but feel like you’re fifteen everytime his name popped up in your messages. You self-dubbed it the-honeymoon-to-the-honeymoon phase.

[February 27, 5:34PM]

Vern: what are you up to

You: it’s hour 32. I’ve been under the covers and have survived solely on celery and honey-butter chips. currently binging all netflix comedies. debating on whether to send for help otherwise i may never get up

Vern: that’s the spirit

By the time two weeks passed, you felt confident enough to ride off the mutually weird text messages and constant contact to meet with him. By then, you’re knees deep in the honeymoon-to-the-honeymoon phase. You’re languidly floating in that river, hoping you’re not rushing it by agitating the waters.

[March 8th, 10:10PM]

You: hey

You: you up?

Vern: nah. mastered the art of sleep textin

You: just wanted to ask if you could help me pick out a tatt that would fit me

You: if you were available. I’ve heard from the mullet-monster that you’re a hot commodity drowning in appts and deadlines

Vern: wait forreal?

Vern: i can pencil u in. tomorrow night @11?

You: so soon? What happened to being busy

Vern: not for u. Already have an idea in mind

By the time you arrived Saturday night, Minghao was slapping your back across the door, gabbing on about a “major banger” they were missing uptown. He looked the part, the only person you knew that could fill out an all-studded denim fit. Like a disco ball at a rodeo. He barely said good-bye before he hopped in a Lyft, cheering for freedom.

You poked your head into the artist room, and saw Vernon playing on his phone. His fist dug into his cheek, carob pupils glazed over. You almost felt bad for wanting his attention this late.

“You usually do the day shift,” you commented quietly, holding up a bag with two milk teas in hand.

Vernon looked up, illuminating in a half-smile. “Y’know me, always covering. Just for the hour though, this shouldn’t take long since we’re just looking at ideas.”

He slapped a hand on the client chair. This one was much better than the cot they had in their shack. This one was pure leather and gleamed high quality. You placed your drinks on the countertop and eagerly bounced onto the seat. “Comfy,” you murmured, and wriggled your sneaker-clad feet.

“Good,” there’s a sharp snap from the plastic seal and Vernon is sipping into his milk tea seconds after you put it down. He’s chewing on a particularly large gulp, gnawing on pearls like no one’s business. With his rolling chair, he slid over to you, seamlessly reaching for your wrist.

If he noticed that you’re wearing a particular neon item, he doesn’t comment. He turned on the overhead lamp, letting a soft white light bathe your form. When he finally spoke, he chanted your name in a sing-song, tapping your wrist in beat. It’s as if he were envisioning the color blooming on your skin.

You let him do his thing, and he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery. You see pictures of his friends, some of his family, and digital art. He scrolled slower at the myriad of images: a colorful orca, lavender constellations, and budding roses.

You were seeing a lot of flowers nowadays, with the burgeoning of spring and the recent ending of Valentine’s. It’s only now that you notice how apparent the theme is throughout the parlor, particularly in Vernon’s affinity.

“Why don’t you call me it?” you asked softly, peering over his form to see him mulled over a picture of periwinkle lupines.

“Huh,” he’s distracted, and has now swiped back to the colorful orca image.

“Flower Girl,” you uttered, “they call me that, but you don’t.”

Vernon clicked his phone down, the lupines flicked away. He peered at you through his lashes, the white overhead making his eyes appreciably bright. “Before I knew your name,” he started slow, making faces to himself as if he were debating on whether to tell you, “I’d call you Rose. You were always by the rose bush planted outside the shop.”

“Avoiding work,” you crinkled your nose, however relished in the endearment, “being named after a rose is too big a compliment.”

He snorted, “That’s what they said. Hence, Flower Girl was born,” he’s easy about it, but now he’s put his phone down and is rubbing circles in your wrist. You wonder if he felt how clammy your palms were getting from the minute intimacy.

“You know what flower I’d compare to you?” you asked, “freesias.”

“And what do those mean?”

“Thoughtfulness,” the pad of his thumb still lingered on your skin, his grip painfully apparent. “And renewal.”

“Why renewal?”

“Because,” you swallowed, “you make me feel renewed. And this time I’m sure it’s because it’s you.”

Vernon looked like he wanted to smile, trying so very hard not to embarass you whilst you poured your heart out with delicacy. His coral lips were tucked in a thin line, teeth biting at his lower lip. Drop by drop, he was going to accept that dew with as much care as possible. “Only me,” he inquired, pressing into your pulse.

Your mouth was sand dry. “Uh-huh.” You exhaled a breath long clutched in your throat, hot air fanning into Vernon’s face. He paid no mind, and (to no avail) was still trying to hold in his smile. “You’re dimples are showing,” you whined, poking the little dip in his cheeks with your free hand. “Use your words.”

“Like?” he elongated, playing dumb. You supposed you earned his brand of torture, after all, seven months is a long time to make up for.

“Like how we want the same thing?” you tried.

“How do you know I want what you want?” he feigned, furrowing his thick brows. Acting could’ve been another career possibility for him, portrayed by the way his eyes were blown with confusion, his mouth parted like a kitten.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Forget words!” you broke, nearly shaking from the nerves.

It’s then that Vernon finally gave you a concrete response. His grip on your wrist was near painful as he eagerly tugged you closer, kissing you. There’s enthusiasm in every action from the way he pulled you closer, large hands melding to cup your cheeks. A little part of you is both breathless and invigorated at the energy stinging the room, and you can barely keep up until Vernon spilled kisses down your neck.

He threw up the armrest holding him back, tucking his knee between your legs as he lapped you up, kissing you fully. The chair was much too small for the both of you, his large body pressing you further into the cushions.

