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sugarcoated-lame · 6 months ago

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oh my gosh seb MY LOVE !!! I’m in love with this, and bob, and you and your brain, this was so freaking cute 😭😭🥹💗

You were inches away from the space and although he was in a hunger-fueled rush, being the ever polite gentleman that he was, he let you go for it.

ehehehehe they hadn’t even met yet at this point and I was already giggling, Bobby is such a sweet southern gentleman and I love him so much

He had a small hope that he would see you inside, only because he wanted to let you know that he was more than happy to give you the spot.

No other reason.

the delicate material of your sundress moved back into place to frame your body. It rippled over each curve of your figure and Bob’s heartbeat doubled in time when he caught sight of your soft belly in your sundress. He sucked in a harsh breath between his teeth as he wondered for a fleeting second, how soft your belly would feel to hold when his face was buried between your thighs.

As someone who’s insecure about their belly, this bit honestly melted my heart, it made me smile so big to see that bob would think of it as something that’s desirable and beautiful 🥹

He already knew what he needed. The same yoghurt he’d had for the past five years, but he was drawn to you. Like a moth to the radiating flame.

just !! aaaaaahhhcjejgjdjgh !!!

Before his thought process could catch up to him, he wondered if you tasted like sweet honey.

Bob had caught your second string of curses to you accidentally dropping something and he thought it was rather cute.

Also I am the clumsiest person alive so dropping a bunch of things in front of a handsome stranger feels so relatable lmaoo

It was deep forest green in colour and harmoniously blended against his striking eyes from behind his glasses. It wasn’t tightly fitted, yet still, his broad shoulders and firm biceps were flexing against the coarse material. His thighs stood strong with his heavy boots planted firmly against the tiled floor. He was tall and practically towered over you, but he respectfully kept a distance between you both.

bob in the flight suit… delicious 🫠

And bob getting all flustered was so precious and had me giggling and kicking my feet, it just feels so in character for him and it’s exactly how I picture him being when he’s into someone 🥹

Bob had been extremely methodical about his choices in life and he only ever perused something if he was certain. He had never been so utterly and completely sure that you were the one for him.

He pictured coming home to you after work, sitting down together at your dining table and sharing the homemade sauce. You were, without a fault, the only person he had ever truly envisioned a future with and he couldn’t repeat the same mistake as before.

“That’s a real pretty name, sweetheart.”

Bob lay in bed that night thinking about how to tell the story of how you both met at your wedding.

And then all of this ???? Bob walking you to your car 😭😭 THINKING ABOUT HOW TO TELL THE STORY OF HOW YOU MET AT YOUR WEDDING ???? Seb how am I supposed to cope with all of this cuteness 😭 no but fr the idea of bob being such a planner and being so set in his routines, and then being so caught off guard by you and so lovestruck because he knows he’s found the one is just so him

Ugh Seb, this was so unbelievably SWEET and I loved it so much, I was literally smiling the entire way through it 🥹 i really just adore the way you write bob!! I hate grocery shopping, but if I ran into bob floyd at the store, I think it’d definitely change my tune haha, like when is it my turn !!!! 🧡🧡🧡

shopping lists.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ summary: you rush to the shops after work to do a quick food shop, but bob floyd was not on your shopping list.

￫ word count: 3.3K.

￫ warnings: mentions of food, supermarkets, feeling hungry and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ authors notes: my description of the supermarket is based off uk supermarkets, so i apologise if there’s inaccuracies to us supermarkets! this also hasn’t been proof read. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Bob was starving.

He cursed himself under his breath as he drove back from base. He had the driver's window in his baby blue truck rolled down and his forearm resting on the side, his fingers pushing through the sticky summer air as he drove. Air conditioning alone wouldn’t keep him cool, as he still wore his flight suit from training earlier that day. He could feel how the ring of sweat around his neck was sticking to his collar, but he simply didn’t have the time or willpower to shower and change on base.

It had just gone five o’clock in the afternoon and he had gotten off later than he expected. He would’ve already had a small meal to keep him going until dinner by now, but low and behold, when he awoke this morning, as the sun was only a crack along the horizon, he realized he had no substantial food in his fridge.

Bob was a planner. He would do his fortnightly shop routinely, but something came up at work and it had simply slipped his mind. The only thing he could do now was drive as fast as he could to the supermarket, slip in, whisk around the aisles in record time and drive back home to cook something up in under an hour. He had another early start the next morning and as always, he had a routinely early bedtime.

Being a pilot made his reactions lightening fast. This would be easy for him.

As he pulled into the car park and zoned in on a space, he noticed another car also going for the same spot.

You were inches away from the space and although he was in a hunger-fueled rush, being the ever polite gentleman that he was, he let you go for it. Through the glare of the late afternoon sun reflecting off your windshield, he couldn’t quite make out the person driving, but he saw how you politely lifted your hand off the steering wheel to motion, “Thanks!”

Bob responded in turn with his wave and warm smile. He drove a little further forward past your car to find another space and the reflecting sun moved against your windshield to reveal you in a clearer light. You had the sweetest little smile as you thanked Bob. Your lips curled up to meet the creases in the corners of your eyes and your cheeks were a sweet rosy colour.

As he drove away and around the corner of the car park, Bob chewed at the inside of his cheek, still with a small smile twitching on his lips. He had a small hope that he would see you inside, only because he wanted to let you know that he was more than happy to give you the spot.

No other reason.

He was pulled out of his thoughts about your sweet smile as he felt his stomach grumble furiously. After doing a loop around, he managed to find a spot at the opposite end of the car park. He of course cursed himself again under his breath for going shopping at peak hours after everyone had finished work on a weekday, but he only blamed himself. He didn’t blame you. You were simply there first.

The almost freezing blast of air conditioner on his face as he entered the supermarket, was a welcomed change to the ever-growing humid air outside. The tiny, blonde baby hairs on the back of his sweat-coated neck stood up momentarily, as the icy air flowed down and through his flight suit. He felt himself cool down almost instantly. He pulled up with a shopping cart and started with fruits and vegetables at the front of the store. He was desperate to move fast, but his boots were heavy and searingly hot with every step he took around the aisles. That was the only spot on his body that the air conditioning could not reach.

As he came to the end of the fruits and vegetables section, he turned to reach for the tomatoes when suddenly a flurry swooped by him. It caught his attention instantly and he whipped his head around, with his torso moving inwards towards the tomatoes to avoid bumping into whoever had just swept by him.

It was you. The same person in the car park who he had given his space to. He observed as you descended the cheese and yoghurt aisle.

A small lump got caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly, as he watched how your sundress swished around your bare calves. He couldn’t help but let his cobalt blue eyes from behind his glasses, glance over you. Bob was raised right by his mom. He was respectful and well-mannered, but the simple and undeniable fact was, that you were the prettiest person he had ever laid eyes on. Even from the glow of the cool light down the food aisle, it could not diminish your luminescence.

He reached his slender index finger up to his glasses and pushed them up his nose ever so slightly. The prior sudden movement had caused them to jolt down the bridge of his nose by a centimetre.

As you walked straight down the aisle and turned to face the cheese selection, the delicate material of your sundress moved back into place to frame your body. It rippled over each curve of your figure and Bob’s heartbeat doubled in time when he caught sight of your soft belly in your sundress. He sucked in a harsh breath between his teeth as he wondered for a fleeting second, how soft your belly would feel to hold when his face was buried between your thighs.

He registered the smile creases in the corners of your eyes. The same ones that he noticed first in the parking lot and how they narrowed to read the label in front of you. Your eyelashes fluttered against one another as you blinked against the glaring light humming above you. As you raked over your options, he watched how your teeth grazed over your bottom lip and chewed nimbly at it. The same habit he had.

He needed some cheese and yoghurt himself, so perhaps he could catch you there.

Bob meandered some meters behind you and acted as if he was choosing his yoghurt option. He already knew what he needed. The same yoghurt he’d had for the past five years, but he was drawn to you. Like a moth to the radiating flame.

He cocked his head behind him to glance in your direction and you had already moved down the aisle to assess your next grocery choice. He took his multipack of yoghurts, placed it in his cart and wheeled it around to stand by you, again acting as if he was evaluating his cheese choice. From behind his glasses, he took another sideways glance. You were performing a balancing act of holding your shopping basket’s flimsy handles, holding the cheese in your other hand and somehow holding open a small notebook and crossing out the presumed item, with a pen.

At a glance, Bob saw how inside your notebook was filled with lots of little scribbles, and crossed-out parts and as you went to close it, the front cover was decorated with sweet little stickers.

“Jesus Christ. That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” He thought to himself.

As you went to slide the pen back into the elasticated band, it slipped from your balancing act and slid along the dotted tiles of the supermarket, straight for Bob’s direction. It hit the sole of his boots and he heard your voice for the first time.

“Ah, shit.” It was muttered under your breath with annoyance, but he thought your voice sounded like sweet honey.

Before his thought process could catch up to him, he wondered if you tasted like sweet honey.

You spoke directly to Bob this time, as you scurried over and bent down to pick up the pen by his boots. He caught a fleeting glance at the swell of your breasts, resting in your sundress.

You laughed out faintly with your apology. “I’m sorry, my mistake—”

As you moved too quickly with embarrassment to pick up your pen, your flimsy shopping basket was swinging and the cheese you were holding also fell out of your grasp.

“Ah! Fuck.” You quietly cursed again to yourself, or so you thought.

Bob had caught your second string of curses to you accidentally dropping something and he thought it was rather cute.

“Here, let me.” He chuckled to himself as he squatted down to reach for your cheese and pen.

Both now standing upright, he handed your belongings back to you and felt how the palms of your hands were as soft as butter against his fingertips. You looked at each other directly and now without the glare of your windshield, he could finally see every delicate feature that made up your beautiful face. He thought that you were so pretty.

You went to open your mouth and speak, but your words got caught on your tongue. This kind stranger was incredibly handsome. He looked smart with his clean-shaven face and his dusty blonde hair parted neatly to one side, with a thick swoop. His rounded glasses didn’t have a single smudge on them and his cheeks were round as he smiled at you, although it still didn't take away from his strong cheekbones and firm jaw.

You blinked in a flurry as you took in his build. You were accustomed to seeing pilots around here with the air base being so close to town, but it was rare to see one in what you presumed was a flight suit of some kind. It was deep forest green in colour and harmoniously blended against his striking eyes from behind his glasses. It wasn’t tightly fitted, yet still, his broad shoulders and firm biceps were flexing against the coarse material. His thighs stood strong with his heavy boots planted firmly against the tiled floor. He was tall and practically towered over you, but he respectfully kept a distance between you both.

“I’m sorry again, thank you.” You smiled bashfully at him. Your eyelashes were still fluttering against one another and your rounded cheeks were dusted pink.

Bob couldn’t help himself. He grinned as he shook his head and politely rejected your apology.

“No need to apologise, Ma’am. It’s all good.”

Suddenly your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised with them.

The glimmer from the overhead light in the supermarket made your eyes sparkle with such an inviting glow.

“Oh! You were the nice guy in the parking lot! You let me take your space!” You pointed your finger towards him. His truck was significantly higher than your car and you were only able to get a glance at his face from behind your windshield.

Bob let out a chuckle and waved his large hand in front of him, diminishing the idea. He further wanted to wave off the ever-growing flush of heat that was creeping up from his chest. It flushed over his neck and cheeks and sat right under his glasses. The blasting air conditioning had once again failed him and his chest, neck and cheeks were now flushed warm.

“Oh, hey. Not at all, it wasn’t my space. You had it, fair and square.”

You giggled in response. His respectful and polite demeanour had your stomach feeling as though a million and one butterflies were fluttering through you, making their way up through your heart and coming out of your mouth with sweet giggles.

“Alright, thanks again though, I appreciate it. I was in such a rush after work. Always the way, isn’t it?”

You laughed again and the sound flowed to Bob’s ears, making his playful smile reach the tips of his ears.

“Tell me about it.” He agreed with a grin.

You flashed a last beaming smile at Bob as the conversation between two strangers in a supermarket came to its natural end and you turned around to continue following your shopping list.

That’s what he thought.

As you turned down the aisle, you once again cursed at yourself for not being more forward, flirtatious, or whatever it would be that would land you his number. He was gorgeous. Undeniably handsome. And he was so stupidly charming and polite.

You turned on a quick heel to see if he was still there, but he had disappeared and you were left alone in the chilled aisle, with nothing to comfort you but your notebook and the static overhead lights.

Bob too mentally scolded himself for not asking such a pretty sweetheart like yourself for your number. As he watched you turn away, he chewed on his bottom lip, curled his fists tightly, released them and then walked away.

He was a gentleman. He would not harass someone if they didn’t show a sign of being interested in him. But he was sure you were. He had a sharp and watchful eye, and he saw how rosy your cheeks turned and how your chest stuttered slightly as your breath got caught in your throat. But he was pulled out of his battling thoughts but his stomach grumbly furiously at him again.

He whisked down the remaining aisles to finish his shop, still with the hope of a fleeting chance to see you again, but he couldn’t ignore what his body was telling him. As he checked out, tapped his card on the machine and wheeled his shopping cart out of the store, he still had both his trained eyes on his surroundings. Just in case there was a single chance, a perfect moment, where he could catch you. Bob had been extremely methodical about his choices in life and he only ever perused something if he was certain. He had never been so utterly and completely sure that you were the one for him.

He fished his truck keys out of his flight suit pocket and just as he was about to turn the key in the door, he remembered.

“Fuck. Tomatoes.”

Bob didn’t need a list. It was all written down mentally and he rarely forgot things, but he remembered that as he was about to reach for the tomatoes, you came by earlier in a flurry. He would’ve called it fate if he ever had a chance of seeing you again.

“Fuck! Tomatoes.”

You groaned and threw your head back in annoyance. It was on your list, sitting on the next line down under cheese and then you remembered why you forgot it in such a fluster. You slammed the boot door of your car back down, locked it shut and headed back inside to grab the final item. Your feet moved quickly along the tile floor and you turned on your heel to find the stack of plump, rosy red tomatoes in front of you.

“Hello again.”

The familiar voice made the tiny baby hairs on your neck stand up and a row of goosebumps rise on your forearms in tow. His smile radiated warmth as it crinkled up in the corners of his eyes. He stood tall over you, still in his flight suit, but again you didn’t feel intimidated in the slightest. You felt a true sense of calm and safety wash over you.

Your lips parted to gasp with happy surprise at seeing him again, before they curled up into a relieved smile, mirroring his own.

“Hello again.” You repeated back to him. “I forgot tom—”

“I forgot some tom—”

You both spoke in unison, before snorting out a quiet laugh between yourselves.

“Apologies. You go.” Bob gestured towards you and the vegetable stand.

“I’m going to make a sauce when I get back home, but I completely forgot the main ingredient.” You waved it off with another giggle, yet still, you did not attempt to reach for said important ingredient. You simply stayed facing him with a gleaming smile.

Bob’s mouth watered at the sound of your homemade tomato sauce. His stomach still growled at him from inside, but he also felt how it twisted and turned on itself with exhilaration. He pictured coming home to you after work, sitting down together at your dining table and sharing the homemade sauce. You were, without a fault, the only person he had ever truly envisioned a future with and he couldn’t repeat the same mistake as before.

He nimbly chewed at his bottom lip, failing to notice how you were also doing the same, as he mentally prepared his next statement.

“That sounds, delicious. I hope I’m not oversteppin’ here, and please tell me if I am, but I’d love to have y’ number, Ma’am. I’d love to try some of y’ homemade sauce, if that’s okay with you?”

Bob was not an overly religious man, but he swallowed thickly and prayed with every hope that the last part of his sentence didn’t come across in the wrong way. It felt longer than mere seconds to receive your response, but he breathed out a short sigh of relief when he saw how your eyes crinkled up into an animated smile to match his.

“Yes, yes! I’d love that. Please, let me get my book…” Your fingers were trembling with giddy anticipation as you worked to open your bag and reached for your notebook. “Uh…” You flipped through to find a clean page and when you landed on one, you gestured it towards him. “Here you go.” You gushed.

“Thank you.” He began. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd.”

You mentioned your name and he felt his heart flutter at how pretty it was. By how eagerly you had accepted his proposal to exchange numbers, he could see that you were just as into him, as he was with you. And so, he let his true feelings become known.

“That’s a real pretty name, sweetheart.”

You sucked in a harsh breath between your teeth and let out a bashful, “Oh…”

The sweet name that he had just called you, made your legs nearly twitch and tremble on the supermarket floor.

His long, slender fingers curled around the pen as he scribbled down his number. Your notebook and pen looked so small in his hands.

When he offered it back to you, you wrote down your number in a flurry and tore the piece of paper out from the binder. You handed it over and he tucked it into the top pocket of his flight suit. You thought that that was the hottest thing you have ever witnessed a man doing.

Bob Floyd, as you now knew him, had seriously gotten into your head and clouded any reasonable senses.

You both exchanged some further light conversation, still with Bob shamelessly and sweetly flirting with you, before you both picked up your tomatoes, paid and left for the car park together. He insisted on walking you to the car to ensure that you got there safely, even though it was still broad daylight and when he left, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

You both went back to your separate homes and cooked your separate meals. As you were about to get into bed you sent Bob a text, the taste of your homemade sauce still dancing on your taste buds.

