Nighttime Nostalgia (Tim Klitz)

Pairing: Tim Klitz x GN!Reader (romantic)

Word count: 1016

Description: Klitz brings Y/N out to a park for a nighttime hangout. Y/N soon questions why Klitz chose this park specifically.

Tags: slight fluff, first kiss, embarrassed Klitz, Klitz's first name, confession, light language

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun had set a couple of hours ago. Darkness covered the park in a blanket of obscurity. Sitting on top of the play structure, you and Klitz said nothing. You didn’t feel the need to say anything and neither did he. Comfortable silences were not uncommon between you two, you liked that about your friendship.

You would steal occasional glances over to Klitz, but each time you looked, he was just staring into the dark sky, not looking at anything in particular. For a reason you knew very well, this troubled you. You didn’t want Klitz to look at the sky, you wanted him to look at you.

“Is there any reason you wanted to come here in particular, Klitzy? I know it’s close, but so are, like, five other parks,” you said, trying to break the quiet as gently as you could. Klitz had suggested you come here to watch the sunset, not just to a park, but this one.

Klitz looked at you, eyebrows raised calmly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he responded. “Yeah, I guess it’s just close.” You could tell he was lying. Klitz had a tell that you had quickly learned to identify. He would look down at his hands and slightly clench his fists before he lied to you. His lying about something so small bothered you.

“Is that so,” you replied, a slight questioning tone in your voice.

He did it again. “Yep, it’s just close.” You took a deep breath. If he doubled down, you knew it had to be juicy, but you also could tell he was a little embarrassed. You and Klitz had been friends since you were in diapers, so the fact he was doing this was weird. A small idea tickled the back of your brain, it was stupid, but you were also shit out of ideas.

You stood up from your sitting position and hopped off the play structure. Klitz looked a little surprised at your sudden movement but didn’t say anything. You then started to slowly walk around the playground, keeping a close eye on Klitz’s face. Your steps were long, but they were slow. You kept an eye on Klitz’s reactions as you moved around the park.

As you made your way towards the monkey bars, Klitz’s expression changed slightly. He looked down at his face and, even though you couldn’t see the color, his posture gave away his blush. You then walked up to them and sat next to the ladder. You motioned your head to beckon over Klitz. He visibly sighed but got up to join you. He walked a little reluctantly and sat on the opposite side of the monkey bars.

You smiled at him, an air of mischief on your face.

“So, Klitz, why this park?” You looked at Klitz expectantly, and he huffed at you. He now knew how easily you had read him, just how quickly you had picked up what he was desperately trying to hide.

“It’s kinda embarrassing,” he muttered, his arms crossed over his chest. You stood slightly and then sat directly across from him.

“Now you can whisper,” you whispered to him, a big smile on your face. Klitz couldn’t hold back his laughter at the sight of you.

“Ok, ok,” he surrendered. “You asked for it.” He adjusted his glasses nervously, and you could now see the blush in his cheeks. He looked up at the monkey bars with nostalgia in his eyes.

“One time, when we were five, our parents brought us here.” You looked at him, expectant curiosity on your face. You tried to conjure up a memory like that, but nothing appeared.

“We were sitting and talking under the monkey bars, and our moms ran back to the car to get a bottle of water, or something, I can’t remember.” He laughed a little. “As soon as they had gone far enough away, you turned to me, and…you kissed me.”

Now it was your turn to blush. Klitz had brought you to a park where you had kissed him when you were five. That sentence was all you needed to piece things together.

“I guess some stupid part of me thought bringing you here would,” Klitz sighed a little. “That it would make you wanna kiss me again.” As that last part entered your brain, you leaned towards Klitz and closed the gap between you.

It was a small kiss, your lips met him and you sat there for a second. He leaned back in surprise but you followed him. Before long, he leaned forward again, into you. After a couple of seconds, you pulled away.

“Something like that,” you asked. Klitz’s face was bright red and his glasses had slid down his nose.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put any pressure on you, it was a stupid thing to-” You put your finger to Klitz’s lips to silence him.

“You didn’t pressure me, doofus. It just wasn’t a bad idea is all,” you said confidently, it felt nice to look like the cool one in this situation.

Inside though, you were screaming. You had wanted your first kiss with Klitz to be a little more special than in the middle of a park. You had liked Klitz since middle school, and this is how you showed it? However, the more you thought about it, the more special it felt. A park from your childhood under the stars, and Klitz, who looked just as flustered as you felt.

The blushing boy before you had never looked more beautiful. The light of the moon lit up his face as he looked at you with such intense emotion burning in his eyes. He smiled slightly as he parted his lips to speak.

“I really like you, Y/N,” he said, shrinking the gap between your faces as he got closer to you. The way he looked at your lips expectantly screamed at you that he wanted you to kiss him again.

“I think I feel the same way, Tim,” you smiled, resting your lips on his once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I was so excited to write for Klitz! I'm in the middle of my Paul Dano phase right now, so I'm simping hard rn. Also, if you can't tell by this fic and the last one, I'm enamored with dates under the stars, nighttime is just so nice :)

engloutir

1.2 K words

warnings - incredibly vague spot in the csm timeline (somewhere post vol. 11 but before part 2), character study stupid daydream bullshit, angst :) and fluff, IMMEDIATE SPOILERS

summary - Denji has never been one to see himself as a "settle down" kinda guy, but now he might be ready for you (not so much plot).

You have to remind yourself, often, that Denji is another person. Under the chainsaws and the lackadaisical attitude, he is still a man. Soft and flesh and tears. Man.