He sat up a bit, bumping his head on the lamp. He paid no mind. “By the way, I like you, too.” Vernon puttered cheekily, rubbing his scalp. Just as swiftly, he latches onto your neck and sucks at a sensitive spot. You can feel his teeth showing from the smile in his kisses. His thumbs rubbed lazily over your jaw, enjoying the feel of your soft skin under his rough palms.

“Really,” you exhaled, relaxing against the headrest as Vernon’s wandering hands traveled lower. “Had no idea.”

“But I’m happy,” Vernon is fumbly and sweet, mumbling in the crook of your neck while his fingers toyed with the waistband of your sweatpants, “happy you’ve healed, and happy for us.”

He’s excited, almost too excited. The space between you two was warm, the lamp beating under your skin, awakening something between you two that was left behind that summer. It’s as if winter left him dormant, and you were the fresh flower waiting to be bloomed under his touch.

“Are you always,” you gasped, two fingers already worming their way inside your panties, “talkative at this part?”

“Not if you wanna talk,” and the ever-zealous Vernon Chwe gets to work, sticking out his tongue in surprise when he finds that you’re already drenched. “Shit, you’re so beautiful,” he holds onto that word dearly, and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to hold you like this,” he reached for your delicious bud, and you felt your senses flower into pleasure.

He makes a noise, low in his throat as he watched you melt against the seat. “I like you like this,” he said thickly, his voice matching the slick sounds emitting from yourself. “Comfy, relaxed. You always looked so stuffy in those work suits,” you feel wholly undeserving of this worship, as he licked a long strip from your collarbone to your neck, “would love to help you chill out a lil’ more.”

A whine bubbled from the back of your throat, your eyes rolling shamelessly as you feel the pads of his fingers working circles between your folds. “Ah, I’ve—I’ve fantasized about this,” you confessed, “every time you’d ink my back. At one point we just stopped covering myself with those stupidly thin gowns. All you had to do was turn around.” Vernon blinked rapidly, mental pictures ticked like film in his pupils. His hands stuttered across your slick, inserting two fingers between your folds as you continued. His pace was slow, yet purposeful as he made sure you felt him with every thrust. Rings adorned his fingers, and the cool sensation surprised you. You shivered in pleasure. “Mm, I’ve imagined us kinda like this in that little shack, hard against the cot overlooking the shop,”

“Dirty,” he said, as if recalling the weather.

“And ah—wondering what kind of tattoos you have,” and in your haze you reached for him, your hand gripping firm at his gunmetal belt buckle. You tucked your fingers between the button of his light wash jeans, palming the telltale signs of something hard, “please? You’ve done too much for me, lemme return the favor.”

“Not now,” he pressed his forehead to yours, “you can guess my ink on our way home.”

“Wha?“ You’re dazed, feeling warm with affection and drowned in the moment. You feel his fingers, slowly pumping out of its rhythm and resting on your thigh. You groaned at the premature end, his shiny digits resting on your fleece sweats.

“They’ll kill me, this is new leather,” Vernon said, “and now we can afford security cameras, which are so small even I can’t find them.”

“Unbelievable,” you laughed. You’re not frustrated, only endeared.

“Besides, I’d rather have our first time somewhere private. Undisturbed,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, "somewhere where there’s lots of granite."

You melted, pulling at his collar to pepper kisses on his nose. The mention of coming home to his pretty kitchen was icing on the cake. "You know how much I love your granite."

(After your granite fantasy was fulfilled, you spent the rest of the weekend huddled in Vernon’s room. You’re living off take out and mutually satisfied with the unhealthy means. When you’re not eating or watching movies, the two of you are drafting your first piece.

Freesias and pink roses.)

(His tattoo was also very cute.)

#vernon #vernon fic #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #vernon smut #vernon fluff #seventeen fluff #vernon fanfic #hansol vernon chwe #seventeen scenarios #kpop #kpop fic #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #blossomed

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outlier-rookie · 4 years

Text

Of Blood and Greatness - Chapter 1

Chapter 1/?? - The Kid In The Camp

AO3 Link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26305741/chapters/64050937

***

“Who’s there?” John’s rough voice called out as Arthur rode back into camp.

“It’s Arthur! You dumbass.” He yelled in reply, receiving a huff in return.

“You’re back. Dutch wants to speak to ya.”

“What’s he want this time?” Arthur asked, drawing his horse to a halt in front of the other man.

“Ask him yourself.” The scared man replied, walking right past Arthur to continue his patrol.

Grumbling under his breath, Arthur guided his horse, a proud Andalusian he’d taken to calling Admiral on account of the stallions headstrong and commanding nature, over to the hitching posts. As he rode over his eyes were drawn to an unfamiliar horse hitched by the camp entrance, waiting patiently and grazing on the tufts of grass at its hooves. It was a gorgeous Missouri Fox Trotter with a clean golden coat and a rich dark mane streaked with blonde. He didn’t spend long studying the horse and instead picked up the buck he’d stowed on Admiral’s back and began trudging over to Pearson’s wagon.

But for the second time in as many minutes, an unfamiliar sight drew his attention. Sitting at the circular table and looking very out of place was a kid. Arthur took a moment to study them as he passed wondering what a young one such as themselves was doing in the middle of a camp of outlaws. The kid couldn’t have been older than thirteen or fourteen and was on the thin side. They weren’t that tall either, wearing a shirt too big for their thin frame with the sleeves rolled up in an effort to make the ill-fitting garment more wearable. In their hands they fidgeted with a ratty old hat and their hair was mattered and dirty giving the impression the kid hadn’t had so much as a bedroll to sleep on. An old memory of when Hosea and Dutch first took him in, and later John, drifted into Arthur’s thoughts as he passed. He’d barely handed the buck over to Pearson when Dutch approached him.

“Arthur, good to see you back, son.” The dark-haired man smiled as he clapped Arthur on the shoulder, directing the younger outlaw back towards the kid sat at the table.