“this weekend, would you like me to show you how i make the sauce? would you like to come to mine? x”

You were caught by surprise when your phone dinged with a message notification moments after.

“I would love that, thank you for the invite, sweetheart. Can’t wait :-) x”

Bob lay in bed that night thinking about how to tell the story of how you both met at your wedding.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @flames-thebitch @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @randomfandomgirl97 @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @floydsglasses @fridamoss @floydsmuse @bobfloydsbabe @laracrofted @hangmanapologist @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @auroralightsthesky @cherrycola27 @withahappyrefrain @sugarcoated-lame @senawashere

#this was lovely #seb your work is always such a joy to read #i loved this so much #also #ily <3 #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #fic recs #seb <3

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parkersroses · 4 years ago

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delicate. | harry styles.

summary: two lonely people find solace in each other for the night and something delicate blossoms from it.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

wc: 6.1k

warning(s): fluff and smut (a first attempt at it)

a/n: aaah i’m excited and nervous to post this. i guess it’s considered a Christmas fic because it’s set around that time. i do hope you guys enjoy this! i also wanna wish you all happy holidays! side note, i recently made a ko-fi account, so if you’re able to and like my writing, feel free to donate to it! anyways, enjoy! reblogs/feedbacks are very much appreciated! all my love and stay safe <3 (disclaimer: the gif rightfully belongs to @hampsteadharry )

He pushed through the door of the bar, jazz music filling up his ears as he wandered to get a seat. He sighed as he sat on a bar stool, waiting for someone to attend to him and possibly give him the strongest drink here if he felt like it.

Harry felt tired. He’s been tired and exhausted for a while now. Tired from work. Tired from the glitz and glam. Tired of people getting close to him because of his name and status. Just mentally and physically exhausted. But that’s not to dismiss the fact that he still loves his job. He loves and enjoys making music and seeing his fans - who he declared as the best fans in the world - singing back his songs to him.

Though, there comes a time where he doesn’t enjoy it as much as he thought he should lately. Being a well-known singer, songwriter and actor seemed pretty cool but no one knows how tiring and raining it could be. Always having to prove yourself and explaining yourself because of ridiculous rumours that articles make up. Always ending up hurt when you found out your friends were using you because of how well-known you were.

So, he announced that he’d be taking a break from all that. Of course, there was an uproar from his fans but in the end, they understood and sent him lovely messages about having to keep his mental health his main priority.

So now, here he was, sitting at a bar, trying to drink away his emotions. Perhaps, he would find a girl that he could go home with to fill in the empty space of his bed for the night. His break was quite eye-opening to say the least. Harry realised how alone he felt. He thought it was just all in his head because how could he be lonely even when he still had few of his friends around? But he didn’t know that being alone and still feeling alone were different.

And the irony of it nearly being Christmas, there wasn’t much magic or cheer going around for him at the moment. He’ll have to get his shit together before going back to visit his family for the holidays.

“What can I get ya?” a voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts. A woman stood before him behind the bar, he realised it was one of the bartenders there. She wore a long sleeved black shirt, the sleeves rolled up until her elbows. Her long hair was tied up into a ponytail, strands of hair framing around her face. He thought she was pretty. Beautiful, he would say.

Bartender lady snapped her fingers at his face, knocking him out of his thoughts once again. “Seemed to be far away there. Are you sure you’re good here? In a bar?” She said and she smirked at Harry. He felt the blood rushed to his cheeks, having been caught staring at the pretty bartender lady.

“S-Sorry. A whiskey for now will do,” he said softly. Pretty bartender lady smiled at him and nodded. “Alright, then,” she said, heading off to get his drink.

Harry’s eyes followed her figure, almost like he was entranced by her. He was not sure why he did. Seconds later, she put his drink on a coaster in front of him. “Thanks,” he quietly said as he picked up his drink.

“Don’t mention it. You seemed like you need it,” she said almost knowingly. He chuckled at her words. Well, she got that right. “Yeah, just trying to clear my head a bit,” he shrugged at her.

Pretty bartender lady nodded. “Rough day?” She inquired. Harry raised an eyebrow at her question. He probably thought that she was trying to make a conversation other than cleaning shot glasses. He hesitated a little, thinking she might just be another fan and might spill whatever that comes out of his mouth to the nearest journalist. But then, he remembered that he’s already one drink down to probably getting drunk and his mind won’t really care even if he woke up hungover the next day.

So, he shrugged at her question. “Guess you could say that,” he said as he set down the empty shot glass. “I don’t know. I guess I just have a lot of things in my mind. And drinking does numb my emotions a bit. If that made sense,” he chose to say as he looked at her.

She only giggled at his words. “That sounds quite deep. Should write a song about it,” she joked and for a second, Harry thought she knew about him. Because for once, he’d like to talk to someone who’s unaware of his celebrity status. Someone who’d talked to him with a sense of normalcy. Instead of talking to the famous Harry Styles.

“Maybe I should. And I’ll credit you in it,” he joked. She laughed, throwing her head back as she did. “Oh gosh, I always wanted to be a famous songwriter,” she said dramatically. They both laughed at this. It was weird to Harry, this scene felt so normal, it felt as if he knew her for a while now.

She nodded at his empty glass. “Want another?” She asked. Harry thought about it before asking. “Actually, what’s your favourite drink?” Pretty bartender lady was surprised to say the least, but smiled at Harry. “Why?” He only smiled back. “‘Cause I want another drink. And I want to treat you one too. I’ll even pay for yours, love,”

She blushed at this, not expecting him to be so forward yet sweet. “Cheeky, aren’t you?” She said smiling at him, and she noticed a hint of blush on his cheeks. “My mum always taught me to be a gentleman,” he shrugged,

She chuckled at this. “Fine then. I’ll be right back,” she said, going to get whatever her favourite drink was for Harry. Harry smiled as she walked away. He couldn’t help but feel some sort of liking towards her, but not knowing why. Maybe because she was just a pretty bartender lady.

She returned later with two glasses of her ‘favourite drink’ and set them in front of him. Harry was skeptical to see the strange colour of liquid, raising an eyebrow at her. She only smiled and raised her glass up.

“Bottoms up,” she said as she drank from her glass.

Harry sniffed the drink a bit before thinking he was being silly and drank it. As the sweet taste hit his taste buds, he chuckled as he shook his head. “Apple juice? Really?” He questioned.

She laughed as she took another sip on her drink. “Well, you asked for my favourite drink and I gave it to you,” she said with a smirk in her face. “So, you don’t drink?” he asked curiously. She shrugged at him. “A bit sometimes. Just don’t prefer it unless I wanna get really drunk,” she let out a small laugh. Harry chuckled at her words, finding himself agreeing with her.

Harry noticed how pretty of a smile she had. He didn’t know why a tiny detail like that stuck out to him. He found himself quite intrigued with the pretty bartender lady, which he realised he had been calling her that in his head without knowing her name. He stared into her eyes and found himself hypnotized by them. Suddenly, it seemed like they were the only two people in the room. Okay, stop. She’ll think you’re weird.

It was as if his mind took control over him and he found himself asking her, “When do you get off?” He asked, his eyes widening after realising the words that came out of his mouth.

What the fuck!?, he thought.

She was surprised, her mouth agape as she processed what he had just asked. But she seemed to compose herself quickly. “And why do you wanna know?” She asked nervously.

Harry paused before choosing his next words carefully. “Because you seem really cool to talk too. And I’d like to talk to you more,” he said. He was nibbling on his bottom lip, a habit he had whenever he got nervous. He shrugged before he continued, “It’s nice to have a friend, you know?”

Pretty bartender lady - and Harry swore he’ll get her name soon - nodded at him and smiled. Like she knew what he meant. “I’ll be off at 10,” she said. It was only 30 minutes until then. Harry was initially surprised at this, not thinking whether she would agree to - whatever he wanted to with her later.

He nodded in response. “I’ll, uh, wait for you here, then,” he spoke nervously. She chuckled and took their glasses away so she could clean and attend to the other customers before her boss yelled at her.

As she walked away, Harry called out to her. “Wait!” She turned around, eyes wide when he called her. “Um, what’s your name?” He asked. She smiled as her heart melted at the innocent question.

“It’s Y/N,” she replied.

Harry nodded, a small timid smile appearing on his face. “I’m Harry,” he said.

She smiled and nodded at his short introduction. Now, the pretty guy with forest green eyes had a name she could call him. “I’ll see you later, Harry,” she said as she returned to the back of the bar.

Harry sighed, seeming to be smitten already by her. “Yeah. See you later,” he said softly to himself.

❋

Now, Y/N was no idiot. She knew who Harry Styles was.

She wasn’t like the biggest fan, but she appreciated his music and thought he was a lovely guy in general, according to the fan experiences she read. She didn’t know much about him, other than he was a former member of a very successful boyband and his music was just incredible. Plus, she thought he was pretty handsome.

And when she saw him walking through the doors of the bar, she had to take a double take to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

She usually took her job quite seriously, she was polite to all customers and made sure they were always satisfied with their drinks or snacks. It was usually because she wanted to get the tips she needed to pay her rent. So, when Harry sat down by the bar, she couldn’t help herself but go to him.

But now, she was supposed to meet him after her shift. Which was strange to her because all she did was being nice to him and making up a conversation. Did he realise that she was pretending to not know him? Was this some sort of mind trick that was playing on her? Though, he mentioned how it was nice to have a friend. Maybe there was something behind that phrase that meant something deeper to him.

It was already 10 PM. Y/N said goodbye to her coworkers as she grabbed her scarf and coat from her locker. Her heart was beating fast because she realised she was about to go on a little rendezvous with Harry Styles, well, that was what she thought.

She wasn’t expecting anything. She honestly thought he might have just left, realising how silly it was to wait for a bartender friend he just made.

But she walked towards the front of the bar and he was still sitting in his seat like he said he would, waiting for her. And she felt like her heart might burst.

❋

Harry didn’t think he’d find himself sitting at a 24-hour diner, eating some waffles with a pretty friend he just met at nearly 11 PM. He was starting to blame that one whiskey drink he asked for earlier as to be honest, he didn’t know what was happening.

When he met Y/N in front of the bar after the shift, he was nervous, shifting on his feet in habit. When Y/N asked him what he had in mind, he froze because he realised he didn’t think this through. All he wanted was to talk to pretty bartender lady Y/N. The rest was all hazy to him. Luckily, Y/N just laughed at this and guided him to her favourite diner.

They both ordered waffles with honey and blueberry toppings, courtesy of Y/N as she said they were the best waffles she ever had. Y/N got herself a chocolate smoothie while Harry just ordered a nice hot tea. It was a nice little meal.

“So, Harry, what brings you here to LA?” Y/N asked him as she munched on her waffles.

Harry sipped on his tea before clearing his throat. “Uh, I live here, mostly for work. But I’m on a break now,” he said, not giving out too much information. “Hmm. But you haven’t lived here long, I assume. Could tell by your accent,” she said knowingly.

He smiled at this. “Yeah? You like my accent, darlin’?” he teased her and pride filled himself as he saw her cheeks flaring up in the colour red. “Quite the flirt, are ya? But yes, your accent is cute,” she said as she ate. “Good to know,” he smiled and winked at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him as she blushed. He seemed to be quite the flirt, teasing her and calling her pet names. If it were any other guy, she would’ve just left. She admitted that she might not have the best ways in maintaining a relationship. It was always whether she was too picky or bossy and her insecurities always got the best of her. She was used to feeling of being used for sex and her body even when she wanted to believe they wanted something more out of it. She closed herself off from love for a while now. While everyone said that her time will come, she just ignored them. Her main priority was herself and that was for sure.

But there was something about Harry that was pulling her in. He wasn’t far from what the papers write about him but at the same time, he was. He seemed somewhat closed off as she was. She didn’t want to pry, she’d never do that. It was like he was in this fish tank surrounded by spectators watching his every move. Maybe the life he has had somewhat prevented him from forming a real, honest attachment. Or maybe she was just making this all up.

She sipped on her smoothie, her eyes focused on his. She realised how green his eyes were looking up close. “So, I have a question. And I want you to answer this as truthfully as possible,” she said, propping her head on the palms of her hands. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, chuckling a bit before nodding. “Alright, love. Lay it on me,” he said, leaning back on the booth.

Y/N blushed at the pet name given and cleared her throat. “Why did you want to see me?”

It was silent between them. Harry should’ve known this question would come up. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to answer it, he was never one to make friends with a random person and go on a little rendezvous late at night. He shrugged at this, “Like I told you, it’s nice to have a friend,”

“That couldn’t be all,” Y/N smiled. “You don’t seem like the kind of person to befriend a bartender and go out with her for a late supper the same night,” Harry blushed at this and scratched the back of his ear with his finger. “I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to be spontaneous a bit,”

Y/N hummed at this, sipping on her drink. Harry’s eyes were trained on her and she somehow found that a bit intimidating. “I got off work just to clear my mind a bit,” he continued. “Sometimes, I’d go out with my friends, I’d meet some girls and spend the night with them, just to feel something. Just to not be alone,” This was the most Harry had opened up to someone in a while.

“But you still feel alone,” Y/N spoke. Harry frowned at this, not quite sure what she meant. “You could be with someone, and still would feel alone. I get that,” she explained.

Harry’s mouth was agape. “Y-Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled out. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead,”

“You really don’t know me, do you?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. She let out a small laugh. “I knew who you were the moment you stepped foot into that bar,” she said. Harry’s eyes widened. All this time, he was glad he thought Y/N didn’t know him but she treated him like any other normal person. But she knew all along.

“That was.. Surprising,” he chuckled as he ran his hands through his curly locks. “But, you didn’t seem to look like y’know me. Treated me like a normal person,” She stifled a laugh. “Well, would you rather I’d treat you like royalty? Curtsey in front of you?” She joked.

Harry laughed at this. “No, no. It was nice. It’s good t’just pretend your life is normal for once,” he nodded at her. “I’m sure you have some friends that treat you like you are just Harry,” she smiled.

Harry only shrugged at this, “A few of them do. When you’re in the industry long enough, you’d know how to tell apart the few people that are honest and real with you and the many who just use you sometimes.” Y/N frowned at this but nodded. While she couldn’t connect to being in the same industry as him, she knew perfectly how it feels like to be used by people you allowed yourself to get close to.

He brought his cup of tea to his lips, realising how cold it was getting. “You want some?” He offered his drink to her. Y/N nodded, taking the cup from him. “You like tea?” She asked.

“I do, but I prefer coffee,” he smiled at this random conversation. “Please tell me you don’t take your coffee black,” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, as if she was daring him to admit it. Harry smirked and shrugged at her. “Sorry, love. It’s the best way to have coffee,”

“No, it’s not! It’s so bitter!” Y/N exclaimed and laughed at this. “I don’t think this would work out,” she pouted. Harry swore his heart beated a little faster, seeing her lips pout. He wondered how they’d feel against his. “What wouldn’t work out, love?” He smiled at her.

Y/N blushed at this, looking down at her lap before she looked at him again. “Whatever you want this to be,”

They spent their time getting to know each other and by the time it was midnight, Harry ended up paying for their meals, ignoring her protests as he did. Y/N was tempted to wipe off that smug smile off his face. The December air howled as the night went on as the decorative holiday lights lit up the street they walked on. The two walked side by side, their hands brushing against each other’s. If Harry had the guts, he would intertwine their hands together. But he didn’t. Not yet, at least.

“Random question, but do you prefer sunrises and sunsets?” she asked out of the blue. Harry thought for a moment before answering, “M’not sure, actually. Never really paid attention to them all that much.” Y/N nodded at his answer.

“Sometimes I like to wake up early just to see the sunrise,” Y/N spoke. Harry looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? You like sunrises?” he asked gently, the cold air making his breath visible to see. “I do. I like sunsets too. But no one ever stops to appreciate the sunrises,” she sighed.

“Maybe it’s because they can’t be bothered to wake up so early,” Harry joked, making her laugh. “Yeah. Well, I do that. My apartment has a nice view of it. It’s nice. The city is just beginning to wake up. The golden glow casted upon it,”

Harry nodded at her. “Is this your way of inviting me over?” He teased. Y/N paused, her cheeks flaming up. It wasn’t her intention, but she might as well have done so. Harry was a nice company to keep and she liked him. She really did like him. “Maybe,” she mumbled.

Harry smiled at her sudden shyness. It was something he liked about her. He really liked her. And he wanted her to take him back to her home, as pathetic as that made him seem.

“Well, lead the way, darlin’,”

Y/N struggled to put her keys into the keyhole of her apartment. Nervous was an understatement for her. She had a really sweet and attractive man waiting behind her and she was about to invite him in. She was almost sweating at the thought and she didn’t know why.

She opened the door, letting the warm air of her small apartment flow through them. Harry found it quite cozy. There were plants placed in different corners of the room, he noticed a record player by the television. There was also an easel standing by it. It was small, unlike his luxurious houses, but homey.

“You paint?” He asked. Y/N blushed at this, she forgot to put away your paint and clean up. In her defense, she didn’t think you would have company tonight. “Yeah, s’just a hobby. And somewhat a side hustle,” she said, taking off her coat and putting in on the couch. Harry did the same, subtly wiping his sweaty palms against his dark jeans.