He sits on your porch now. Makima gone. Power gone. Aki gone. Brothers and sisters and lovers - all for a moment in the blip of his lifetime, all beloved with each stretch of his heart. He’s quiet - bizarrely - staring up at the blanketed stars. Chairs shoulder to shoulder, you’re expected to take the one by him.

“I didn’t know if you wanted anything so I got you - uh - this,” you hold a warm mug out over his shoulder. It was a gift from Himeno, on your first birthday since meeting her. Light blue with a picture of you two printed ugly and wide across the front, “Just warm milk.”

“I think I’m lactose intolerant,” Denji takes the mug anyway. He thinks it’s nice you were concerned about his tastes, but he’ll eat anything. He’s hungry for it all and he always wants more.

“I can get you something else?” you hold a hand out and he wants to take it - drag you down with him, but that’d be sullying and he doesn’t know if he’s quite that hungry.

“Nah,” he sips from your warmed milk and honey and you remember he’s been through hell.

The bags under his eyes have gotten heavier and his shoulders slouch a bit more than they used to.

“This is perfect,” his sharp teeth might cut right through your mug, he almost wants to. Just to leave evidence he was ever there. That you let him in.

He’s always liked you - you were kinder than the others, more patient, more attentive, more genuine. Now that Makima can’t hold the leash like she used to, he realizes he liked your method better. The gentler hand that feeds what he asks and chances being bit rather than shoving escargot past his teeth.

Sometimes you forget he’s hurt, it's easy when he usually isn’t so quiet - he can talk faster than Power could clear a room, and he puts it to good use when he doesn’t want people asking questions. You feel bad you don’t ask, especially with the way he stares.

You crawl over the armrest to your other deck chair and stare into your own mug. Plain water is mostly all you can stomach these days. Everything else tastes like Aki and Power and Himeno and Beam and Angel and Galgali even though you know it shouldn’t. Kishibe told you it’d get you killed.

Maybe you shouldn’t have let Denji live with you - milk may start to taste like sunset hair and a vulgar tongue. Maybe Denji won’t be able to stomach water.

It’s cold tonight. And Denji sees you shiver.

“Where’s your jacket?” his tone is accusatory, “Trying to catch something?”

“Forgot it inside, I think,” you know you did, pouting as you huff soon after, “I don’t wanna get up…”

Denji is not selfless, but he sets down the mug with you and Himeno stretched over and braces his hands on the armrests of his chair, “Want me to run inside?”

“No, no!” you bat his arm until he’s relaxed again, “Don’t ruin this.”

It’s a common night. One you see more often than not, but Denji would write home about it just because it’s seen from a clean porch in a cushioned chair outside a nice apartment. With you. But he can’t write home - and the more he thinks about it the more he realizes it might just be because he’d be writing back to you.

The water is flat and plain on your tongue, but it’s better than cracking over the soda Aki used to always buy you when he’d see it.

Denji’s milk is starting to cool and form a thin film over top - he hates the film but he will drink it anyway. Because he is starving, and because you made it.

Denji wants to unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. Not to hurt. Not to kill. To keep. He wants you in his mornings and he wants you at night. He wants you forever and always and he wants you in my palms. He wants you to want him - want him for Denji, for the human beneath the chainsaws and surrounded by the flesh. To make sure you need him like he does you and secure you like he couldn’t with Aki and Power.

You feel like the warm blanket in December, when you can crawl into a bed at the end of the day and rub your feet together while curling into a ball.

He wants you to swallow him whole.

And when you look at the emptiness left in his chair and ask, “Can I sit with you?” he feels like you’re about to.

He hums and scoots closer to the leftmost arm of the chair, looking up at you as you stand. His eyes are big and wonderful and you can almost see stars twinkle in their reflection - or maybe that’s just Denji.

Almost as he was when you first met him. With big, loud words and no sense of his place.

“You can sit on my lap, too, if you want?” he’s grinning now, and this feels natural.

Talking about how he avoids his birthday and answering the phone can wait another day - for now, he just wants a blanket in December and you’re taking his offer. One leg looping over his and your side caving close to him.

“Such a perv,” you pinch his skin and notice there’s more fat than when you first met him. You don’t say anything, you don’t want him to think too much about it.

“You know it!” he holds out his mug and you clink yours with it, he polishes off his cold milk and the bitter, nasty film that formed on the surface in one gulp. You sip your water and lay your head against his shoulder.

He’s calmer these days, though, and you assume it’s what he’s been through. Having to return from hell.

“Wanna go to the store with me tomorrow?” you angle your head to stare at Denji.

Moonlight mirrors off his skin nicely - cherry cheeks warm against yours and eyes sweet when they turn back to you. You don’t know exactly what you two are, but you do know that if he leaned down to kiss you - you wouldn’t stop him.

“Sure,” he stares a little longer and you hope he likes this angle of your face, he doesn’t think there’s a possibility he couldn’t, “The one with the dog on the sign, right?”

He still likes dogs - you assume that’s the memories of Pochita. You’re glad Makima couldn’t rip that from him.

You nod slowly, grinning at him as he beams back down at you, “Duh. And the free samples.”

“Fuck yeah!” he kicks his legs out and onto the porch banister and leaves them there.

His muscles are less tense now, and when you stretch your legs out to rest by his, he melts into his chair even further - because he is hungry.

He will drink the milk and eat the film and consume your presence in its entirety. He wants to swallow and be swallowed. To be secured like neither of you could do before. Whole. Entirely.

~~~

@chainsaw-man-inserts finally... a return to chainsaw man

611 notes View Post

vitzi9

2 years ago