“So what’s going on?” Arthur asked, “John said you wanted to talk to me ‘bout somethin’.” As the two men approached, the kid raised their head and locked eyes with Arthur. Arthur was nearly at a loss for words as the kid stared right into his soul. Their eyes were an almost unnaturally vivid shade of blue; much more intense than his own. What stuck him as odd was the weary look they held. It was the same look he’d sometimes see in Hosea’s eyes. Tired, haunted eyes like that had no place on some kid. Standing, the kid placed the ratty hat on their head and continued to stare at the two men as Dutch started to introduce them.

“This here is, uh.”

“(Y/N). My name’s (Y/N).” The kid filled in.

“Yes, this here is young (Y/N).” Dutch continued, leaving Arthur’s side to stand between him and the kid- (Y/N). “Bold little thing. Road right up into camp saying they wanted to talk to the leader of this gang and wasn’t taking ‘No’ for an answer.” He explained, chuckling lightly as he did. Arthur nodded as he hooked his thumbs into his belt, shifting his weight into a more casual stance.

“Why you coming out here to talk to a bunch of outlaws like us?” He asked watching with a critical eye as the kid hesitated for a moment, their eyes flicking to the ground as they brought their hands together and started picking at the skin around their nails. It took a few false starts before they finally got the words out.

“I want… I want ta join the gang.” Their hands dropped back to their sides and once again Arthur found those piercing blue eyes staring intently at him once more.

“I dunno Dutch.” He started, barely managing to break his gaze away from those haunting blue eyes. “They’re awfully young to be, runnin’ with folk like us.” He said, waving his hand and gesturing to the likes of Bill and Micah.

“I ain’t that young!” (Y/N) snapped.

“Kid, you can’t be more than fourteen at the oldest.”

“I’m fifteen! And I can take care of myself!”

“They why you want to join up with a gang? We ain’t some orphanage kid and we ain’t good people.”

“Now now Arthur.” Dutch cut in, raising his hand between the two. “You were the same age when Hosea and I took you in. And John was much younger.” He argued, drawing an aggravated sigh from Arthur.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea Dutch. Look at em. They’re just a kid. And the world’s changing, cracking down on folks like us. It ain’t safe-”

“I ain’t safe on my own either!” The kid interrupted. “I ain’t been safe since the day I was born. And besides,” They continued, crossing their arms and leaning back on their heels, doing their best to stare down their nose at Arthur, “I don’t come untrained. I can shoot any gun and hit any target and I don’t miss unless the gun fails.”

Arthur stared incredulously at (Y/N) as Dutch let out a hearty laugh.

“And that ain’t the only thing I have to offer.” They continued. “Them fellas, uh. The special lawmen, the uh, the um-”

“The Pinkerton’s.” Dutch supplied.

“Yeah them! The Pinkerton’s are looking for you and are crawling all over Blackwater. But they ain’t looking for me.” Arthur narrowed his eyes and crossed his own arms.

“Whatchu getting at kid?”

“They’re saying, Arthur, that they can get into Blackwater and get our money. We can get out of here and be on our way!”

“I don’t know about this Dutch.”

“I’m with Arthur.” A fourth voice joined the conversation as Hosea strolled up to the three of them. “You’re an avid reader Dutch. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is’?”

“Come on old friend, think of what this could mean for us! All that money we lost at Blackwater, back in our hand. Valentine is only a temporary stop and we need to move soon. With the money from Blackwater back in our hands we can do a hell of a lot more than what we were originally hoping!”

Hosea sighed and continued to argue against it with Dutch when the kid cut in once more, drawing the attention of just about everyone in camp.

“I already got it!”

Dutch and Hosea froze mid-argument.

“What?” Dutch asked and Arthur swore he heard a note of confusion in the older outlaws voice.

“Your money from Blackwater. I already got it, so even if you sent someone back there and they managed to avoid running into the law, you won’t find it.”

Dutch’s earlier lax and cheerful demeanour disappeared as he stepped closer to the kid, his voice low and dangerous. “And how, exactly, did you find out where we hid it if we are to believe you.”

“Adults don’t pay a lot of attention to kids. Even less so if they’re street kids like me. Heard some of them, fancy-looking fellas, talking ‘nd saying they was investigatin’ you and thought they might know where you hid your valuables in case something happened.”

“And you just happened to get there and find it first?” Arthur growled, arms dropping to his side, right hand hovering by his gun. (Y/N)’s eyes followed Arthur’s movements as they too came to rest on the handle of Arthur’s gun.

“Yeah. I did.” They replied sharply, raising their own eyes back to meet his.

A tense silence filled the air as the camp went quiet.

“Stay. Here.” Dutch’s voice finally broke the silence. “Hosea, Arthur, with me.” The three men trekked away towards Dutch’s tent leaving the teenager alone at the table; a quick signal to Javier had the Mexican man nodding as he set himself up to watch the (h/c) teen while the others talked. Once the flaps to the tent had been drawn and fastened, Arthur exchanged a worried glance with Hosea while Dutch rubbed at his chin, his eyebrows creased with thought.

“What’s the plan Dutch?” Arthur softly questioned a hint of worry colouring his words.

“I’m not sure just yet Arthur. Hosea, what do you think?” Hosea huffed before replying.

“I think we continue with the plan to get away from Valentine. We’ve just about outstayed our welcome and it’s time to move on. I think it far more likely that this kid is part of a Pinkerton trap set to catch us.”

“And if they are telling the truth? If they really have gotten our money out from Blackwater and it’s now within our reach? It a lot of money Hosea, if we had that back then we could get the hell out here.”

“Is the slim chance that they are telling the truth worth the lives of everyone in camp Dutch?” The older outlaw returned. “We’ve already lost the Mac, Davey and Jenny. If this kid is luring us into a trap, who else will we lose?” Dutch brought his hand up to his mouth and nodded solemnly at Hosea’s words, though the crease in his brow suggested he was less than happy with the answer he was given.