“Uh, d-do you want something to drink?” she asked nervously. Idiot, you just had drinks. “Or, if y’want, I have some chocolate chip cookies. If you like chocolate chip cookies. I mean, y’don’t have to but-,” Y/N was cut off upon hearing Harry chuckling at her, his expression amused as he listened to her nervous rambling.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’m good,” he said, smiling at her. She blushed again at the use of the pet name.

It was silence, the only thing that could be heard was their breathing as they looked at each other. Harry slowly walked over, Y/N’s breath hitched as he did so. She was nervous and she was scared, she hadn’t done this in a long time. His arm settled on her waist and it was the first time he touched her. His eyes, green as ever and filled with lust and passion, were focused on hers. She could feel his breath hitting her face due to the proximity between them.

Y/N gently placed her hands on his chest, feeling it rising up and down as he breathed. His forehead was already pressing against hers, their noses slightly brushing against each other. “Can I kiss you?” Harry finally asked ever so softly. And Y/N couldn’t help but nod her head. “Please,”

His lips crashed into hers, gently at first, but she kissed him harder, making it more passionate. She could hear him moan into the kiss as their tongues battled for dominance. His hands travelled lower to her backside, she moaned aloud as he squeezed them. When they pulled away, they would instantly pull into another kiss again, wanting to be close. Harry lowered his hands further behind her thighs, signaling her to jump so he could hold her tightly against him.

“Y/N, I won’t be able to stop,” he said, gasping for air. Y/N only kissed him again, replying as her lips were against his. “Then, don’t,”

Y/N wasn’t sure how they made it to her room, laying nearly naked on her bed. She just realised how many tattoos he had on his body. She traced over the art scattered over his skin delicately. “Harry,” she whimpered as she felt his hardened length grinding against her core. She could feel her arousal seeping through her underwear. She gasped as he pressed kisses down her neck onto her collarbones, her eyes rolling back when he sucked a sweet spot there. His fingers entangled themselves between hers, squeezing them tightly.

“Harry, please,”

“I got you, baby. Gonna take my time with you,” he said gently as he kissed her forehead.

Y/N could feel her heart beamed at the sweet gesture. She had one-night stands before, but none of them felt as intimate as with Harry. The way he kissed her, held her, it almost felt right. And she wondered if he felt it too.

When they’re fully naked and Harry lined himself against her, he looked at her, as if he was asking if she was still sure of this; if she wanted this; if she wanted him. Her eyes were shining as the moonlight shone through her curtains, her hair sprawled against her pillow. She was beautiful and ethereal. He almost couldn’t believe it.

A nod from her was all it took for him to push himself in, the two moaning in relief as pleasure shot through their bodies. He slowly thrusted, taking his time with her. The feeling of euphoria running through their bodies as they held each other close. Her legs were wrapped around his hips, wanting to keep his warm body close to her. “Harry, faster,” Y/N pleaded.

It was almost like a switch went off his head before Harry spreaded her legs further, thrusting harder and further into her. Moans and groans filled the room and the scent of sex and sweat filled the air. Harry had his head buried into the crook of her neck, breathing hard as he felt the pleasure burning at the bottom of his spine. He was close and he knew she was too from the way she was clenching around him.

“You close, baby?” He breathed out as he looked at her. The bed was creaking with every movement they made. Y/N moaned in ecstasy as she nodded her head, trying to keep her eyes on him. She didn’t want to miss a thing with him.

Harry took her by surprise by pulling out, lifting her up so she sat on his lap. He guided himself into herself, groaning as she welcomed him in her. Y/N moaned loudly as she felt him hit deeper, feeling herself clenching around him. She quickly began to move against him, smiling as she saw Harry shut his eyes in pleasure, murmuring her name. “C-Close, Harry, fuck,” she groaned as she moved faster.

Harry sat up and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as if it was possible. He thrusted his hips upwards against hers, adding to the euphoric pleasure that was coursing through them. “I know, baby. Fuck, y’feel so good around me,” he moaned out, looking at her with hooded eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, their heavy breaths hitting each other’s faces.

It was only a glance into his forest green eyes that triggered her high. She moaned out loud, her body shaking against him, and just the sight of her high triggered Harry’s. He groaned against her neck and cursed a string of profanities under his breath as he kept thrusting his hips into her, prolonging his orgasm. When they calmed down from their highs, they took deep breaths before pressing their lips together. Harry could hear a whimper from the beautiful woman above him. He was delirious with the bliss feeling.

They laid on their sides, admiring each other’s glowing yet sweaty state. Harry closed his eyes and sighed as Y/N brushed her fingers through his hair. “Y’alright?” he murmured to her. She nodded and gave him a shy smile. He thought it was cute of her acting all shy after having done such an intimate and dirty activity with him. He kissed the tip of her nose, smiling as she scrunched it up. “You’re beautiful,” he admitted.

Y/N let out a deep breath. There was no denying the attraction she felt for him. The setting was so intimate, far from what she thought it was going to be. She felt herself opening up to him, something she prevented herself from doing for a long time. She was scared of this, but she liked it at the same time.

“Hold me?” she asked and Harry pulled her against his body without a second to waste. Their breathing was the only sound they paid attention to. Y/N nuzzled her face against the crook of his neck, her finger tracing the tattoos on his chest.

“Are you gonna stay?” she asked softly. She was not expecting anything, but she hoped he did stay.

Harry smiled and pulled her closer. “Only if y’want me to,” he said. Y/N returned the smile, tracing out his lips with her finger, feeling how soft they were.

“I’d like that,”

❋

When Harry woke up, he felt an empty cold space beside him. Confused at first, he sat up slowly, wondering where the pretty woman he liked was. He turned his head and there she was, sitting by her window looking out into the early morning. She was sipping on something from her mug and she was wearing his dark blue T-shirt from the night before. She looked absolutely breathtaking.

“You’re up early,” he said, catching her by surprise at the sound of his voice. She smiled at him and made her way to sit on his lap, putting her mug on the bedside table. “You missed the sunrise.” She ran her fingers through his messy bed hair. He sighed, realising how much he liked her doing that simple yet intimate gesture. “Yeah? Was it pretty?”

“Very,” she sighed as Harry laid his head on his shoulder. He held her tightly in his arms, similar to how he did when they slept. “Well, you’re prettier,” he said, planting kisses up her neck. She realised how deep and raspy his voice sounded in the morning, it sent shivers down her spine. “Well, you’re a charmer,” she murmured.

Harry looked up at her, taking in her morning glow that she was emitting. “Your eyes are really pretty,” Y/N said softly as she admired his forest green eyes. “Yeah? Y’think so?” he said, playfully fluttering his eyes at her. She laughed at this, throwing her head back. Harry thought it was the sweetest sound. She traced the outline of his lips with her index finger, feeling how soft they were under her touch. Harry kept his mouth agape as she did so.

“Can I kiss you?” Y/N whispered. He smiled at her, remembering his exact words from the night before, before nodding. “Please,”

The fluttering in his stomach intensified as their lips met. The thing that clouded Harry’s mind was how soft her lips were and how sweet they tasted. Their kiss almost made him feel dizzy for how much passion there was. When they pulled away, he looked at Y/N with hooded eyes, his breathing was heavy from the blissful sensation he felt. He gently wrapped his arms around her frame and it just felt right.

He pulled her into another kiss, a moan elicited from Y/N that sent blood rushing to his lower region. His hands travelled up his shirt she was wearing and he let out a groan, realising she had nothing underneath it. He felt drunk by her touch, her scent; everything. It was a delicate feeling he felt and he didn’t want to let go of it. He could get used to this, the feeling of her. For once in a long while, he didn’t feel alone anymore.

It was no doubt that Y/N felt the same.

It all just felt right.

❋

The snow was covering the backyard, the trees and bushes were covered in white. Y/N watched as the snow fell while sipping on her hot chocolate. The house was decorated for the special wintery day. The tree was lit up and decorated with many ornaments as well as pictures on it, the presents laying closely below it.

Voices snapped her out of her thoughts, she smiled as she heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. She turned around to see her husband holding up a sleepy little girl in his large muscular arms, the little girl they were blessed with as their daughter. Harry was talking animatedly to Ruby, trying to wake her up in the Christmas spirit.

He gasped and pointed his finger at you. “Look, Rue! It’s mummy! An early bird, isn’t she?” He said to Ruby as he bounced her gently in his arms. You rolled your eyes at his silliness. “Mama,” the little girl reached out to her mother as she rubbed her sleepy eyes. Y/N set her mug on the counter and grabbed lifted little Ruby in her arms. “Morning, Rue baby,” Y/N cooed softly at her, closing her mouth with the back of her hand when she yawned.

“Think she’s a bit tired,” Harry chuckled at them. “Y’think? Who’s the idiot that woke her up early?” Y/N asked sarcastically at her husband. He only lifted his arms up in defense, a smug smile painted on his face. Ruby quietly giggled at her parents. He sipped on a mug of hot chocolate and she narrowed her eyes at her as he leaned back on the counter.

“Are you really drinking my hot chocolate?” Harry paused for a bit before swallowing the warm drink. “I’ll make ya another one, love,” he rubbed the back of his neck. Y/N rolled her eyes at him before chuckling. “You better, Styles.” She felt Ruby shifting in her arms and gently bounced her. “Y’alright, bubs?” She pouted at her daughter.

“Snow,” she said, pointing out the window where the snow was falling. “Yeah, bubs! It’s snowing!” Y/N exclaimed excitedly to her, making Ruby giggle. “Dada, snow!” she exclaimed to her father.

Harry laughed at his daughter’s adorableness. “That’s right, Rue!” He agreed, stroking through her curly hair that she inherited from him. He placed a hand gently on Y/N’s clothed stomach. “And how’s bub number 2 doing?” He asked softly. Y/N smiled, her heart beaming at the gentleness of her husband. “They’re doing great in there,” she said, placing her hand over his above her two-month growing belly.

Harry beamed at this, pressing a gentle kiss on her lips, eliciting a small whimper from her.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. Even after all these years, she found his green eyes just as beautiful and hypnotizing.

“I love you, too,” she said and smiled at him as they broke away.

Perhaps, Harry would consider himself lucky that his sad lonely self walked into the bar she previously worked at five years ago. Maybe if he hadn’t opened up to Y/N or went back to her apartment, he wouldn’t be able to have this little family he was blessed with. There was something so delicate and real he felt that night that he wanted to keep. So naturally, they both let their walls down and took a chance on each other. And perhaps because it was nearing Christmas that night, he would think of it as some Christmas miracle.

“Wanna open the presents, Rue?” Y/N asked Ruby as bounced her in her arms. Ruby giggled, not even understanding what her mother said, and nodded. “Yeah? Wanna open presents with mummy and daddy?” Y/N said excitedly as she carried her into the living room. Harry chuckled at the precious sight of them as he followed them.

As they sat down in the living room, he took a moment to just admire his wife and his daughter. Y/N, though wearing one of his Christmas sweaters and sleep shorts, looked just as beautiful and ethereal as she did the night they met. She held little Ruby in her arms, who was busy tearing up the small present in front of her. His wife cheered at their daughter as she took out a little stuffed teddy bear, giggling as she waved it around with her small hands.

Y/N looked up at him and gave him a loving smile as she intertwined her fingers with him. Despite them being in such cold weather, her hands felt warm against his. He admired how they fit perfectly in his. Ruby babbled incoherently to her parents about her gift, in which they nodded like they understood what she said. Harry’s heart warmed up just thinking of how they’ll have another addition to their loving little family soon.

His heart was full of love and happiness. He no longer felt alone. He had everything he wanted in that moment, his growing little family.

Everything was just right.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #parkersroses writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing

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allforyoumylovely · 3 years ago

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emma, hiii. you're taking requests, like that's the best thing ever hihi. idk why but I've had this image in my head of sander resting against robbe's chest as he robbe reads to him, while he runs a hand through sander's hair. maybe sander is coming out of a bad episode or maybe they're just relaxing on a sunday, but yeah.... maybe something like that hihi. much love to you emma <333

Cille, this was an absolute dream prompt for me, my gosh 💘 📖 I went off on a few tangents but hopefully that’s okay sfhjg. Walk, shower, read. It’s their little routine 🧡 Thank you for sending me this. Love you! Btw let me know if I should upload these on ao3 or if they should just be little tumblr exclusives?

Sander always knows when he’s fading away, when he’s turning into a shell of himself. But he never knows when he’s going to fall asleep at the wheel. Until it’s too late, until he crashes. And that’s when he loses all sense of who he is, of what he enjoys or how he likes to dress or what his voice normally sounds like. Sometimes the only indication of time passing is his alarms that tell him to take his meds and eat at set times.

Although he doesn’t reach the point anymore where he wants to be physically erased – he knows that this seemingly perpetual state of sadness isn’t definitive no matter how much his brain tries to convince him otherwise – some days all he can drag himself out of bed for is a cup of coffee and a cigarette or a few slices of tangerine, the scent reminding him of his boy, his college boy. He’ll crack open a window in the living room and curl up against the cushions in the window-seat, the hood of his black hoodie over his head, and there he’ll try weaving his way through the weeds and the tangled neurons in his thunder-stained mind to anything resembling an actual thought with a pinch of substance.

For the days where he’s more clear-headed his mama puts up little post-its around the house with simple tasks for him to do to help him feel useful and necessary. And in the mornings whenever Robbe has spent the night, Sander finds little notes from him too; there’ll be an I love you on his pillow, an I’m so glad you exist placed on his desk and I’m bringing you flowers later <3 hanging on his door. The first time Sander doesn’t think Robbe actually means the one with the flowers, but when he buzzes him in later that afternoon, the first thing he sees is a bouquet of light pink lilies cradled in his arm against the autumn brown of his jacket, the hues so lovely and gentle, just like Robbe. It’s more than Sander’s frail mind can take, and Robbe wipes away the thin streams of warm tears with his sweater paws, and they laugh softly when it only makes it worse.

Since before Robbe, Sander has been figuring out what soothes him, what makes him feel more at ease, what helps him settle back into his body and bones when coming out of a bad episode, and he has slowly built up a list of things that assist in bringing the puzzle pieces of his mind back into place.

Walks

Sander’s aunt has a golden retriever, Bella, who goes on a little holiday at Sander’s when he’s down and spends most of his days at home. In the mornings she’ll pad over the hard-wood floor to his bed and nuzzle her nose against Sander’s face until he wakes up, waiting patiently for her walk. It’s easier for Sander to get out of bed knowing there’s someone relying on him for their needs and wellbeing. He’ll take her and himself on a walk in the fog-blue mornings when the morning traffic is yet to come, and then again in the early evening when it’s still light out but the streets are quieter, enough for him to give his brain some stimulation when it feels like it has slowed to a halt. The sound of his boots against the sidewalk reminds him that he’s still part of the world, that he hasn’t completely vanished after all.

Sometimes he goes by himself, just listening to and observing the city around him with pale eyes. Other times Robbe goes with him, sleepy-eyed and rosy-cheeked in the mornings, relaxed and loose-limbed at night. He doesn’t curl his hand around Sander’s but lets it hang by his side with their pinkies brushing, open and inviting, for Sander to take if and when he feels like it. Sander will thread their fingers together always, but he loves Robbe for giving him a choice and never forcing anything on him.

Often, they find a bench somewhere, in a park or at the river, a place that isn’t too crowded but still has plenty of things for Sander to rest his eyes on. It’s only the middle of September but some leaves are already falling, lying yellow and limp on the ground, and Robbe notices Sander’s wondering expression.

“It’s probably because the weather has been so dry; they’re shedding their leaves to conserve water and energy,” he says.

And Sander instinctively inches closer, a small smile on his lips. “Clever you.”

Bella sits by Sander’s legs with her head propped on his knee, her deep brown eyes alternatively scanning the place and glancing up at him, sensing his sadness. She’s calm and curious and cuddly, reminding him of a certain someone. When Sander tells him, Robbe breathes out a little giggle, making Sander gaze at him more deeply than he has in days, at the silky curls around his ears and the blinking hoop and the crescent dimples curved into his cheeks, and he’ll quietly rest his head on the slope of Robbe’s shoulder, a few tiny clearings of blue sky starting to appear in his overcast mind.

Showers

Back at home, he and Robbe linger in the hallway for a bit, their hair messy, the scent of fresh air in their clothes. When Robbe says that his green, sparkly eyes are coming back, Sander curls a few fingers in the front of Robbe’s shirt, feeling the firm plane of his stomach against his knuckles as he mumbles, “Shower.”

Some nights Sander can’t stand the mere idea of catching glimpses of himself in the mirror; hates the way he looks with his violet circles and dull, greasy hair. So Robbe will light a couple of candles, and they’ll undress in the dim orange glow and quietly get under the shower spray. And there, with Sander’s forehead resting against his own, Robbe will wash Sander’s hair and tell him that he looks beautiful in this light, while his fingers work in small, bone-melting circles. The near orgasmic pressure on his scalp helps reconnecting Sander’s mind and body, making him press up tightly against Robbe, finally diving back into the swirling, velvety heat that licks into every cell of his being.

“Thank you for… For staying with me,” he says between hushed breaths and light kisses. It falls clumsy from his lips, sounding graver than he intends it to, but Robbe, the angel soul that he is, moulds his answer into five words of pure reassurance that protectively wrap themselves around Sander’s heart.

“I’m going to marry you.”

Sander doesn’t cry. But he’s very damn close.

Reading

This one begins one night maybe a year into their relationship. While Robbe brushes his teeth, Sander wanders Robbe’s room, taking in the familiarity of it, running a hand over the forest green sweatshirt draped over his chair, trailing the edge of his desk with a few fingertips. When he reaches his set of shelves, he sees it wedged in between a plant and some school supplies: a book of bedtime stories filled with beautiful watercolour illustrations, the cover a painting of a dark blue night sky with a full moon reading for her stars over a little sleeping village. The spine is threadbare, seemingly from the countless times of being opened and closed. As he flicks through the crinkled pages, soft lips press against the nape of his neck and the back of his shoulder.

“Are you snooping around my room?” Robbe mumbles.

“Mhm,” Sander hums. “What’s this book?”

Twining his arms around Sander’s stomach from behind Robbe says, “When I was little my mama used to read these stories aloud for me at night. She was looking through some stuff the other day and found it again.” He hooks his chin over Sander’s shoulder. “It’s cute, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Very.” Sander glances back at Robbe with a squeezing feeling in his chest. “Did it make you fall asleep?”

Robbe smiles. “Every time.”

Sander drops his gaze back to the book, asking quietly, “Will you read for me?”

And Robbe brushes a “Sure” and a kiss behind his ear, tugging him along to the bed.

It’s something they do now: Robbe reading aloud for Sander whenever he feels low and doesn’t have many words to offer. Sander then tucks his head under Robbe’s chin, and Robbe tangles his fingers in his freshly washed and citrussy-smelling hair, scraping over his scalp in endless, soothing motions. Safe and sound, Sander listens to stories about naughty star-children, wizards flying about in rolled up rugs, and a Goodnight-ship with live stuffed animals as passengers. They flow over him like dripping streams of honey, Robbe’s voice lovely and wonderful and a little sleepy, and Sander tries so desperately to make his foggy brain hold onto the words.

Sometimes when the night air is cooling Sander’s room and Robbe feels a little cold, he’ll wear a thick hoodie to bed. Sander loves the scent and the comfy feel of the well-worn fabric under his palm, but sometimes he gets a little frowny and frustrated at having to fumble for his small waist; so Robbe pulls it off despite the goosebumps rising on his skin, and Sander presses his ear to his heart and tightens his hold around him, sharing his body heat his only job while he listens to stories from when Robbe was little. And Sander feels little too; but it’s something he allows himself. A few years ago, he didn’t dare dream that he’d ever have this with someone; didn’t think he even had this level of softness in himself.

But here he is. Here they are.

He has never wanted to be someone’s more than he does Robbe’s; it’s so clear that he belongs to him. And it’s crazy, Sander thinks. Because no matter how feeble and numb around the edges his body and mind feel, his love for Robbe is always right there in a molten pond at the core of him, and Sander could cry at the fact that his brain always lets him have that.

In the days following, when he finds that he has enough energy to send Robbe little dorky, flirty texts throughout the day, such as Bella woke me up with wet, sloppy kisses. Wish it was you or when you’re in the mood for a snack but you’re not there💔 with an attached photo of himself pouting at the open fridge, he knows that the darkness in his chest and brain is releasing its hold and taking flight.

#drabbles 💗#wtfock #cille 💗

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honeymoonjin · 5 years ago

Text

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: fanboy!taehyung x artist!reader

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 13.7k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: still bitter about a scandal that ruined your painting career, you’re recommended a getaway by your therapist to a small island off the coast of seoul. expecting a tranquil location to wallow in self-pity, you’re startled when on your first night, you encounter an avid fan of your work. instead of annoying you for an autograph, kim taehyung ends up being the very thing you need to fall in love with art again.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: sexually explicit content, reader suffers from poor mental health but nothing serious, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise, that’s kinda it, it’s pretty soft tbh

The breeze is light here, broken by the gentle rise of the sand dunes behind you. It runs over your skin like water, a warm current that lasts long after the sun slips below the horizon line.

You sit for hours watching it, the tail of pinks and oranges and ochres that reflect thickly on the top of the water, the shallow crests of low tide. There’s a pull in your heart, a twitch at your fingers. The you a year ago would’ve had her paints out already, an easel with legs precariously shoved in the dry sand. The you a year ago would have been tossing up whether cadmium yellow or cadmium orange would suit the last slip of sun above the water, and whether you should wait til it was gone entirely to save making the decision.

Then again, the you a year ago would never have needed to come here.

The you today just waits, silently, you don’t even know what for. You’d been told this was a getaway. That you just needed some time to recover your muse, or some bullshit like that. But the more time you sit in silence and watch the sky blacken to navy and the stars prick the darkness with dazzling clarity, you think your therapist was wrong. How was this a getaway when all your problems were still festering inside you?

“Oh my god, Y/n L/n?”

You groan and sink back into the sand, head cushioned on the warm piles. Just your fucking luck. “You’ve got the wrong person,” you call out with eyes squeezed shut, praying the stranger will leave you alone. The last thing you needed was a green reporter or psycho fan to spill your location to the rest of the world. You can only imagine the headline. Disgraced painter Y/n L/n found hiding away on a tropical island eight months after she ruined the Met Gala.

“Oh my god, it is you! I’m a massive fan, wow!”

Fuck. At least there was a chance they’d keep quiet. You crack open an eye, staring up at the figure beside you, cast in shadow. From the glint of moonlight, you can see a crown of ruffled hair that’s a faded teal. It reminds you of the impressionist painting of a mountain lake that threw your work into the public eye. Just as faded as the dye on his hair, that time feels worn and aged, like from another life. A reminder of how far you’d fallen. “Look,” you confess lowly to the silhouette, “I just wanna be left alone, I’m not- I’m just here for a break from...everything.”

The figure shifts his weight in the sand, raising an arm to scratch at the back of his neck shyly. “I don’t mean to disturb you,” he apologises. With the slight breeze, his baggy clothes buffet around his lean figure and in the darkness he looks like some vengeful angel, towering over you with the moon behind him. But his voice is so soft, so genuine, so- so warm. Perhaps not vengeful, then, but definitely an angel. “You’re a hero of mine, I wanted to thank you for how much you’ve inspired me, saved me. Gosh, it’s crazy that you’re even here, I-”

“I’m sorry,” you force out, sitting up, wincing as grains of sand work their way down the nape of your neck, “really, I am. But I’m not the person you’re thinking of. Not anymore, at least.” You hate the way your voice rings out so thinly in the night air, nothing like the deep honey of his. You hate the way you sound broken.

He senses it too; he takes a step back, turns towards the dunes. “I should be going, I guess,” he murmurs. “For what it’s worth, I hope I see you around. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

You don’t respond, wrapping your arms around your hunched knees and staring at the silver ocean until you can no longer see him in your peripheral vision.

—

It’s over a week before you see him again. Though you’d never admit it to anyone, you keep an eye out for the boy with the teal hair. There wasn’t enough light that day to make out his face but still, with hardly any people for miles, you hadn’t anticipated he’d be all that difficult to find.

Truth be told, there had been a deep curl of regret and dissatisfaction that took root inside you shortly after you left. He was just trying to be nice, and you could use a friend. Could use someone.

You had asked for privacy when your therapist began recommending a break, a getaway, but you hadn’t expected it to this degree. The place you were staying at was a rundown bungalow just behind the dunes, tucked away in a sliver of land where sand met forest, rising up into hills. The only people you saw were the employees that ran it: a maid that stopped by every day at 1pm, even though you had already made the bed and cleaned up after yourself; an older gentleman that delivered you fresh groceries every couple of days in his ancient-looking four wheel drive; and finally, the electrician you’d had to call out a few nights prior after the power went out.

The mysterious fan hadn’t been dressed like an employee; then again, it was long past the workday when he’d approached you. Mulishly, you find yourself lugging a picnic blanket and a pillow down to the beachfront every evening, monitoring every inch of the coastline that stretches around this edge of the peninsula.

It’s only on the ninth night, when you’re folding up your rough blanket with a disappointed grumble, that a sudden yap catches your attention. You whirl around, toes sinking deeper into the light sand, and gasp as a familiar silhouette approaches, stumbling down a sand dune to your left.

He hasn’t seen you yet; so focused on the tiny fluffball that tugs restlessly at its leash. It’s a lot earlier tonight than the last time you’d seen him, and there’s enough remnants of sunlight in the sky to cast him in a warm golden glow.

He’s in baggy clothes like last time, a long-sleeved white t-shirt with a v in the center, unbuttoned and sagging over the shoulder of the arm that’s getting yanked along, and some tan linen shorts. It’s hard to tell with how he sinks to his ankles in sand with every step, but he’s barefoot, almost sliding down the steep dune more so than walking.

You can’t hear him at this distance, but his lips are moving, parted in a boxy grin as he responds to the constant yipping of the tiny dog at his feet. He’s gorgeous, tanned skin to fit the honey of his voice - the voice you’ve been unable to shake from your head - and the roots of his hair are the colour of brown sugar, lightening into the dyed teal ends, whipping over his cheeks and neck in the seabreeze.

He turns off when he reaches the base, following his dog, who pulls in your direction, short bursts of energy that get cut off by the length of the leash. Your heart jumps, and you find yourself waiting in anticipation, breath caught in your throat.

But the moment he glances up and sees you, he halts in his tracks. Stepping back, his smile falls, bowing his head to you apologetically and pulling on the leash so that the small black-and-tan puppy at his feet turns around with him.

They start walking away from you, and you don't have time to think before you're calling out to him, jogging over with your blanket and pillow forgotten behind you.

He stops walking, though he doesn't turn, and when you finally come to a stop beside him, he keeps his head down.

"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday," you rush out, slightly out of breath, "I was in a really shitty mood, and I had kinda come here to get away from...everything in the first place. I wasn't expecting a fan, and I reacted badly. I'm sorry."

Even after standing still, you can't seem to catch your breath. You haven't seen him this close, in this much detail, and it makes the air catch in your lungs. His eyes are an intense burnt umber, dancing over your face with an unreadable depth to them. He's taller than you, but not bulky. Though his shoulders are wide, he's lean, with a narrow nose and soft cheeks. The wind plays with the ends of his hair, revealing glimpses of a strong brow. He's beautiful.

"I didn't mean to bother you," he says after a moment, and you almost jump at the timbre of his voice so close to you, "I should be the one apologising. I'll leave you alone, honestly. I can find another place to go for a walk, or go at a different time-"

"Do you walk here a lot at this time?" you interrupt, the euphoria of finally holding a conversation after so long loosening your tongue. "You haven't been back since that night."

He tips his head to the side, shoulder jerking when his dog impatiently tugs at the leash, quiet snuffles and yips of disapproval ignored in the air between you. There's a flicker of something in his eyes - surprise? Amusement? "You were looking for me?"

"I-" Your voice fails you, and you realise how pathetic you must look. Your shoulders sink. "I was... I wanted to apologise," you land on finally.

That strange flicker in his eyes settles into a grateful warmth. "I normally do, yeah, but I had to go back to the mainland to pick up this guy." With a genuine smile, he glances down to the ball of fluff that's now lying over his bare foot. "I stayed there while he got his first lot of vaccinations. You can pat him, if you want."

You can recognise that offer for what it really is; an olive branch. In other words, he's apparently not holding a grudge against you for being an asshole. You smile gratefully, crouching down to pat the tiny animal. "What's his name?"

"Yeontan," he answers cheerily. "he's nine weeks old!"

You coo, chuckling at the soft fur wriggling beneath your fingertips, at the wet nose prodding at your palm for more pats. "Yeontan..." you muse. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

You hear a sheepish laugh from above. "Your, um, your painting of the old barn in Icheon? There's a kennel that's beside it in shadow, but you can just make out the name Yeontan painted on the front. I-" He breaks off awkwardly, falling silent.

Your hand freezes, and you feel yourself slump from a crouch to sitting fully on the sand, still hot from the afternoon sun. Yeontan. A detail you couldn't even remember painting, yet he'd named his dog after it. The dog continues to cover your hands in slobber and stray fur, but you just stare at it blankly.

"I'm sorry," the man winces, tone low with defeat. "You probably think it's stupid. I swear I'm not one of those crazy obsessed fans! There was just..." His voice changes then, closes up to cut off any emotion. "I shouldn't say. Sorry."

Your shoulders slacken. "You don't have to keep apologising," you say softly. After a moment's thought, you push up off the sand to stand up again, grains clinging to the skin that's damp from the dog's affections. The handsome stranger's face is stricken, reluctant as he watches you get up. You miss the boxy smile he'd held when he made his way down the dunes. You wonder if he'll ever smile that way at you. "I wanna hear. What you have to say."

Hand flexing on the leash, he looks down at Yeontan and back up at you, eyes squinted slightly as the sun glares onto his face; a radiant, sharp orange. "One of the reasons I'm such a fan of your work is the emotion you can actually see on the canvas. I don't even know how to explain it, but I feel it. And with the Icheon barn painting - I actually saved up for years to buy the original - there's something so sad and lonely about that kennel, that patch of shadow. The rest of the scene is so bright and open, it feels like a party that the kennel wasn't invited to. I don't know, it's stupid. But I thought if I ever bought a dog, I'd name it Yeontan so that it wouldn't feel so alone." He faces the horizon as he speaks, wincing into the light, and a broken laugh bubbles out of his throat once he's done. "Like I said; it's stupid."

But you don't think it's stupid at all. "Did it work?" you ask instead, nose prickling as tears build behind your eyes. The more he spoke, the more you remember the painting. It was your last work before the Met Gala disaster, and after everything went down in flames, desperate online tabloids went back to it, citing it as a 'cry for help'. You hadn't really painted it like that though, not really. You'd seen that beautifully painted barn in the countryside when you were driving between cities to visit your parents, and was taken by the dilapidated dog kennel tucked just beside it. Painting it wasn't some sort of clue to your nosedive, but more like a solidarity with that kennel, the dog that once lived there. The story that had been forgotten. And to hear this man had seen it, had wanted to ease the suffering just like you had... The emotions inside you, ones that had felt so dull and monochrome, now churn inside you in indecipherable technicolour, too many to count. But you think one of them might just be hope. "Did- did getting Yeontan work?"

He's looking at you now. He stays silent for a moment, the softest smile tugging at your lips, and it takes your breath away, watching the colours of sunset play across his skin while his brown eyes seek yours out intensely. "Yeah, it did," he answers eventually, his voice almost a whisper. It's only once he starts speaking that you realise the two of you have moved closer inwards without realising, so that it would only take a half step forward to be pressed against him. "But I think talking with you has helped more."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. The whirlpool inside you settles, leaving you feeling lighter than you have in years. You don't know what it is about this man that makes you feel...sane again, but you want more of it. "I think talking with you has helped me too," you confess, voice lilting in uncertainty. "Can... can I see you again? I don't even know your name, but-"

"Taehyung," he answers immediately, and even with the fall of night, the sun well and truly gone, his eyes are bright. "I could come back tomorrow?"

Your toes flex in the sand fighting the urge to jump in relief. "Yes! Yes, I'd like that," you chime, a smile tugging at your lips. "It was nice to meet you, Taehyung."

"The pleasure is all mine."

You sleep well that night. You can’t remember the last time the peaceful rays of sun have woken you so gently, but you certainly aren’t complaining.

You’d spent the past week or so moping in your cabin until late afternoon and then moping on the beach. Only now, after finally meeting the boy again - Taehyung - you realise how much you’ve been wasting your time buried in your own thoughts. Now all you want to do is explore. You’d been told on the ferry over here that the island was only a few hours’ walk around the coastline, and that your cabin, a street of shops and a small village of houses were the only signs of life. No bar to drown your sorrows at. No club for finding faceless strangers to make you forget who you were for a few hours. All your coping vices had been replaced with open stretches of nature in all its colours; the cool grey rocky beaches on the southern shore, the lush greens of the hilly forests, the glinting turquoise of the sea, and open plains of pastel sky for miles and miles.

The walk isn’t particularly intensive, but it’s long, and your feet ache in their sandals by the time you reach the docks again, having marked a full loop around the island. The dock, empty this late in the morning, leads directly to the main street via a cobblestone path that weaves between dunes, flax bushes, fields and a skinny stretch of trees, and you follow it to the center of the island, resting in a small cafe.

There’s no free WiFi here, so you sip at a tall glass of homemade strawberry lemonade and watch the streets through the storefront window. From your seat, you can see the people wander back and forth, the odd few with kids, but almost all are retirement age. Slow-moving couples with walkers and canes, elderly men jangling the keys to their vintage cars (that surely didn’t have much road to drive on), women with age-spotted skin and heavy beaded jewellery.

You can’t work out how Taehyung fits in this picture. It’s almost impossible to picture him walking down the same street as everyone else; his dyed hair, clothes two sizes too big, tall and slender frame hurrying down with a dog leash in one hand and a grocery bag in the other-

Wait.

You straighten up, eyes widening as you watch the man himself pauses to let Yeontan cock his leg on a patch of grass by the intersection. Physically, he’s entirely incongruous with the rest of the villagers, but he looks entirely at home, glancing up to smile in recognition at every figure that passes by him. One goes so far as to reach up and ruffle his hair playfully as she talks, and his face brightens with crinkled eyes and a boxy grin, greeting her warmly.

The same feeling of longing and dissatisfaction stirs you from the other time you saw that smile. You want to be the one that makes him so happy. You frown, unconsciously chewing on the end of the paper straw. It’s too hot in here. There’s not enough ventilation, and with the sun streaming in, the heat just pools inside, sticking to your thighs and arms. That’s why you leave the cafe before finishing your drink. The heat.