“And what do you think Arthur?”

Arthur scratched at his stubble, drawing a hissed breathe as he thought about their options. He strongly sided with Hosea. This whole deal of a random kid wandering into their camp, claiming to have possession of their money was already a wild tale. Add on to that the fact they were apparently willing to just hand it back over to them in return for a place in the gang was just confusing. Anyone with half as much brains as Marston who found the money would have taken it for themselves, and yet this kid was here and offering to give it all back to them with not a lot in return. And yet something was stopping him from outright refusing to consider the kid might be telling the truth.

“I want to ask the kid something first.” He finally said. “They gotta have a reason for wanting to join up with folk like us. This kid could have set themselves up for life if they were smart with the money but instead, they’re trying to return it and get in our good graces. I want to find out what that reason is first.” He finished.

Dutch and Hosea were silent for a spell before the eldest outlaw smiled and clapped Arthur on the arm. “And you claim you ain’t a thinker boy.” Arthur tugged his hat a little further over his face as he averted his eyes, muttering a half-hearted argument under his breath before making his way back toward (Y/N). The teen looked up at Arthur as he stopped by the table, silently regarding the young teen before him. Silently, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it as he kicked a leg up on the short barrel that acted as a chair. The two stared silently at each other as Arthur puffed away before taking the lit cigarette from between his lips and addressed them as Hosea and Dutch watched a short distance behind him.

“Why do you want to join the gang?” He asked slowly, his drawl weighing his words down heavily as he spoke. “You could’ve taken all that money for yourself so why go to all the trouble of bringing it down to us? Worse people than us could have found you and they wouldn’t have had any qualms about robbing and killing some half-starved fifteen-year-old kid sleeping out alone in on the plains.” He paused, taking another drag and lazily blowing out the smoke. “Whatever you want from us must be worth a lot more to you than money.”

(Y/N) didn’t answer straight away. They squeezed their hands tightly and Arthur could barely see them biting their lip from under their ratty hat.

“M’ Dad.” Was the soft reply. Arthur stayed silent and watched as the kid drew a shaky breath. “My auntie. She said that my Daddy is an outlaw. Said that- that he knows the Van Der Linde gang. I just. I want to meet him.” They finished with a shrug.

“What’s your Daddy’s name kid?” Dutch asked, coming up to sit beside the teenager who was suddenly looking much smaller than they did when Arthur first spoke to them.

“I- I don’t-” Again the kid tightly wrung their hands as if it would relieve the emotional pressure they were feeling. “I know what he looks like. That’s all I need. I don’t care if he wants nothin’ ta do with me. I just want him to know that I exist, I suppose.”

Arthur stubbed the end of his cigarette and dropped the butt on the ground, turning to look at Hosea and Dutch who shared a mildly surprised look. Arthur mulled over the information in his head. Fifteen years ago when (Y/N) would have been born, it was mainly Dutch and Hosea finding jobs that he’d sometimes join, while Susan and Bessie looked after John. Uncle might have been around then too but Arthur failed to see any similarities between the drunken old man and the kid who currently looked like they wanted the ground to swallow them.

As Arthur was mulling over everything, Hosea stepped up and took a seat by the teen.

“You mentioned your Aunt earlier, but what about your mother?” he asked gently.

“Don’t have one.” Came a barely legible mumble. Silence once again fell over the group but no one seemed eager to break it this time. Just as he was about to say something, anything really, Dutch beat him to it.

“How far away did you hide the money?”

“W-West of Valentine.”

With a nod, Dutch turned his attention to Arthur. “Arthur, I want you to take Javier and Charles with you and the kid.” Turning back to the kid he continued. “I trust that you aren’t going to lead my boys into a trap.” He said. “If you stay true to your word then there’ll be a place for you among us.”

The kid's face lit up at Dutch’s words. “Yessir!” They cheered; face aglow in the afternoon sun as they turned to Arthur. “We should leave as soon as possible. To be back before the sun gets too low, ya know?” Arthur grunted in response and waved for the kid to mount up. They only took a few steps before spinning back around. “Can I get my gun back?” Dutch shrugged and nodded.

Arthur strolled back over to Admiral, running a hand along the steed’s neck as the horse noses at the satchel hanging by the man’s side. Feeding the stallion a fresh apple, Arthur doubled checked his saddlebags for ammo and supplies while he waited for Charles, Javier, and the kid. Not even five minutes later he was joined by the kid, repeater slung across their back, with Charles and Javier at their heels. They boldly strolled up to the Fox Trotter, smiling brightly as the horse nosed at their offered hand before the kid swung themselves up onto the saddle.

Sparing a place at Charles and Javier and seeing the two men also sat up in their respective horses, Arthur nodded at the kid. “Alright then, lead on.” He instructed with a wave.

“Follow me, gentlemen.”

And with that, they were off.

***

Thank you for your patience! The first chapter for “Of Blood and Greatness” is finally finished!

As a reminder, this is a Red Dead Redemption 2 crossover fanfic as it contains elements of Percy Jackson (you don’t need any prior knowledge of PJO,)

#rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x male reader #rdr2 x gn reader #rdr2 x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption #rdr2 #of blood and greatness #RDR2 crossover #red dead redemption 2

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mememanufactorum · 4 years

Text

Halo: Reach quote starters

* FEEL FREE TO SHARE AS YOU PLEASE, NO CREDIT NEEDED. CHANGE PRONOUNS OR ANYTHING ELSE AS DESIRED.

-Noble Actual-

“You read his file?”

“Anyone claim responsibility?”

“Consider it done.”

“I’ll see you on the other side.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re stepping into some shoes the rest of the squad would rather leave unfilled.”