The lady has left by the time you cross the street, and you fake a cough noisily as you pass him, eyes cast away but face turned so he’d easily recognise you.

“Y/n!” Your heart warms, keens at the calling of your name, and you turn to him, smiling broadly. Taehyung grins when Yeontan rushes over to greet you too, whole body rocking with the force of his tail wagging. “Fancy seeing you here,” he remarks, and you take in a deep breath of air, feeling lightheaded with his attention back on you.

“I decided to explore a bit,” you answer, eyes dropping down to the supermarket bag in his hands, white plastic taut and digging red lines into his palm with the weight of it. “Retail therapy?”

He laughs goodnaturedly, but there’s a flush of pink high on his cheekbones, standing out beside the strands of green that he’s tucked behind his ears. “It’s actually, uh, something for tonight. I didn’t know if you’d- If you still-” He breaks off his stammering with another laugh, this one more self-conscious, and the pink deepens to red. “I thought you and I could paint together. I bought us some materials just in case you didn’t bring your own.” You fall silent, mouth slack and parted in surprise, so he continues on, lifting up his hand for a moment, bag rustling, then changing his mind and letting it fall again. “There isn’t a proper art supplies store here, so it’s just from the toy store. I know you’re probably used to proper stuff, but a bad worker blames his tools, you know! Not that you would- that you’re a bad-”

“You paint?” you ask finally, ending his nervous rambling.

His whole body slackens a bit, like you’ve cut some tension from him, his head dipping down to break eye contact. “Um. I’m- learning,” he answers with an uncertain wobble to his voice.

You tilt your head to the side with an expectant smile. “That’s really cool. How long have you been studying?”

He swallows, looking up to send you a hesitant smile. “I, um, I studied the instructions on the back of a paint-by-numbers kit in the toy store. Just now.” His voice lifts at the end of each sentence like it’s a question, that same bargaining smile plastered on his face.

You let out a genuine laugh, the first one you’ve had in a while. In too long. “Is that so? I better bow down to the maestro then.”

“Hey!” he whines playfully, shoulders rocking forward like a toddler feeling sorry for himself. “I learnt everything I know so far just from your art. And did you hear that speech I gave you about The Barn at Icheon? That was pretty good, right? You have to admit, that was good.”

His hand, the one loosely holding Yeontan’s lead, reaches out to grasp gently just above your elbow as he speaks, rocking you slightly like he’s pleading for you to agree. You find a constant stream of laughter bubbling out of your throat as he does so, feeling so light in the sunny midday breeze. “Okay, okay, that was good,” you confess, “you get a point for that.”

Once your laughter subsides slowly, you find yourself looking up at him with a residual smile, the same of which is spread on his face, eyes glimmering with something fond. He waits for the air between you to fall silent, tongue slipping out just slightly to wet his lips as you hold his gaze. “Y/n,” he asks softly, your name like molten sugar on his tongue, thumb unconsciously rubbing at the sensitive skin in the crook of your arm, “will you paint with me?”

Though the thought of painting still sours inside your chest, with his skin on your skin and his smile just for you, you feel like you could do anything. There’s only one answer. “Yes, I’ll paint with you, Taehyung.”

Painting with Taehyung is less painting with Taehyung and more staring desolately into the middle distance as Taehyung decides to make the clouds purple, bottom lip sucked between his teeth in focus.

“Don’t overthink it,” he stresses for the millionth time, glancing over at your blank canvas, “I’m not judging you.”

But it’s not about him judging you. If it wasn’t for him, you don’t think a paintbrush would have ever found its way into your hands again, certainly not so soon. It’s just that- you feel an overwhelming burden, a historical pressure of all your mistakes before. If you put brush to canvas now and create a work of art, then was your complete mindblank for the Met Gala all for nothing? Though your therapist advised against it, you had rather become attached to the idea that you’d somehow gotten artistically injured somewhere, and that eventually you’d broken completely, irreparable. It made the constant white void easier. Your first death.

“Happy little accidents,” Taehyung says lightly, dipping heavily into orange and catching a dollop on his wide-leg jeans. Not noticing it, or not caring, he swipes the orange into the canvas in a wonky line down past the horizon line, forming the neck and body of what looks vaguely like a giraffe. “And, um, happy little- happy little trees. If you want we could turn around and face the forest?”

Though a glum cloud is settling in your stomach you flick him a soft smile. “So you watch Bob Ross too? I thought you said you learnt everything from me.”

Using the same brush, he scoops out some black, using a pinkie finger to mix the colours together inside the bristles, a murky brown. “Maybe just a little,” he admits, daubing rough patches onto the giraffe, half of them overlapping the edges of its body. There’s an endearing quality to his carefree worksmanship, and you can’t deny that his painting looks good, wonky lines and all. “But don’t worry, you’ll always be my first,” Taehyung adds, not looking at you but smirking all the same.

The double entendre isn’t missed on you, but still, as you sit on a picnic table right on the edge of the village, blank canvas in front of you, you can’t bring yourself to laugh at it. All you can see is the paint drying on the tip of Taehyung’s finger, the messy pots of basic acrylics, and the warm smile that doesn’t leave his face.

He’s having fun. How long has it been since painting has been fun for you? Annoyed, you grab the clear green plastic brush from the set, dipping it into black. Muscle memory tingles across your knuckles and down the muscles of your wrist, an instinct to hold the brush in a certain way, tap off the excess, but your frustration overrides it, and you take the paintladen brush and smear it directly across the center of the canvas, a gaping maw of glossy shadow that bulges on the lower edges, gravity pulling at the thick stripe. You go completely still once it’s done. Staring.

Taehyung looks over after a moment, watching you carefully. “Is everything alright? If you didn’t want to paint, we didn’t have to-”

“It’s terrible,” you interrupt, a frown marring your face. “I fucked it up.”

“You didn’t,” he chastises softly, pushing his canvas to the side and leaning over your shoulder. “It’s a promising start. Maybe the duck pond is black in your world.”

Your eyes slide lower, unfocused. “Maybe the whole ocean is black in my world,” you murmur.

He’s silent for a moment, unsure what to say. “Then how will the fish see?” he asks in a light tone, bumping your shoulder gently with his, but you just let out a broken sob, tears spilling over your cheeks like they’d been triggered by his contact. Taehyung’s mouth opens in a rounded o, eyes wide, and as the dam breaks, you feel an arm find your back, rubbing soothingly, and long, warm fingers wrap around the hand that holds the brush limply, cradling it. “We can fix it, it’s okay,” he soothes in a kind whisper, “here; it’s that mailbox now, yeah? And behind it is the candy shop-” His voice cuts off while he guides your shaking hand to the green, mixing it with white in the plastic pottle to make a pale pastel. You feel the pressure of the brush in your hand shift as he moves the bristles over the canvas in a roughly rectangular shape, but you’re unseeing, crying tears that sting like turpentine into that black ocean behind your eyelids, letting him move you.

The two of you stay like that for what feels like an eternity, you curled in his embrace as he quietly paints for you, commenting on each step of the process so you know what he’s doing, even with your eyes closed. At one point, your energy leaves you, and you collapse into him, pressing your cheek against the stable warmth of his chest, heartbeat audible through his thin t-shirt. He doesn’t complain, just adjusting his stance to better support you and resting his chin on your head.

“I’m sorry,” you blubber thickly at one point, tasting salt.

“You don’t have to be,” he assures, “just keep breathing. Look; let’s put some trees in, hm? One for you and one for me.”

You open your eyes with a sniffle, feeling your hand lower in his secure hold, and you twist around your head to watch him dip the filthy brush in a green which has already been tainted by white and red in places. Your eyes follow it up again, until he fearlessly swipes in the graceful branches of the fir trees which cover the highest points of the island. You look at the rest of the painting, and a disbelieving giggle bubbles out of you, a smile across your face despite everything.

Unlike the mental image you’d been plotting in your head with the narration, this square of canvas has a line of slightly leaning buildings stacked beside each other tightly, colours smearing on the borders. In the middle of the uneven grey strip of cement down the middle to mark out the road, two trees stand proud, mostly green but with bleeding patches of muddy purple and brown too. Entire drops of paint spatter and run, creating a chaotic but vivid daydream of the end of the street in front of you.

“A lot better in your head, wasn’t it?” Taehyung asks knowingly. You laugh again, the last few tears pressed out of the corners of your wet eyes. “It’s okay,” he replies easily, “it was better in my head too. But the one in our heads is boring, don’t you think? If I wanted to see the street in front of me exactly, I’d just look up. Or take a photo. But nobody can visit this place we’ve painted. It’s just here, brand new because of us. I think I like that more.”

You sit up, wiping your eyes with a tired smile. “There’s no way you learnt all that from me,” you deflect, voice still raw from crying. “But yeah. I think I like this one more too.”

“I’m glad,” he answers softly, letting go of your hand and removing his hand from your back at the same time. You suppress a shiver at the sudden absence of heat. “I’ll let this dry and hang it up right beside The Barn at Icheon.”

You laugh again, sniffing away the last dregs of self-pity. “You better not,” you warn playfully, “as semantically poignant as it is, it’s an awful paintjob.”

When Taehyung smiles, it’s bright and boxy. And it’s just for you.

Time passes, but not like in the real world. Out here on this island, you start counting the passage of time by how many occasions you’d met Taehyung. Then, once you’ve seen him too often to count, you let yourself lose track of time completely, remembering only the moments spent with him like vignettes on a fragile chain.

The two of you always meet in the town or on the beach, speaking about everything and nothing. One day, while waiting beside the blue metal mailbox for Yeontan to pee (though Taehyung still insisted it looked better black) you tell him of the time you accidentally turned all your clothes yellowy-green after accidentally putting an apron in the wash that had an opened sampler of chartruese in the pocket. On a rainy afternoon when you’d gotten caught in the downfall walking through the forest, Taehyung told you, while wringing out rainwater from his rumpled maroon sweater, that he was meant to be studying agricultural sciences on the mainland, but his grandmother was sick and so he bought a place nearby to care for her.

“One good thing about being on the island,” he’d chimed cheerily, dark teal and brown plastered to his cheeks and forehead, “is that property is super cheap here. My grandma paid half and I paid half, and now the one-bedroom I live in is all mine.”

“But isn’t that sad?” you’d questioned, feeling the ground turn to mud beneath your shoes. “Living on the island, I mean? You should be in a big city, partying with your friends, living life. This place is like one massive retirement village.”

Taehyung had just shrugged. “My grandma likes it. And I like living for someone else, you know? Makes me feel good.”

Long after you’d gone home, warming up by the radiator in your beachside bungalow, those words had stuck with you. You wonder if, with all this time he’s been spending with you, he’s starting to live for you, too. You wonder if maybe that’s a bad thing.

But still, time passes in this hazy, episodic way. Money continues to filter out of your bank account each week you stay, but you hadn’t worried about your finances for years now, enough successful exhibits from your productive days keeping a healthy sum.

Though he never pushes as much as last time at the picnic table, Taehyung keeps you creating. Backs of napkins, tourism pamphlets, the kids colouring sets at the local diner. No matter how scrawled or indecipherable, the soft-hearted boy compliments your work all the same, slipping the scraps into his pocket with a joking promise that he’s going to frame them. Somehow, every unthought, unplanned line of ink or lead or pigment that lights the page feels like one less needle buried deep inside your heart, one small salve to ease the burden. You don’t know if Taehyung knows it, but in all the ways that count he’s a better artist than you.

When he’s around you, the world is lusher, more vibrant. Your time alone is grey and muted; a dull beach, an empty bungalow. With him, you feel like the sky is bluer and the trees are greener. The bonfire you sit in front of now casts an intense orange glow on everything around it, including Taehyung’s hands as he deftly impales marshmallows onto a skewer.

It’s cooler at nighttime these days. At some point, you’d both exchanged sandals for sneakers, t-shirts for sweaters. Taehyung seems to fancy heavy cable knits and thick trousers even in mild weather, and you wonder if he’d still wear clothing typical of an elderly gentleman even if he was on the mainland in a modern city instead of around the older generation on the island.

Tonight, you’d tried and failed a traditional Korean barbecue over the open flame. While Taehyung had shoved his cut of pork right into the fire, ending up with a charred outside and raw inner, you’d diligently held yours above the flames, turning and turning until the muscles in your arm screamed and you had to give up and admit perhaps the meat from the local butcher was cut too thick, and that a bonfire was good for nothing more than toasted marshmallows.

“This is where it’s at, this is it,” the young man enthuses confidently, each skewer laden with four or five marshmallows, bunched together, “dessert for dinner. The way it should be.”

You’re content to sit back and let him work excitedly, wrapping the edges of the picnic blanket low over your shoulders and lap. Though Taehyung is always devastatingly handsome, he’s the most gorgeous like this: focused in his element and surrounded by all the colours and textures of nature, a painting come to life. The heat of the flames is curling his hair lightly, making teal ends flick at his temples and the nape of his neck. His hair was growing out steadily, but still he chose not to cut it, and you can’t deny the length suits him.

“There’s more brown than green now,” you mention softly. “Soon it’ll look like dip-dye.”

Taehyung glances back at you over his shoulder with a rougish grin, shuffling around so he faces you fully. “What; is this your way of saying it looks bad?”

“No,” you defend with a pout, reaching for the near-full packet of marshmallows. “I’m just curious if you’re gonna leave it like that.”

Taehyung hums like he doesn’t fully believe you, and he leans over to shove his hand in the packet at the same time that you’re rummaging for the soft sweets, your knuckles brushing together. You shiver at the contact. Somehow, that’s been the first time you’ve shared skin contact since that day at the picnic table. Wide-eyed, you wait til he’s grabbed a bunch and pull your own hand away, empty and white with powder.

“Sorry,” he adds reflexively, but you just shake your head. How are you supposed to tell him that you liked the feeling of his skin on yours? Taehyung pops a pink marshmallow into his left cheek, letting it bulge and slur his speech as he gives you a broad grin. “You could dye it for me! My hair, I mean. Pick a colour.”

Against your will, you smile back, cheeks puffing at the thought. “I have no idea how to dye hair, Tae.”

Something flickers in his eyes when you say that, or maybe it’s the dancing flames reflected in them. He chews quickly, swallowing with a jerk of his jaw, and licks the rest of the white powder off his lips. “I bet it’s a whole lot easier than painting a picture.”

You scoff, but there’s no bite to it. “Oh, so you didn’t want me to paint one of my works on your hair, then? Don’t fancy Jeju Dusk on your scalp?”

Taehyung grins at the name, recognising the title of one of your earlier paintings - one that had been relentlessly criticised for its blending of techniques, something that later became your signature. “That’s my second favorite piece, you know? I have a print of it at home, and I saw the original in the Leeum Museum last year.”

You remember the director of the Leeum fondly. In your beginning years, he’d fought for your works to be shown in some of the frequent exhibitions they held. Even though you’d barely made a name for yourself, and had only recently moved to Seoul, Director Kim Namjoon took you in like a mentee and gave you a job himself as his PA. The experience you’d gotten there, as well as that vital exposure, had kept you business-savvy throughout your career, and once you were in a position to give back, you donated almost all of your original canvases to the museum in his name. Maybe one day you’d return home to Seoul and tell Namjoon of the boy who lived on a faraway island, the boy who taught you to open up again. Would Taehyung still be with you then? Though it hasn’t been long, it’s hard to comprehend a life without Taehyung. All you can visualise is a great absence, a lack. You banish the thought from your mind with a shake of your head, glancing back up to see the boy himself boldly setting a skewer of marshmallows on fire in the orange heat. “I hope that’s your one,” you joke weakly as he puffs out the blue and orange that lick at the blackening lumps.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what my favorite work is?” he asks instead, ignoring your statement.

You stay silent for a moment, observing the way he discards the charred skewer in his lap and delicately toasts the other one, swivelling the base so that each side of the marshmallow stack warms to a golden brown. Once he pulls it out, he hands it to you with an expectant quirk of his brow. You take the stick with a slightly suspicious smile. “What’s your favorite, Taehyung?”

“Your next one,” he answers immediately, gaze locked on yours.

You blame the heat radiating off the bonfire for the warmth in your cheeks as you suppress a smile. “Alright then,” you say decisively.

“Alright what?”

“Alright, I’ll dye your hair for you.”

He grins broadly, eyes crinkling into crescent moons as he starts eating his thoroughly-burnt marshmallows. “Tomorrow,” he announces, melted strings of pink and white pooling in the corner of his lips. “Let’s meet at the convenience store and you can pick the colour.”

You smirk at the way he devours the toasted marshmallows with childish glee. “You’ll regret that when you come out of this with highlighter orange hair.”

He chucks his leftover stick into the grocery bag you brought your supplies in, letting himself collapse backwards onto the heated sand. “I think I could pull it off,” he deflects calmly. “Just you see.”

Breath taken away by the peace on his face as he closes his eyes, your mind works dizzily, desperate to find something to keep him talking, to keep this moment between you alive. “Maybe you could get a job as air traffic control. Or a streetlight. Just you wait; it’ll be orange orange.”

Taehyung’s face warms in a lazy smile as he hums. He looks so peaceful lying there that you’re tempted to join him, but you choose instead to shuffle back from the fire so that you can see his face better. His hair’s splayed out over the sand, and you can see the warm flickers from the bonfire play over his neck, his jaw, and the tip of his nose. Taehyung’s right; orange does suit him. “I had a dream, you know. Last night.”

You feel - with the gentle breeze and the silence of the sea surrounding you - that perhaps you’re in a dream right now. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” his low voice hushes, barely louder than the popping of wood on the fire. “We weren’t on the island, we were in Seoul. Your wing of the Leeum Museum.”

You laugh shallowly, not wanting to make much noise for a reason you couldn’t quite pinprick. “I don’t have a wing at the Leeum.”

“You did in my dream,” he defends resolutely, the beginnings of a boxy smile tugging at his lips. “Anyway, we were in your wing, and I remember being so confused because I didn’t recognise any of them. But you told me they were all new. They were paintings of m-” he cuts himself off a beat too late, lips pressed together.

Your heart falters, a rush of adrenaline that flows to the ends of your fingers and toes. You fight to keeo your voice steady. “Maybe it was a premonition.”

Resting on his stomach, Taehyung’s hands twitch, his fingers twisting together. His smile flattens into a tense line and his eyelids squeeze shut tightly. “I don’t wanna get my hopes up,” he admits quietly after a short pause of thought.

Looking back, you can’t remember your thought process, or where your boldness comes from. Maybe something about the way the moment felt detached from reality, a timeless bubble of the two of you that sat adjacent to your real life, separate from consequence. Maybe it was the brief glimpse of pink as he wets the inner seam of his lips. Maybe you’ve just wanted this for too long to think rationally anymore.

Whatever it is, you swallow past the dryness in your mouth, bend down, and press a kiss to his lips.

Taehyung goes completely still at first. You’re cross-legged on the sand, knees faced to his side, and when you kiss him, it’s on enough of an angle that you feel his nose brushing your cheekbone, and you can feel your hair falling down either side of your face like silken rain. He stays still, though, and you press a little harder, just for a moment, before his lack of response shatters your streak of confidence.

With a minute sigh of regret, you lift off of him, ready to sit up again and apologise profoundly. But before there’s more than a few centimeters of air between you, his hand is suddenly snaking around the nape of your neck, fingers slipping up into your hair as he pulls you back down.

When you collide again with a gasp, his mouth is parted, and his teeth scrape against your bottom lip with his urgency. Losing your balance, you throw your outside arm over him, palm plunging into the sand just beside his head, and let your upper torso rest on his his.

“Taehyung,” you sigh onto his lips, shivering when his free hand rests hotly on your waist, thumb slipping under the hem of your shirt to rub maddenly over the sensitive skin of your stomach. “Oh, Taehyung.”

His lips are sticky with the remains of the toasted marshmallows, and tentatively you seek out that sweetness, kissing deeper, letting your tongue slide over the pinkened skin. He holds you so gently, like you’re made of glass, yet his mouth on yours is pure fire, and your breath comes in little gasps, bursts of oxygen that only fan the flames higher. It takes you a few moments to realise the humming in his throat and the motion of his lips are words, so softly spoken, but once you do you slow your movements to a languid stream to better hear them.

“...so beautiful, I’ve wanted to do this for so long, I must be dreaming…” He speaks with his eyes half-lidded, like he doesn’t want to fully lose sight of you, uttering words between sweet kisses, strong hands cradling you so carefully. He presses his lips against yours one last time and moves his hand from your neck to your face, thumbing tenderly at your cheekbone. “God, I’m so lucky to be by your side,” he gasps. “And when you paint new works and attend exhibits, I’ll still be by your side.”

His words are sweet, but something about them strikes an odd note in your chest, and you pull back slightly, shaking off his hands.

He looks at you with wide eyes and swollen lips which are parted in a confused pout. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s my paintings,” you whisper disbelievingly, “isn’t it? That’s why you think you like me. You like my paintings, and you think it’s somehow the same thing.”

He frowns, shuffling back to sit up, further apart from you than you’d been all night. “No,” he says automatically, “I like you, I just… I think you’re talented, and I want to help you-”

“It’s not your place to help me,” you snap back, and Taehyung flinches. “I’m not some- some out-of-order printer that just needs some TLC to start pumping out pages again. You’re a fan, Taehyung, not a fucking therapist.”

He lets those words sit in the air until they sour, staring at you with eyes shiny and lips trembling. “I know that,” he says, voice cracking, “I know that. I just- Just because you had issues with the Met Gala exhibit doesn’t mean you have to run away and hide, you know?”

Your mouth falls open. “I… I didn’t have issues with the Met Gala, okay, Taehyung? I blanked. Every time I tried to paint something for the exhibit, it sucked. I hated it. And then, eventually, I stopped being able to paint anything at all. It was like I just- I just couldn’t. And the Director kept calling, but I couldn’t answer him because I was so fucking humiliated, and you get the day of the Met and the walls are empty because Y/n L/n is a fucking failure. So it’s not- You can’t fix me, Taehyung. I’m just broken.”

The fire spits, crackles, as it smoulders down, nothing more than hot coals that barely light the surroundings. Taehyung, face slowly darkening to shadow, doesn’t say anything. Just sits. Waits.

You sniff, looking down at your hands. “My point is, Tae-” and you scoff at yourself for using a nickname at a time like this, “You shouldn’t like me. I have nothing to give you anymore.”

Sand sticks to your bare legs when you stand, but you make no attempt to brush it off. Though it’s nearly complete darkness, you see Taehyung’s hair shift as he tips his head up to watch you. Rather than speak back, he waits in the pitch black of the extinguished bonfire and lets you go.

Later, in the unforgiving silence of your bungalow, you find yourself gravitating not towards your bed but towards your suitcase, to the small wooden chest of travel paints you had brought never expecting to use.

It’s easier to paint than to think on your regrets and mistakes, and so you let your mind go black, your palette filling with shades of brown, ochre and beige, as well as a single swatch of teal.

The entire next day sees you in a sleep-deprived fervour, the entire main room of your bungalow cleared out and transformed into a makeshift studio, paintings drying on emptied bookshelves, sheets of old newspaper covering the carpet covered in stray spots of colour, the kitchen bench housing your mismatched array of paints and tools.

After finishing your first painting, you’d collapsed onto your bed as the sun began to rise, too exhausted to wash the dried paint off your hands and brow. But it only took a few moments of rest before you felt yourself sinking into a glum quicksand, sucked in by all the emotions swirling in your chest. Suffocated by the sole image of Taehyung, sitting alone on the sand in the dark as you walked away.

So, you’d gotten up, fed the itch in your hands and picked up a brush once more, and let yourself be taken by the mindless haze of work, of colours and angles and perspectives, starting to paint the knuckles on one canvas while you waited for the eyes to dry on another.

Just after 10am, your housekeeper had knocked on the door, and you’d had to play sick so that she wouldn’t come inside. If they kept your deposit or charged you damages for a stray lick of paint on some surface, what did it matter?

You threw yourself so intensely into these paintings, that weren’t art so much as sighs of relief, or buoys in a churning sea. It was all too easy to let your mind latch onto the task of mixing colours, of choosing techniques, of mastering proportions. Normally, you’d work in front of a landscape, or take a photo and paint it later, wanting to get things right, but Taehyung comes to mind with startling clarity.

Soon, your bungalow fills with artworks - some painted on newspaper, or pages of a book when you run out of canvases. Vistas of those moments with him like clustered vignettes: his eyes with orange glints reflected in them from that night with the bonfire; his hands wringing his sodden sweater the day you got caught in the rain; a boxy smile, the first time he ever grinned at you like that; and finally, just as your hands begin to shake too much to hold the brush steady, a lone silhouette walking down a dune, tiny dog tugging at the leash in his hand. The memories flow in reverse, like some sort of undoing, a wish to go back in time and do things right, to be better for him, to do right by him.

When you set the brush down one final time, fingers trembling with exhaustion, it’s nearly midnight. You realise with a dull pang that you’d forgotten to go down to the township to buy Taehyung hair dye. You realise he probably wouldn’t have come down either.

Your face is stiff in places where swipes of paint have dried, and your hair is tangled, thrown up a half-hearted ponytail that keeps threatening to slip, but as you stare around the chaos of the room, at the fevered paintings of him, only him, always him, your heart knows what to do. Whether you like it or not, you can’t go back in time and start new, start fresh. But you can go forward, and you know exactly where your feet will take you.

Well, maybe not exactly, because you’ve never been to Taehyung’s house. But shoving on some sneakers and wrappin yourself up in a jacket, you figure you can find it. The island’s population was barely fifty, and all the houses were in the same sleepy neighborhood behind the main street.

It’s after knocking on exactly twenty-six doors that you realise maybe you should just ask if the stranger knew Taehyung’s address, rather than leaving when somebody unfamiliar answered the door. Shivering, even with the thick padded jacket you’re bundled in, you decide that the next house better be the last. If they didn’t know where Tae was, you could just come back and pick up where you left off tomorrow.

The street is so silent that your sneaker soles on the gravel fill the void entirely, amplified in the chilled night air. As you went on, and the moon passed the center of the sky, less and less people even opened their doors, some that did scolding you for waking them at such an hour. You’d feel bad, only your mind’s entirely locked on one single person.

The next house you reach is small, like most of them, but looks particularly well-groomed compared to most. A gleaming white postbox with the number 13B rests beside the driveway and footpath, both of which are bordered by lush, freshly-mowed grass, almost black in the darkness. Like a beacon, a single lamplight shines white-yellow above the front door, and your eyes ache with the warm brightness as you knock.

After fifteen or so seconds, you hear muffled movement inside, and straighten your back expectantly, mentally running through your speech. A light turns on behind lacy curtains to the left, and eventually a blurred silhouette approaches in the foyer, unlocking the door.

You put on your most sympathetic smile and take in a breath when it cracks, revealing an older woman in mismatching winter pyjamas. “I’m so sorry to wake you, ma’am, but I was wondering if you knew a boy called-” As your eyes search the old woman’s face, you freeze. You know those eyes. “K-Kim Taehyung?” you finish, blinking widely at the woman who somehow looks so familiar.

Rather than grumble about the time or huff, she smiles broadly, lips tugging up in a boxy smile. “Well, of course, he’s my grandson!” The smile drops, brows furrowing in concern. “Is he alright?”

You suck in a breath through your teeth, eyes widening. “I- oh my goodness, I’ve heard so much about you,” you gush, her eyes crinkling fondly at your words. “Sorry, uh- yes, Taehyung is okay, I just-” You stop yourself, trying to steady your racing heart. “Mrs. Kim, you probably don’t even know me, but I did something bad and I need to make it right with him and I just… I think I’m in love with your grandson.” The moment you finish, something in your heart settles at the sound of the words lingering in the air.

She takes her time to reply, letting the words sink into her with a thoughtful sigh. “Darling, am I right in assuming your name is Y/n?”

You swallow quickly. “Yes, that’s right.”

She nods with a fond smile, a glimmer in her eye. “Then I think there’s something you should come see.”

“Inside?” After she waves you in and guides you to slip off your shoes and step into some house slippers instead, you find yourself awkwardly following her down a homely, perfumed hallway. “By the way, I’m so sorry for waking you.”

She waves it off before you even finish your sentence, sending you a kind wink. “No bother to me, lovie. I’m just glad you didn’t wake the dog.”

“The dog?” you mumble to yourself, before halting suddenly as Mrs. Kim pauses in front of a door, hand resting on the glass knob.

“My grandson’s been visiting me more lately, you see,” she explains, turning the knob to reveal a room in complete darkness, nothing inside visible. “He had so much to tell me and so much to do, became as hyper as a boy on Christmas morning! He told me not to go in here, but I couldn’t help myself.”

You step inside on her indication, breath caught in your throat as your eyes struggle to adjust. “I don’t understand…”

“Lovie, don’t worry about whatever went wrong with you two. You love him and… Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic, but it’s clear he loves you too.” And with that, she flicks the light on and the room comes into focus.

A barn. That’s the first thing you see. A painting of a bright, sprawling barn with a tiny dilapidated kennel in its shadow, wobbly letters spelling out YEONTAN. On the wall directly across from the door rests the original painting of The Barn at Icheon, close to a meter wide and half a metre high. The question of why he’d keep this prized possession of his in a random room barely bigger than a closet dies on your tongue as you turn, seeing the other walls.

A sketch of a bird you’d seen and wanted to show him, clumsily sketched on the back of a receipt with a pen from the lady at the grocery store checkout; a smudged map of your old neighborhood in Seoul that he’d made you draw on a napkin when you were explaining to him how far away the art supply store was; a tourism pamphlet that you and Taehyung had found on a park bench, drawing little Bigfoot silhouettes on the pictures of mountains and mermaids on the beaches. Every one of these thoughtless scrawls, careless scribbles and hurried drawings are here, each one framed or mounted like in a gallery, in order of the time they were made. You turn around slowly, barely noticing Taehyung’s grandmother in the doorway, giving you a knowing look. Finally, on the last wall, the trail of pieces disappear with a final creation, a canvas.

Feeling tears gather in your eyes, you look at the black smear of a mailbox, the wonky shops, the two tall trees incongruously planted in the middle of the street. And, in the bottom right corner painted meticulously in teal, the same teal as his hair, Y/n and Taehyung.

You let out a sob, turning back to Mrs. Kim. “Thank you for showing me this,” you make out in a voice thickened with tears, “but I really need to see him. Can you please give me his address?”

With a look of warm empathy, she steps forward to clasp your shoulders gently, maternally. “He told me about what happened, luvie. He doesn’t blame you.”

Trembling, you wipe the wetness from your cheeks and sniff. “He should,” you admit sullenly, “he’s too good for me. He’s been nothing but kind and patient and caring and all I’ve done is let him down.” Something occurs to you, and you frown in confusion. “Wait… Did he stop by and tell you?”

Her hands squeeze your upper arms comfortingly before dropping them and stepping back. “Oh honey,” she coos, and your heart stops as she steps aside out of the doorway, letting another, taller figure enter the room.

“Taehyung,” you whisper in shock, but before you can even comprehend his presence, his arms are around you, pulling you against his chest in a tight hug. You feel thick layers of pressure and worry evaporate off of you with a single moment, lungs filling with the familiar scent of him, body relaxing with his chin resting on your head and his arms cradling you. For what feels like a small eternity, you let yourself be fully enveloped in him, an indescribable catharsis of finally being in his arms once more. As your tears dry on the soft flanelette of his pyjama shirt and your fingers clutch at his back, you feel a thought transform into a certainty. “I love you, Taehyung,” you confess quietly, and his whole body shudders with a sob, arms tightening around you even more.

“I love you so much,” he confesses lowly, chest rumbling against your ear as he speaks. “And please don’t ever call yourself broken. You’re not. I didn’t love the art, I loved you. Because the art is a part of you Y/n, whether it’s perfect or not.”

“Tae,” you breathe shakily, his name the only word on your lips.

A soft voice comes from the hallway, Taehyung’s grandmother quietly excusing herself to “leave the two lovebirds alone.” You barely notice, lost in the way Taehyung gently rocks you back and forth in his arms, soothing you.

“I missed you,” you hear Taehyung whisper into your hair, nuzzling his nose gently.

Though you shiver at the feeling, you let out a teary laugh. “I saw you a day ago.”

“But it wasn’t the same then,” he insists softly, and a slow breath escapes you weakly. “It’s okay; you’re here now. You-” he breaks off to swallow, and when he speaks again his voice is much quieter, paper thin. “You won’t walk away again, will you?”

You answer by tipping your head up to look him in the eyes warmly, rising onto the tips of your toes so that you can reach his mouth, pressing a kiss against it tenderly. “Never,” you answer surely, “I promise.”

When he smiles, it’s beautiful - that big, boxy grin you saw that day on the dunes, that day you agreed to paint with him, and so many times since. But it never fails to make you melt, lips automatically returning the gesture. “Now,” he announces with a bemused lilt in his voice. “As much as I love this makeout session in my grandma’s closet, it is 2am. Shall we go get some rest?”

Sleep comes quickly once you have Taehyung’s arm around you and your face in the crook of his neck, and you let it take you, knowing you’ll have time to savor the feeling of sleeping beside him for many days to come.

You take him home the next day.

He hadn’t ever been to the bungalow before, but now there was something you desperately wanted him to see. You hadn’t cleaned up before you’d suddenly began roaming the streets of the island, and as he stares around at the chaos, you kind of wish you had. “It’s pretty messy, but…”

“No,” he deflects, mouth parted and eyes wide in wonder, “don’t apologise, this is- wow.” He steps further into the room, stepping over discarded paint tubes, dried canvases and uncleaned brushes. He takes a moment to take in each work. Every single one of them a snapshot of him. “How- When did you do all this?”

You bite your lip, loitering in the entryway. “From when I got back that night until I decided to come looking for you.”

He furrows his brow, fingers gently skimming the top edge of the painting that rests on the easel in the center of the room, the first one you’d painted. His teal growouts, his uneven eyes, the moles dotted so intricately on his face. Your Tae. “You haven’t been able to pick up a brush in months, and then...all this?”

“This was easy,” you say with a shake of your head, “it was easy because it was you.”

He turns, then, glancing at you over his shoulder with eyes brimming with affection. “You really love me.”

A disbelieving grin stretches across your lips. “The midnight confession didn’t make it clear enough?”