“I’m glad to have your skill set, but we’re a team. That lone wolf stuff stays behind.”

-Winter Contingency-

“Just get me under the hood.”

“You get a chance, maybe you can ask them.”

“I’m lonely already.”

“Shoot down attempts are likely, so keep your distance.”

“Let’s stay focused. Watch your sectors.”

“Let’s check it out.”

“I want your eyes in the sky.”

“Why are we not seeing explosives residue?”

“There’s a lot of blood on the ground.”

“Looks like there’s nothing here. Let’s move on.”

“You have permission to engage, but be selective. We don’t need to telegraph our presence.”

“Go in quiet. I’m right behind.”

“On your knees, now!”

“They’re not rebels, they’re farmers. Look at them.”

“What the hell was that?”

“Cheer up, big man. This whole valley just turned into a free fire zone.”

“No disrespect, but don’t we have better things to do than round up strays?”

“We don’t leave people behind.”

“I’ve cut about halfway through the door.”

“Where’s the rest of your unit?”

“Found something.”

“I’ll take that. Not your domain.”

“It’s all right. We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“Keep still, and I’ll release you.”

“Flush ‘em out. I’ve got you covered.”

“You’re in my light.”

“What’s your name? Do you live around here?”

“Your accent sounds familiar.”

“Big man forgets what he is sometimes.”

“Best not touch anything. You wouldn’t want to ground this place.”

“May God help us all.”

-ONI Sword Base-

“Regrettably, my efforts to obtain relevant data on enemy forces has been unsuccessful.”

“Let’s knock some heads!”

“I doubt that very much.”

“Can’t do this on my own!”

“Are you havin’ fun yet?”

“Beautiful, ain’t it. Someone should take a picture.”

“Nice work, by the way.”

“I aim to please.”

“Been all hers half my life.”

“I requested your assistance and do not need reports on events that occur on my own doorstep.”

“It’s been too long.”

“What have you done with my armor?”

“Just some… Additions I’ve made.”

“Perhaps you could shed some light on his death.”

“We had other, more urgent matters to attend to.”

“Before you ask, I was alerted the moment you tried to access its contents. As I am with any unauthorized tap.”

“I could send you to the brig for interfering with my work.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Just making a reading suggestion.”

-Nightfall-

“It’s starting to get crowded up here.”

“Direct action is always necessary.”

“Here. You may need these.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

“Looks like we’ve really pissed them off.”

“Give us a hand! Bastards just keep coming!”

“Little more action than we’re used to.”

“What are you doing here? Whole area’s supposed to be evacuated.”

“Didn’t like leaving it to someone else to protect our home, so we came back.”

“You know this stuff is stolen.”

“What? You gonna arrest me?”

“Gonna steal it back.”

“That’s no strike force, it’s an invading army.”

“If we’re gonna smother this thing, we need to go in hard and fast.”

“Sun will be up in a few hours… And it’s gonna be a very busy day.”

-Tip of the Spear-

“Might want to hold on to something!”

“We shouldn’t stay here.”

“I’ll hold these bastards off.”

“Have a nice day.”

“One way to get their attention! Hang on to your teeth!”

“No, no! Somebody tell me this ain’t happening!”

“We need to get out of here now!”

-Long Night of Solace-

“Forty-eight hours? That’s imminent?”

“Uh-oh. Who’s your money on this time?”

“You always pick her.”

“She’s always had him dialed in.”

“That thing’s crushing us and we’re waiting for backup? They’ll be backing up a graveyard.”

“You’re preaching to the converted.”

“I know that look.”

“You can say no.”

“You don’t even want to hear it?”

“...Fine. I’ll hear it.”

“And this is relevant… How?”

“Not the word I would use.”

“Don’t cut yourself.”

“This sanctioned?”

“What do you think?”

“Thank you for sharing.”

“As a soldier in the field, I couldn’t possibly have access to those kinds of resources.”

“You’re scary, you know that?”

“Good luck with that.”

“You’re the one who’s asking him.”

“Oh, there’s no way in hell he’s gonna go for this.”

“Some plans are too good to say no to.”

“Show them what you can do!”

“This breaks my heart…”

“Discourage the curious.”

“Hear that? I’ll be all by my lonesome back here. Make it quick, would ya?”

“Nothing we can do.”

“At your earliest convenience.”

“Damn it… So it’s gonna be like that.”

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“And the good news?”

“That was the good news.”

“That’s a one way trip.”

“We all make it sooner or later.”

“Time has come to return the favor. Don’t deny me this.”

“Tell ‘em to make it count.”

-Exodus-

“You got to be kidding me.”

“Damn, how do you stop that thing?!”

“Help! Somebody help us!”

“They’re coming! They’re after us!”

“Come on! Let’s go!”

“What are those things?!”

“Somebody shut that damn thing off!”

“What the hell is taking this thing so long?”

“Glad you’re on our side.”

“City’s been under siege for the last five days.”

“Guess some of us don’t like leaving a job half-finished.”

“Son of a bitch! I can’t watch this…”

“How’s the day so far?”

“Just keeps getting worse, huh?”

“You saved a lot of lives today.”

“He didn’t make it.”

-New Alexandria-

“Sorry I came alone.”

“Make him proud.”

“I said back off, you nasty son of a bitch!”

“Damn! Look how they move!”

“Look at this place. Used to be the crown jewel… Not anymore.”

“Hey, you made it!”

“It’s a regular family reunion.”

“Keep ‘em. He gave ‘em to you.”

“I’ll honor him my own way.”

“The big man was sentimental…”

“He gave his life thinking he just saved the planet. We should all be so lucky.”

“I hear what I hear.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You want to know if we’re losing?”

“I know we’re losing! I just want to know if we’ve lost.”

“Keep it brief.”