“It’s not that, I- I can read it,” he explains, stepping back over to you. “The Barn at Icheon is filled with loneliness, and a lot of your other works talk about fear or curiosity or patience. But this is all love. And it’s me.”

“It’s you,” you confirm with a soft smile, “I love you, Taehyung. So much.”

His eyes light up, then, a cheeky glimmer as his hand reaches out, gripping your elbow and giving it a playful shake. “If I’m your mojo then, you should paint something else today,” he bargains, “I wanna see your genius in action. The black mailbox sadly doesn’t qualify.”

Your mouth drops open in mock outrage, shoving his chest with a whine. “That’s not fair! You said you liked it better black.” Looking around at the disaster zone of the bungalow, you sigh. “I also don’t think I have any paintable surfaces left. I missed the housekeeper so I’ll probably get a fine as it is.”

“Use me, then.”

“Haven’t I painted you enough?” you fire back, but Taehyung just shakes his head emphatically.

“Paint on me. Here,” he says, and his hands leave yours in order to find the hem of his shirt, peeling his shirt off and tossing it into a far end of the room. “A big old waterfall, right down the middle. Rock pool at the bottom.”

“Stop it!” You blush fiercely, hands coming up to cover your cheeks as your eyes feast on his chest, the smooth planes and taut skin, a beautiful golden bronze. “Taehyung…”

For the first time, he doesn't press further. Instead, his shoulders sag, teasing facade slipping. "I'm sorry, you don't have to. I'll stop."

Inexplicably, you find yourself wanting to prove you aren't fragile anymore, unbroken just as he'd insisted you were last night. "I can do it," you protest, stepping away from him to fossick for some usable brushes. "Lie down, then."

Taehyung freezes. "Uh. Yeah, yeah, okay, gimme one sec, I'll just-" With the enthusiasm of a boy having his first kiss, Taehyung hunkers down on the newspaper-covered carpet, shuffling some tools and tubes and palettes out of the way. He looks beautiful like that, chest rising and falling shakily with anticipation, warm brown eyes widened on you. "You don't have to paint a waterfall, you know," he assures hurriedly. "Whatever you do will be perfect."

Heart leaping at his words, you feel a streak of confidence deep inside you, and instead of sitting beside him, you straddle his hips with a newly-filled palette in one hand and a brush in the other. "I want you to guess," you announce from above him, eying his chest and wondering how the colours might fill the space. "Guess what I'm painting. It'll be fun!"

Taehyung's throat bobs with a harsh swallow, nodding quickly. "O-okay, yeah, let's do that," he agrees weakly.

You smile warmly, and begin dipping into a forest green, coating the tips of the bristles. Bending down, you mark a single point of green on the top of his chest, just below his collarbone. The moment the cool paint touches his skin, Taehyung shudders, eyes falling shut. "Okay?" you check. He nods again, chest heaving, and so you continue tracking colour, gradual swoops downwards. Each drag of the brush makes Taehyung's breath catch, and you watch as goosebumps break out on his bare arms.

"Feels nice," he mumbles, lips barely moving like he didn't even intend to speak.

Your lip twitches, but still you focus, topping up the brush whenever the lines became too spotty. After trailing down to just above the level of his belly button, you raise the brush again, starting a new form on the other side of his chest, this one smaller. "Any idea what it is?" you question, but Taehyung just sighs airily.

Once you're finished with the forest green, you wipe your brush off on the edge of your palette and go for a deeper shade, pressing in shadows under each swipe of green. It's once you're working on the bottom half of the second structure that you begin to feel a hardness between your legs, the point where you're straddling him. Shocked, you look up, but Taehyung's covered his eyes with the back of his hand, face turned to the side with reddened cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he croaks out once he feels you stop. "Didn't mean to."

With a fond smile, you lean down, careful not to smudge the wet paint, and gently kiss the corner of his mouth. His fingers twitch and his lips part in surprise, but he otherwise stays still. "It's okay," you soothe, "if it's any consolation, I feel the same way right now."

Like a switch is flipped, Taehyung lifts his hand and tucks his chin, looking down at where the two of you are pressed together, then back up at your face. "Seriously?"

You laugh warmly. "Taehyung, I love you and you're currently lying beneath me, half-naked, writhing every time the brush touches you. Of course I'm turned on."

His cheeks flush hotter and he bites his lip. "You can- you can keep going. Keep painting."

Obediently continuing to fill in the shadow across his stomach, you grin. "Still no guesses on what I'm painting? I'm almost done, you know."

He cranes his neck down further, but the angle prevents him from seeing much. "Some-something green? I'll be honest with you, my focus really isn't-fuck!"

You suppress a laugh as he shudders, hands reaching out to clutch at your pants. Having finished the shadow, you'd mixed a paler green to add some light points on the tops, and one of those swipes had just happened to land across the top of one of his nipples, already stiff from arousal. You continue dipping colour here and there, smirking at the paint that covers the dark brown of his right nipple.

"You tease," Taehyung complains with furrowed brows. "Fuck, that felt good. Please tell me you need to paint the other one too."

You hum in mock thought, transferring your brush to the hand with the palette so that you can reach out, swiping a thumb over the sensitive flesh. Taehyung's whole body jerks, his hips beginning to grind under you, the dull friction pulling a pleasured sigh from your lips that's blessedly drowned by his drawn-out moan. "Why the pout, Tae? This was your idea."

"Next time I'm holding the paintbrush," he promises, hips moving slowly beneath you, eyes lidded as they focus on you, "then you won't be so cocky."

His words send a hot rush of arousal through you, and you rock your hips unconsciously, swallowing a moan. "Next time," you repeat breathily, "but for now I'm almost done."

It only takes a few more touches of pale green, followed by two vertical strokes of brown, before you're putting your tools aside, and standing up off of him.

Taehyung groans in complaint when your hips leave him, his casual grey sweatpants tented and a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. "Where are you going?"

"Come see," you guide, tugging at his hand. "I have a mirror in my room."

He gets up, palming himself with a pout before following you down the hall, pulled along by your interlocked hands. Once in front of the mirror, Taehyung lifts his eyebrows at just how wrecked he looks. Bottom lip swollen from biting at it, hair mussed and sticking up, and a burst of green slowly drying on his torso. "It's...trees?"

"It's us," you explain softly, "like that painting we did together the first time." From beside him, you reach around to gently tap each figure, two tall fir trees, the one on his right taller than the one on his left. "One for you and one for me."

Before you can pull your arm back, his hand comes up to flatten yours against his chest, hands going cold where the paint is still wet in places.

"Tae, you'll smudge it."

"Y/n," he said slowly, head turning to look at you, eyes brimming with affection, "will you let me make love to you?"

Your breath catches, and rather than trusting your voice, you nod wordlessly.

With a deep exhale, he bends down and joins your lips with his, a hand coming up to bury itself in your hair, keeping you close. His lips are hot against yours, passionate and wanting, and your stomach warms with desire. Clumsily, your fingers find the hem of your shirt, lifting it as far as you can before you have to break apart from him, flinging it away once it clears your head.

"The bed?" Taehyung pants in the moments his mouth is free, and you nod, shucking off your jeans before getting onto the mattress in just your bra and panties. "God, you're beautiful," he chants, "how did I get so lucky?"

He slips out of his sweatpants and joins you sitting on the edge, but your eyes linger on his face, the way his eyes soften and crinkle when they meet yours. "I'm the lucky one," you reply simply.

You shiver when a large palm runs up your bare thigh, warm and grounding. "Can I go down on your first?" he asks with a pleading gaze.

You laugh weakly. "I'm definitely the lucky one." In confirmation, you lie yourself back, scooting so your head rests on the pillows.

Hand now having slid down your leg to rest over your ankle, he wraps his fingers around and lifts it off the bed delicately, your knee crooking and legs parting. Smoothly, he slips himself in the gap, lying on his stomach and letting your raised leg rest on his shoulders. With eyes heavy on you, he leans forward slowly and licks a strip over your clothed pussy, a dull kiss of friction across your clit. You groan, head lolling back, and he takes it as his initiative to continue, sucking at the juices that have dampened your panties until the whole crotch is wet, your thighs shaking slightly with your increased sensitivity.

"Tae, please," you breath out, "I wan' more."

A finger slips below the hem of your panties, just over your hipbone. "Should we take these off?" You nod with a needy whimper, lifting your hips to give him easier access.

He sits up to slide them down your legs, calmly spreading your thighs again when you get the self-conscious urge to close them. With only your bra on, you feel so vulnerable, but rather than scaring you, you feel at peace, so happy to be having this moment with Taehyung.

When he shuffles back into place again, he takes his time, his warm breath tickling your inner thighs. At your needy wiggle of your hips, he chuckles and rubs soothingly at the top of your leg where it's crooked over his shoulder, finally dipping his head again to lick at you.

He starts out maddeningly light, the very tip of his tongue flicking slowly over your clit, tentatively venturing out to dip between your folds. You reach out for his hand, needing something to anchor you, and he smiles against you as he interlocks your fingers, keeping you grounded.

"So good, Tae," you encourage, moaning openly when his tongue trails lower and dips between your folds, over your entrance. "Fuck, so good."

Rather than answer verbally, Taehyung doubles his efforts and begins to speed up, lapping at your core and suckling your clit.

Every breath is a moan or a whimper, overtaken by pleasure, but you let yourself drown in it, letting Taehyung eat you out like a man starved. With one hand on your upper thigh and one entwined with yours, he's got no fingers free to play with you, but expertly he brings you to your peak with just his tongue, thrusting it inside you as his nose nudges at your clit.

When you feel your orgasm quickly approaching, your moans heighten and your back begins to arch, hips grinding against him desperately. Taehyung chuckles, the sound vibrating against you and making you shudder, and his hand slips high to press against your waist instead, holding you in place for him. Your thighs tense around him, praises and curses and his name spilling from your lips incoherently.

It's one last nibble at your clit, pulling it into his mouth and dragging his tongue over it, your vision whites out with the force of your orgasm, jerking beneath him and crying out wantonly, overcome with pleasure. He works you through it diligently, groaning as you come down from your high with weak shivers, his tongue never ceasing until you push at his head from oversensitivity.

He lets your leg down carefully, kissing his way up your bare stomach, the swells of your breasts and your throat until his lips are on yours and you can taste yourself on him, feel the ends of his hair tickling against your cheeks.

"That was incredible, Tae," you pant out, feeling boneless beneath him as he takes charge of the kiss, tugging at your lips and licking into your mouth. "I need you," he gasps, and you moan throatily when his clothed crotch grinds against your bare core, the fabric of his underwear catching on your sensitive clit. He's hard, probably painfully so, and all you want is to feel him inside you.

Desperate, your fingers slip behind you, arching your back so that you can deftly release the clasp of your bra, pulling it off hastily before reaching for his underwear. "I need you too, Tae," you plea, "please hurry."

His fingers, slightly cool from the air, slide down your stomach and between your thighs, making you jump as he slips two inside, thrusting them slowly. You're still sensitive, and his mouth falls to your ear, hushing you and pressing encouraging kisses to your temple as you whimper. "Doing so well for me," he praises, "just gotta make sure you're ready, okay?"

"O-okay," you make out, sucking in a breath when he pulls out and presses a third finger inside you, picking up his pace. Gradually, the prickling overstimulation warms into pleasure again, and you rock your hips to seek more friction, free hand coming up to wrap around his neck and shoulders, holding him close.

With no bra on, your full chest is flat against his, and as the paint dries it drags over your nipples, making you arch your back, seeking out the friction.

The warmth between your legs tightens with the extra stimulation, and your breath begins to catch, feeling another orgasm oncoming.

"Close?" Taehyung murmurs in your ear as he widens the gaps between his fingers inside you, scissoring to stretch you even more. You nod hastily, moans getting stuck in your throat, pushed out with every gasped breath. Taehyung hums in response, and you whimper when you feel his fingers slipping out of you completely. Before you can protest, the blunt head of his cock slips between your sopping folds, Taehyung running it up and down to coat himself in your slick.

"Fuck, yes, please Tae, I'm ready," you babble, legs lifting to wrap around his hips, attempting to pull him in closer.

He chuckles, but it's cut off prematurely by a hissed breath of pleasure as he lines up and begins to sink his length into you, a delicious feeling of fullness after his fingers left you so empty. Taehyung enters you slowly, letting you adjust, and you feel completely enveloped by him; his voice in your ear, his hand in yours, his cock inside you.

"Need you, Tae," you whine once he stills, bottomed out, "please move."

"Are you ready?" You wiggle your hips with a groaned yes, arm tightening around him as he pulls back. He stops when just his head still rests inside you, pauses for a moment with a moan as you clench around him, and then plunges back in with one slick thrust.

You cry out, satisfied smile stretching tiredly across your face as he finally begins a steady rhythm, favoring deeper thrusts that make your toes curl. "Yes, Tae, so good!"

"God, you're still so tight," he groans throatily, "so good for me."

On the edge before, you find yourself close after only a few minutes, and you tell him with a shaky breath. Taehyung lets out a relieved exhale as he continues to thrust into you. "Thank fuck," he huffs out, panting a word at a time, "I'm not gonna last, you drive me crazy."

You press your head against his, nuzzling at it as you unwrap your arm from around his shoulders, instead seeking out your clit for the needed friction to push you over the edge. The added stimulation has you clenching, and Taehyung swears desperately, his pace picking up but shuddering as he gets close.

The two of you pant loudly into the otherwise silent room, filling each others' ears with whimpered moans and slurred praises, until you finally catch the tip of your peak, and with one final drag of his cock inside you, you're falling apart, not suddenly and violently like the first time, but rather a slow, hot wave of pleasure that works its way out from your core, down to your toes and fingertips, clenching tightly around Taehyung until he curses and spills inside you, shuddering through his release.

"I love you so much," you whisper once you come down from your high, a contented exhaustion seeping into your bones.

"I love you too," Taehyung says with a final press of his lips on your temple.

---

"This one's gorgeous. I love the broad lines on the ocean compared to the texture of rocks on the shore. This is at the island, you say?"

You hum in confirmation, smiling at your old friend. "You should see, it, Joonie. There's this little cluster of houses and shops right in the middle but the rest is just open nature. Forests, beaches, everything in the middle. I go there every year."

Kim Namjoon, Director at the Leeum Museum in Seoul and avid nature buff, takes one last look at the landscape canvas and grins. "Ah, twist my arm..." You follow him as he moves down the line of mounted canvases, stopping at a familiar portrait. He furrows his brows and cocks his head. "I feel like I've seen this guy before, something about the face... He didn't have green in his hair though, I must be confused."

You laugh at your friend, spying a shock of red through the swathes of people. "You have seen him before," you explain, catching the figure's eye, "you would have seen him here tonight."

In front of you, Namjoon raises his brows. "Oh, really? Who is he, then?"

Over Namjoon's shoulder, you watch Taehyung approach, turning heads with his scarlet dye. He gives you a wink, and you grin back. "He's my husband."

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aquariuscurly94 · 4 years ago

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Behind the Dark Sunglasses

Summary: All Wally wants to do is to enjoy his time with his handsome boyfriend Nightwing. However, he can't stand his dark sunglasses and truly wants to know who he truly is because he is dying to know what color his eyes were. Will he finally tell him?

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the DC or the YJ universe!!! Just the plot lol.

AN: I am back with another Birdlfash fic!! Gosh, I just fucking love these two togetherrrrrrr and I hope that you guys will enjoy this little beauty. Sadly it is not smutyyyyy but there is somewhat sexual content in here lol.

Wally West has no idea if heaven is even real but hey, he lives in a world with superheroes and he’s one of them, so anything is possible at this point these days. Right now, at this moment, this feels like he’s in heaven. “Fuck,” he muttered through grounded teeth, throwing his head back and closed his green eyes and used a hand to grab a fist full of dark hair that was between his legs. “Babe. Shit.”

He heard a low chuckle that he knows all too well and had opened one eye to see his raven-haired boyfriend stroking his member with a hand as he smirked up at the older speedster above him. “Enjoying this?” he asked him, using another hand to push up his dark sunglasses that he would always wear whenever he’s not in his Nightwing uniform.

Wally bit his lower lip so he could focus the warm touch that was on him, frowning when he had looked down at the younger hero’s face or what he could see because of his stupid sunglasses. He sighed. “I would be enjoying it a lot more if I could see your eyes, Nightwing,” he said with a sigh.

He watched Nightwing move away from his legs and knew that the moment between them had ended because of what he had said. The two heroes were silent as he had put himself back into his boxers and jeans that he was wearing, watching Nightwing walking over to sit in his desk chair with a deep frown on his face. “Wing…” he started, running a hand through his short red hair.

“You know why I can’t tell you.”

Wally rolled his forest orbs with a snort and leaned back on his bed until his back touched the headboard. “Yea. I know. It’s because of Batman and his stupid rules. I just thought… that since…never mind. Forget it.”

Neither of them said anything after a while and Wally watched the younger hero fiddling over his computer that was attached to his watch and Wally sighed. “I’m sorry for ruining things.”

Nightwing turned Wally’s desk chair around to stare at his older boyfriend as he folded his arms over his chest. “You didn’t. You have no idea how much I want to tell you about me,” he said with a quiet sigh, threading his fingers through his short black hair.