-The Package-

“We’re gonna have to thin ‘em out, or we’ll be way too popular.”

“We’ve got a job to do, so let’s stay focused and get it done.”

“Looks like they got themselves cornered.”

“They were committed to the position.”

“I’m going with cornered. There’s nothing here.”

“If we’re supposed to blow this place, this ain’t the spot to do it from.”

“I didn’t bring my shovel.”

“Alright, we came this far.”

“Apologies for the unusual security measures, but the stakes demand it.”

“Yes, well, as they say, news of my death has been greatly exaggerated.”

“Not sure I understand.”

“Whatever we’re doing down here, we better do it quick.”

“I don’t think you understand. We’re out of time.”

“Bury any of it, and you bury mankind’s best chance for survival!”

“Please. Buy me all the time you can.”

“What is this stuff?”

“Her measure of you carries as much weight as my own… Perhaps more.”

“Mankind is outmatched.”

“An apt question if there were somewhere else to place our hope. There is not.”

“Do you have it?”

“Say the words, please.”

“I have it.”

“I require no escort.”

“Make sure nothing falls into enemy hands.”

“I’ll do what’s necessary.”

-The Pillar of Autumn-

“You are alarming me.”

“Not sure how long she’s gonna stay together.”

“Don’t wanna hear it.”

“Go with him. It’s a ground game now.”

“It’s been an honor.”

“I’ll do what I can to draw their fire.”

“She made the right choice.”

“Stay low, let me draw the heat.”

“You think we got time to walk over there?”

“You don’t have the firepower!”

“I’ve got the mass.”

“Hit ‘em hard, boss.”

“You’re on your own.”

“They’ll be remembered.”

“Who’s next?!”

“I’m ready! How ‘bout you?!”

“We gotta get the hell out of here!”

“I have the gun.”

“Good luck to you.”

“Good guns.”

-Lone Wolf-

“Our enemy was ruthless. Efficient. But they weren’t nearly fast enough.”

“Our victory – your victory – was so close… I wish you could’ve lived to see it.”

“Your body, your armor – all burned and turned to glass. Everything, except your courage. That, you gave to us, and with it, we can rebuild.”

#Halo Reach #Halo #roleplay meme #roleplay prompt #rp meme #rp prompt

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cycat4077 · 4 years

Text

Sheltering An Outcast

Summary: Sonny goes undercover during “Sheltered Outcasts” 17x19 Pairing: Sonny x Reader Warnings: fluff and smoochies with a sprinkle of angst...and maybe a bit of Sonny in only a towel ;) Words: 2848 (sorry it’s a bit long...) AO3 here

Part 6 of the Changes verse (but it can be stand-alone too). (Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5)

It’s evening and you're flaked out on your couch, an empty ice cream container sitting by the wayside, when your phone rings. "Hey Sonny, what's up?" you answer, spirits brightened by the sound of his voice. "Finally finished that difficult case you were working on?"

As you were discovering, some cases posed ridiculous hours, keeping the two of you apart with only the occasional evening together amidst the chaos. Text, calls and Skype eased the separation, but there was nothing better than physically being by his side.

"Yeah, it’s done," replies Sonny. "Thank goodness too. It was a tough one, doll." You hear a heavy sigh on his end and your heart goes out to him. "You busy?" he then asks hopefully, and when you answer in the negative, he adds, "Wanna spend the night?"

A rush of excitement spreads through you. Of course, you want to spend the night! Running around, you stuff a change of clothes into a bag and hop awkwardly, struggling to slip on your pants.

The commute over leaves time to reminisce about the nights you and Sonny actually do get to share at each other's apartments. They're sweet and intimate times. Nothing sexual, just precious moments together without any rush to go home.

Those times bring out the domestic side of Sonny too, being that he always makes sure you feel welcome. For instance, even though he blatantly detests peanut butter, you opened his cupboard one day to find a jar simply because he knows you like to eat it for breakfast.

You also love being privy to his little habits. After practically every shower, Sonny darts between the bathroom and bedroom having forgotten his clean clothes in the latter. With only a towel around his waist, he’ll tell you jokingly not to look, though you can't help sneak a peek at his bare torso still coated in a sheen of water as he runs by.

It’s all these little things that make you fall even more in love with him and excite you for a future with your Italian detective.

-x-

Arriving at Sonny’s apartment, he opens the door and you throw your arms around his neck. Enthusiastically, you pepper kisses across his nose and cheeks, purposefully leaving his lips for last.

Sonny’s smile stretches from ear to ear. Clearly, the affection you shower him with washes away any remaining stress from his latest case. "What'd I do to deserve all that lovin'?" he teases, taking your coat and closing the door.

"Hmmm…" you pretend to think on it. "Gotta be that Italian charm." Winking, you begin shimmying out of your pants, revealing pajama shorts underneath. You then glance over your shoulder and notice Sonny still standing by the door with mouth slightly agape. His baby blues are quite obviously glued to your behind. "Hey, detective!” you call out, batting your lashes and smirking. “My eyes are up here!" It’s hard not to take at least a little pleasure in flirty bouts like these since they never fail to flush Sonny’s cheeks or jumble his words.

"Y-yeah, I-I know, doll. It's just," he closes the distance towards you. "You're so beautiful." Sonny's voice seems to catch in his throat causing your heart to do the same in your chest. He reaches out to cup your face, a thumb brushing tenderly along your cheek. "I'm gonna miss this..."

Your eyebrows knit together. "What?"

Sonny shuts his eyes firmly as if he's guarding a confession and releases a breath through his nose. "I have ta go undercover for a while."

Your eyes widen. "When?!"

Your boyfriend rests his hands on your shoulders, bracing you. "Tomorrow." You pull yourself out of his grasp. "Doll, please!” he begs. “I just found out myself! There's been a few assaults around this shelter for convicted sex offenders and we need a guy on the inside."

How could he just spring this on you? A cramped space packed with ex-cons struggling to get their lives together hardly seems like the safest assignment. What if they don't believe his cover? What if they find out the truth? He could be bashed over the head and no one would give a damn! How could Sonny, a man without an ounce of evil in his body, ever pass for one of them? Sure, he could come off as a little brash sometimes, but not sex offender-levels of it! And how the hell long would he need to be there for, anyway?!

You don't realize that you asked that last part aloud until Sonny responds. "I'm not sure. It all depends on what we can find out and how fast. I hope not too long but who knows..." To say his demeanor is apologetic is an understatement. He isn't any more enthusiastic about this whole thing than you are.

"Why you?!" you protest, half frustrated, half terrified. "Because...because I need you to be careful, Sonny!" The way you say his name is more a desperate plea than an outburst of anger.

"I will! I promise! But I'm still technically the new guy, so it’s kinda on me to take the U.C. assignments no one else wants." And he's right. There's nothing he can do about it. You just have to cherish falling asleep in his arms tonight and pray he stays safe.

-x-

“What about this?” you ask poking your head out of the closet to hold up a tan and green plaid shirt. It’s definitely seen better days.

Sonny turns around from where he’s packing a duffle bag on the bed. “Yeah, that could work,” he agrees. “But where’d ya find it?”

“It was in this box back here labelled ‘Dom’,” you state, parting the dress shirts and suits hanging above your head for a second look.

“That’s dad’s stuff.” Sonny crosses the room and helps you tug the box free from the back corner. “Ma insisted I bring them along when I moved ‘because ya neva know when ya might need ‘em’,” he mocks, attempting his best impersonation of his mother. “I guess she was right.”

“Mothers usually are,” you quip before pulling out a faded pair of thick, denim jeans. “Will these fit?”

Sonny takes the pants to examine their size. “’Should,” he confirms. “They’re from the eighties or somethin’. Dad’s appetite for Ma’s cookin’ sure has made him pack on the pounds over the years…” he chuckles, stretching the waistline back and forth.

“Hey, now! Since I started eating your cooking my jeans fit tighter too!” you say jokingly as you pat your tummy in defence of the Carisi patriarch.

“Jean size doesn’t matter, doll, as long as the heart’s happy ‘n the stomach’s full.” Sonny’s blue eyes lock onto yours, delivering a sincere smile. “And my heart is the happiest it’s ever been.”

Your cheeks flush and you avert your gaze like a bashful teenager. You may not have supermodel proportions, but your heart flutters knowing that Sonny loves you all the same.

The old clothes are the perfect match for Sonny’s alias. Later, as the morning sun trickles through the New York City streets, ‘Dominick Smith’ joins you in the living room clad in an old grey hoodie and his father’s faded jeans. Things are a bit baggy but they’ll do. The two of you spend the next little while rehearsing ‘Smitty’s’ backstory, unnerved that Sonny has to be convincing as someone with such a disgusting past.

“Oh, I almost forgot the ring,” Sonny declares as he jogs to the case-info envelope on the table.

“Huh?” you question as your line of sight follows his movements.

He shakes out a gold wedding band and rejoins you. “Dominick Smith has a missus, rememba? And apparently he wants to better himself so he can go back home to her.”

“Oh, yeah,” you say foolishly, eyes glued to his finger while he delicately slips on the ring. You know it’s stupid, but for a moment your hopes were high and your heart pounded at the inside of your chest. You can’t help but wish the ring was real; that it would symbolize that he is yours forever.

Sonny’s eyes dart between yours and where they’re fixated on his hand. “You okay?” he asks quietly which brings you back to reality.

“Y-yeah,” you manage, forcing a smile.

He then reaches into his pocket and produces a key. “I hope you don’t mind me askin’, but since I dunno how long I’ll be gone for, would ya mind checkin’ in on my place every now and again? Y’know, just ta make sure that no one’s broken in or whateva.”

“Of course, babe,” you reply, accepting the key. But your clouded mind gets the better of you and your eyes widen when you realize your words.

“Babe?” he questions, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I-uh…” You’ve never called him anything other than ‘Sonny’ since the two of you started dating and you’re just not sure if he’s comfortable with anything different.

However, before you have a chance to articulate an excuse, your Italian detective leans his forehead against yours and sneaks in a swift kiss. “I could get used ta you callin’ me that,” he grins. And you can’t help but giggle. This sweet man keeps giving you more reasons to love him.

With spirits lifted, you stand back and place a hand on your hip before drawing a finger up to your lips to study his appearance.

“What?” Sonny questions, scanning himself over self-consciously.

“Something’s not quite right…” You take a couple steps forward and tangle your fingers in his hair. It’s soft and uncharacteristically floppy without any gel. You continue to muss it up, carding through it and enjoying the texture.

“You done?” he asks, pursing his lips, unamused.

“Almost,” you utter as you poke your tongue out of the corner of your mouth. “There!” You step back to admire your handiwork.

Sonny leans over to glance in the wall mirror. A horrified expression overtakes his features. “What did ya do?!” he exclaims.

You throw your head back and laugh. “I made you look the part a little more, silly!” His dark locks now stick up in multiple directions.

Sonny narrows his eyes and gives you a hard look. However, the slightest of smiles plays at the corner of his mouth and you know he secretly enjoyed it.

Then Sonny’s watch lights up, giving off a beep which catches both your attentions. You know what it means and so does he. It’s time.

Tears begin to rim your eyes. “Please be careful,” you speak in a shaky voice. You wish you could protect him and keep him safe throughout this whole ordeal.

“I will be,” he reassures. “This will all be over soon.” Sonny steps towards you and gathers you in his arms. The two of you lock into an embrace and you feel a squeeze that’s filled with desperation. It’s then that you understand just how nervous Sonny actually is about all this. You hug him a little tighter, both clinging to one another like a life source.

“I love you,” he says lingering his touch along your arms.

“I love you, too.” You lean up and kiss him before burying your face in his chest for one last embrace.

-x-

“On my way home now to shower and change before I have to head back. So, I have a few minutes if you're free." Is what his text reads.

You don't think you've ever made it to Sonny's apartment in such record time. After five days of no contact and being consumed by a worry that made you feel like throw up 24/7, his return lifts a giant weight off your shoulders.

You eagerly knock on the door and a disheveled looking man in the same old grey hoodie and faded blue jeans opens it. His hair is greasy and he looks a little pale, though you suppose nearly a week of cruddy food and shoddy sleep will do that to a person. None of that matters, however, because a large smile of relief spreads across your face from knowing he’s safe and naturally, your first instinct is to jump into his arms.

But this time Sonny stops you. "Don't, doll. I stink,” he scrunches his nose in disgust.

A laugh bubbles free from your chest. "Okay, babe!"

"Lemme go shower 'n brush my teeth, then ya can kiss me," winks Sonny as he welcomes you into his apartment. It seems this undercover gig hasn't completely broken his spirit.

"Hurry up then, stinky!" you chide, hopping onto his couch impatiently.

Sonny runs off in the direction of the bathroom and in no time, you hear the whoosh from the faucet and spray of the shower.

A few minutes later, the water shuts off and a familiar darn it! resonates from within. You smile to yourself knowing exactly the cause and perch over the sofa arm to watch the show.

As predicted, the door opens and a billow of steam releases into the hall. The patter of wet feet follow as Sonny comes scurrying out, darting into the bedroom for clothes. You're about to unleash a cheeky catcall when you notice a large purplish splotch resting above the white towel tied around Sonny's waist. You immediately jump up to intercept him before he can duck back into the bathroom. "What the hell is that?" you demand, tone no longer light and flirty.

"What?" he questions, perplexed.

"That!" you point to his discoloured side.

He contorts to glance in the direction of your finger. "Oh."

You continue to stare him down when he fails to provide an explanation.

"It's nothing, doll," he lies, clutching his clothes to his chest. But your disapproving eyes forces him to confess. "Okay...I got jumped. It wasn't by the guys in the shelter though! It was outside 'n they were targetin' everyone they thought could be a suspect in the most recent assault."

They?! You're suddenly overwhelmed by his close encounter. "Oh my God, Sonny! Are you all right?!" He could have come out of this a whole lot worse.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It'll heal. Actually, it was one of the guys from the shelter who came to my rescue. Who knew..." Sonny's voice trails off as his mind drifts.

But all you care about is Sonny. Focusing on the bruise, you hesitantly reach out and give it a light touch. His skin is warm and damp, yet turns to goosebumps under your fingertips.

Sonny gazes down at you silently and you shift your eyes to meet his. It's only been five days but it feels like a lifetime since you've seen his handsome face. The gentle curve of his lips. The blueness of his eyes. Suddenly he feels so close. Nothing but a towel separates you. Your heart rate picks up as every inch of you aches for the man you love.

"I gotta go get ready.” The tension snaps with Sonny’s soft grin and breathy voice.

"I know," you say reluctantly. "I missed you."

"Missed you too, doll." His left hand finds the back of your neck, cradling your head as he leans down with closed eyes to place a kiss to your lips. Maybe it's the steam from the shower, but it's the type of kiss that makes your insides melt. Then Sonny parts and slips back into the bathroom.

Lightheaded, you make your way back to the couch and sit down. Twenty minutes later the door opens again and the Sonny Carisi you're most familiar with steps out. A three-piece suit and crisp tie. Slicked back hair and smooth cheeks. Though he looks perfect to you, Sonny is still fretting over his hair, combing it back at the temples to work in the last of the gel.

"How do I look?" he inquires, holding his arms out to the sides.

"Handsome as ever!" you give a cheerful smile.

Sonny grins. "Sorry I have ta run, but I need ta get back to the precinct. We've got a major lead in the case."

"All good," you wave dismissively. "I'm just glad you're all right and that I got a chance to see you."

Sonny echoes your sentiments while scurrying around to gather his things. You get up once he starts heading for the door. "I dunno when I'm gonna be back t’night," he frowns. "I'd love ya to stick around but don't wanna keep ya waitin'."

"No worries. Besides, you're gonna need a good night's sleep after almost a week in that place." You smile up at Sonny lovingly and take the apartment key out of your pocket. "Here."

"Nuh-no! That's your copy now, doll." He folds your fingers towards your palm, enclosing the key within.

"Really?" You're ready to burst with joy.

"Really," he confirms with a kiss.

"Well in that case," you smile against his lips, "maybe I'll sneak back in here tonight and we can indulge in some mediocre takeout and bad tv."

"Ya read my mind, doll,” he beams. “Ya read my mind."

Notes: Hope you enjoyed this one! It was originally just going to be angsty but I tried to liven it up a bit with some flirty stuff.

Also, here’s a bit of a preview of what’s next. Let’s just say that there’s trouble in paradise... (Full version up now!)

"Doesn't matter. I want to be with you -" "No." Sonny cuts you off firmly. It's the first time he's raised his voice to you in any way. It shakes you to your core, leaving a horribly sour feeling in the pit of your stomach. You try to dismiss it because you know he's tired and scared but the tears still fall when Sonny hangs up the phone.

#Sonny Carisi #Sonny Carisi x Reader #Sonny Carisi x You #Sonny x Reader #law and order svu #svu fanfic #my fanfic #Sonnyshine of my life #Author may or may not have a thing for hot mess Carisi aka Sonny without gelled hair #Thanks for reading folks #I truly appreciate the notes on my fics #This community is great :)#The Changes verse

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