“Can’t you just simply ask him if it is okay? I mean, I told you since the first day The Team was formed,” Wally reminded him in a matter-of-fact tone, shaking his head as he leaned off the headboard and crawled over to the edge of the bed. “I just…” he blushed before continuing. “I just want to see what’s behind those dark sunglasses, especially if things were to get heated again.”

The younger man that was across from the speedster cleared his throat and shifted in his seat nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know Wally. It’s just…” Nightwing paused as he tried to think of a way to explain the situation. “It’s complicated with him. Even if I do try and talk to him it’s still going to be a no.”

Wally studied him for a moment, trying to decide if he truly believes in what he was saying to him. Wally truly understands that the Dark Knight has strict rules when it’s about revealing their secret identity. Heck, he remembers asking his uncle if he knew who Batman truly was and even he didn’t know. He could understand the hesitation of revealing it to him. It makes him slightly wonder if there’s more to it than just the rule that Batman had created.

“There isn’t something else is there? Perhaps another reason as to why I haven’t seen your eyes yet?” The speedster asked slowly, watching his boyfriend’s shoulders tensed up at the question. “There is… isn’t there?”

“If people find out who we are… our enemies can use that against the people that we tell.” Nightwing told him, knowing that it was half the truth in his words. He truly wishes that Wally would drop it and they could go back to what they were doing before. However, he knows how persistent his boyfriend can be at times and he also know that he won’t drop it unless he gets a real answer.

Wally leaned forward on the bed and stared at the younger hero, wishing that he could see what kind of facial expression he was making. He honestly wonders if his eyes were blue, or green or heck hazel. “I understand that babe,” he told him. “But I believe that there’s more to it than that. Am I right?” he asked, hiking a brow at him.

Nightwing didn’t answer him right away and Wally knew that he was right after all. Wally nibbled at his lower lip, trying to think of a way to break the awkward silence that had followed between them. “At least tell me that you’re not a serial killer,” he says in a joking manner and his upper lip curled up when his boyfriend scoffed at him. “That’s not really an answer. I gotta know what I’m dealing with here.”

“No, Wally. I am definitely not a serial killer,” Nightwing told him with a shake of his head. “It’s just…” There was a pause. “I don’t want you to think differently about me if you were to discover my identity,” he said to him honestly as he took a deep breath.

Wally stared at him with wide eyes and got up from his bed to kneel in front of Nightwing. He used his thumb to lift his chin and even though he was wearing sunglasses, he knew that he was staring directly into his green eyes. “Even if you are a serial killer. It wouldn’t change the way that I feel about you, Nightwing. You can trust me. I know that I am an annoying speedster who likes to eat a lot and don’t know when to shut my mouth at times, but I do know on how to shut the fuck up when I need to. Just tell Batman that okay? Maybe then he can finally let you tell me because I am so dying to know what color your eyes are,” he leaned in to give Nightwing a chaste kiss on his lips. “I love you. So damn much.”

Wally knows that it was rare for Nightwing to cry and when he saw a train of tears flowing from his sunglasses, he gently wipes them off with his fingers. “I love you too, Wally and…” Wally froze when he watched Nightwing reached up with shaky fingers to slowly take off his sunglasses. “And I want—”

Wally reached up with his hands to stop Nightwing from removing them. “Babe, I don’t want you to get into trouble. If he finds out…”

“Didn’t you just tell me a moment ago that you know when to shut the fuck up when you need to?”

Wally pressed his lips together in a thin line and rolled his eyes at him. “Yes. But we both know how Batman is. He’s gonna know that you—”

A pair of lips made Wally stop talking and he had moaned when Nightwing’s teeth had bit his lower lip to open it so his tongue to slip inside his mouth. Wally placed a hand onto his chest to gently push him away and licked his lips. “Are you absolutely sure you want to go against Batman’s orders?” he asked breathlessly, gulping when he saw Nightwing’s hands reached up to touch the handles of his sunglasses. “Wing.”

Neither of them said anything to each other as Nightwing slowly took off his dark sunglasses and Wally squinted his eyes as he tried to figure out why his eyes were close and why the heck he had looked so familiar even though he has not seen his eyes yet. “You can back out anytime. I won’t be mad,” he promised him in a reassuringly way.

“No. I want to do this. Just…don’t freak out, okay?”

Wally cocked his head to the side in confusion by his comment and was about ask him what he had meant by that, but his question was caught in throat when Nightwing had finally open his eyes and Wally’s whole body froze when he did.

Blue. His eyes were blue.

It was so blue, Wally thought he was staring into an ocean and the more he stared into them deeply he was finding himself lost in them and honestly, he wouldn’t mind being lost in them and the more he had studied his boyfriend’s face the more he realized as to why he had looked so familiar to him. He had to blink several times in order to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him and even rubbed them just in case.

“R-Richard Grayson? You’re—You’re—"

“Actually… I prefer to be called Dick Grayson,” Dick corrected, clearing his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He sat still in the desk chair when Wally continued to stare at him in shock. “Wally—” he started, trying to come up a way to make this whole Secret Identity Reveal less awkward.

“It makes sense,” Wally interrupted him, eyeing him up and down. “As to why the Dark Knight was so harsh on the whole ID thing…which means,” his mouth fell open as the pieces fell into place the more he had thought he had thought about it. “No way…”

Dick Grayson knew what his older boyfriend was smart and that he had figured out the reason by himself but waited until he had said the words before saying anything else. He sucked in a deep breath when wide green eyes met his blue ones and knew what was coming next when he had opened his mouth again.

“Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

Wally watched Dick nod at him slightly and Wally’s mouth made a O shape in shock and Dick sucked in another deep breath as he waits for him to speak again. “You really have pretty eyes, Dick.”

Dick blinked several times as he processed as to what the redheaded speedster just said. He was confused about his statement. Shouldn’t he be more concerned about more important matter at hand? “Is that the only thing that matters right now?” he asked, hiking up a brow at him.

Wally scratched the top of his head as he shrugged his shoulders. “I mean did you want me to freak out over the fact that the billionaire is freaking Batman and that you’re Nightwing?” he asked him, cocking his head to the side when Dick’s shoulders stiffen. The speedster shook his head. “Because I don’t care about that kind of stuff. You know me better than that.” Wally walked closer to where Dick was at his desk and leaned in closer to him when he had brought his face closer to his. “You could be a stripper and I would still love you.”

Dick rolled his sapphire eyes at him. “You’re such a—"

“Sap?” Wally suggested, wiggling his eyebrows when the raven-haired hero snorted at him. He cleared his throat and leaned in to brush his nose against his boyfriend. “I’m being for real though. I would still love you. No matter what, babe.”

“I know,” Dick said with a huge blush on his face. “And I also love you too. Thank you for accepting me.”

“I will always accept you. Don’t forget that. Ever.”

#birdflash #wally x dick #dick x wally #dick grayson #Wally West #young justice fanfiction #somewhat smut #birdflash fluff #kid flash #nightwing

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shyrose57 · 3 years ago

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Oooo maybe some real life plants! but they are .. off somehow, I think that the end should mostly keep its dull very color drained vibes so the colorful things just seem more. So the greens are so gray you could barely call it green, and for subsitute water? Maybe liquid magic. Becasue this place has to run off of magic, they are floating over a void...

SPACE WHALES! Flying Rays, JellyFish! A lot of deep sea horrors fit very nicely into space horrors (and wonders bc I'll cry if the whales are mean :( ) and would do nicely to fill the endless stretches of just void with no land in sight. and Anglerfish... maybe not a fish, or floating in the void like the others but something land bound that uses a hypnotic lure? It lures you in with the feeling of safety and home. There is a reason that the abandoned cities where off the ground :)

Anyways floating over a void, the end (in my head canon) is the source of all magics in Mc (all the planes are connected and it diffuses into the other dimensions, but it is SATURATED in everything in the end, the dragon is pure magic, a manifestation of the end itself, so a lot of things there are magic or sustain themselves on magic (things that stay there (live over generations n stuff our group is fine) get warped by it which could be how over world plants got in there and established themselves, they would not survive in the over world any longer, the sun would kill them, their roots would thirst to death on water. they have magical properties, some of them glow. ) Though there are a lot of End Native plants too (the trees that are only trees when you stretch the definition, that thing that Moves, and has what you could only call teeth but it is not an animal, so it must be a plant) Oooooo maybe the warped fungus ;) I mean everything in the nether is terrified of it, so maybe it doesnt really belong there, and hitched a ride on fleeing endermen

A lot of things glow, (its how we have those stars in the end, they are creatures off in the distance, and whenever the wastelands that stretch on for miles give way to not-trees or shrub-lands, something is gonna glow, which gives the areas eerie shadows that make the wide vulnerable wastelands they came from seem safer than whatever is found in there. The magic running in the rivers sometimes spill out into the abyss and dissipates to start the cycle anew. Things lurk everywhere and kind things are few and far between. The End is full of Life, and That Is Horrifying

Endermen are nomadic and travel in haunts (Im taking this from Human Error :D), and are generally friendly until you look into their eyes (Eyes are windows to the soul, how can they bear to look at you? You are so bright, so Warm. It Sears their eyes, It Burns their very being. Stop looking, It Hurts. Stop Stop Stop-) They are willing to trade and talk Enchanting (So All 3 Dimensions have a Sentient Race :DD) and are very magically inclinded. A lot of mages are endermen or have ender blood in them. The end is very deadly, and Haunts keep eachother alive because their death could mean death of the group (they are very close knit and that leads to very protective (what Im saying is when Tubbo gets back his Husband is going to smother him and fret over one of the 3 members of his Haunt (Tubbo, Michael, and Tommy :) )) when One finds themself without a haunt, many try and find safety in the other dimensions as they will not survive alone in the end.

( I Have more ideas, but the more I think the more I make more and I already think im dumping a lot, so sorry if I wrote too much. I tried to break up the text wall to to make it easier)

Oh, that's a good idea! Mainly dull colors-especially for the more dangerous plants, they'd need to blend in to catch their food. I feel like there'd be some more colorful ones though-the chorus fruits are pretty saturated, after all. Maybe purple colors are brighter, and others are more dull? Or no?

So many space creatures, oh gosh. There'd be very few grounded ones, with so much of the End being void, so sea-based creatures are definitely a good call. That'd be so pretty too?? And we've gotta blur the line between space wonder and eldritch horror for at least a few of them, of course!

The jelly fish are absolutely huge! Massive and glowing through transparent skin, they mainly hang out far from the islands, being mistaken as stars, and their tendrils glow so faintly you can only see them up close. From a distance, they're beautiful, but up close they're terrifying.

Flying rays the size of horses that can be used to cross the void between islands like striders for lava?? Flying rays that's tips fade into an abyssal black so deep it looks they merge into the void? Flying rays with a possible relation to phantoms? Seeking out the sleepless, but only watching, merely drawn to lure them to sleep with the mesmerizing patterns that run along their bodies.

Space whales!!!! Titans so ancient and old, parts of their bodies are overgrown by End islands and forest, making them for all purposes, living, breathing islands. Magic so deeply tied to them that even when they pass, they remain afloat, creating graveyards of still islands, that even still seem to breath when stepped upon. Gentle giants in that they are untouched by anything, and so curious of the new wonders the void welcomes.

A thing that stalks the islands it inhabits, singing out a call that seems ripple across the starry expanse-it sounds like love and warmth and understanding, and it says i love you, the universe loves you, in the same way the poem must rung in your ears, must nestle under your ribs. Love, love, love, it croons. Except then you get too close, and it catches you, and the sound is empty and hollow, and it's grip is tight, and nothing leaves it's arms or island alive, drained of life and magic.

Safety is only in that it is bound to the land, and no creature dares approach it, instinctively knowing of the danger. The islands that even the stars avoid...

Magic dragon?? Yes! Manifestation of the End?? That means it must somehow know how to take the appearance of one. Maybe smaller little space dragons, that play among the bones of the long-gone giant ones. The Ender Dragon isn't as large as they might've been, but it mimics the appearance as best it can-I wonder why. How long has it had that egg, again? How long has it waited for it to hatch?

So we can totally have some of the minecraft plants end-ified! Ooh, and since some adventurers probably brought them there to maybe try surviving in the End, there'd be things like crops and weeds and grass, long mutated as they grow along the ruins of what might've been a home once. E N D M O S S. It glow.

Warped fungus!! But more! Because this one wouldn't have ever been to the Nether, never mutated in such a way. It's home, but somehow, it still feels so very alien to those that look upon it. Maybe no orange?? Orange is Nether-color. Darker blue, or more purple-ish, possibly.

Everything is luminescent. The things that aren't are much more dangerous than the things at are, don't stare into the dark for too long-it might start looking back, and trust me, you don't want that :).

The Endermen Know they are not supposed to be here, even if the newcomers do not Stare with all of the heat and warmth and burn. One may bear the Wings, and two may speak their language, but they are too soft, and colorful, and bright, but not glowing. They are Outsiders, and Outsiders must go home.

Because nothing good comes from those that stay-how do you think that thing knows the universe's lullaby?

They ally with the four, if only to save themselves, but the Outsiders grow on them. Maybe they will visit, but the Outsiders must stay out.

(Ranboo does not let his Haunting out of his sight for awhile. Tommy and Michael too yes, but mainly Tubbo and Phil. They could have strayed too far, they could have not come back. He doesn't Know in the same way the others do, but even he is aware of what he could lose, and what could become)

(Tell me A L L of them, I beg of you)

#So Past The End We Went AU #dream smp #dream smp au

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lightwithinthedarknessu · 3 years ago

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A Crown to Adorn

Starting off #sokaiweek2021 with a fluffy one-shot!

Wrote a little fluffy one-shot for Day 1 of @sokaiweek Prompt: King and Queen. Childhood memories for #sokai and a cute flower date! A time of healing and reminiscence, adorned with flowers fit for a King and Queen.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32511775

Fanfiction. net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13918369/1/A-Crown-to-Adorn

A Crown to Adorn

*.*.*.*

“Wear a crown of flowers on your head, let its roots reach your heart.” – Kabir

*.*.*.*

The smell of the grass, the warmth of the sun on their faces, and the slight scent of honeysuckle wafting through the canopy above was the perfect complement to an otherwise ordinary day. Ordinary, that word seemed to slip into her mind with a lithe bump, nestling into her heart but leaving behind a tinge of anxiety. Was it good to cherish something even if you knew it wouldn’t last? Those words danced within her mind as warm rays of light kissed her cheeks.

Living in the moment. Cherishing those small moments of reprieve-sometimes Kairi had to keep reminding herself to do that. Whether it be taking in deep breaths of the salty air or cherishing the soft sensation of sand squished between her toes- those small insignificant moments she needed to hold close. The way the wind hit her face as Sora and Riku rushed past her in one of their many races or the sensation of cold droplets hitting her face during one of their many water fights. Those moments, they would rush back at her all at once during those times she was alone, listless, and longing for their company.

Somehow, Kairi knew that today would be one of those many moments she held close to her heart. She took in a deep breath, savoring the crisp air hitting her lungs.

The Kingdom of Corona was as beautiful as Sora had claimed it would be. Filled with flora and fauna, clean air, and warm bathes in sunshine. Even the few heartless around were, she had to admit, cute in their own way. Made her almost sad to pummel them, but once she found herself attacking in unison alongside Sora- every thought she had just melted away. He always seemed to do that, make her feel as if she could do anything, be anything. It sounded silly but- his light made hers stronger somehow. It radiated within her a warmth that felt so comforting she never wanted it to leave.

After clearing the area, they had decided to take a quick swim in the spring nearby and were now sunning themselves like a couple of lizards on the forest floor. They had taken off their shoes and fully let themselves relax for what felt like an eternity. Peaceful, it was so peaceful that Kairi felt she could fall into a sleep here without a care in the world.

“I’m glad you brought me here. It’s so pretty.” Kairi turned to Sora, her eyes welling with shimmering light. After hours of training, Sora had dropped by unannounced, unattended by the other two little half-pints, to whisk her away for a “well-deserved break” as he put it. At the time he had a shy grin on his face, letting her know that really, he had just wanted to see her. Not that she minded. She wanted to see him too.

“I had to! I mean you love flowers and well the beach back home isn’t as green as this. Heck, I hadn’t even seen some of the plants here before. It’s really something- all those worlds we wanted to see- just there’s always something new.” Sora blurted out, his excitement burgeoning behind an uncontrollable grin. He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned forward. “Sorry, I’m getting a bit too excited. I’ve been wanting to show you all these new things for so long. Every time I see something I think, “Kairi and Riku need to see this!”

Kairi giggled. Sora did seem to be holding in boundless energy every time she saw him. “I want to see it all with you. I mean, we always wanted to travel and learn everything we could. Even just seeing this world makes me want to go to all kinds of places with you- and Riku too…” Kairi tucked a stray piece of hair from her face. She felt almost embarrassed to say anything more- to tell him that really, she wanted to just run away with him right now. Leave it all behind. But that would be selfish, wouldn’t it? They had to face Xehanort. Even if that meant risking their lives. Still, that incredible wanderlust creaked within her bones. Even now her heart began to beat faster at the thought of Sora whisking her away to world after world. She could just picture it-brisk walks on stardust touched beaches, huddling close in frigid snow-kissed air, or dancing on the tips of their toes across warm cobblestones-

Everything. Just experience it all-together- hand in hand in a world all their own.

Kairi felt something lightly fall on her head. A light gasp escaped her lips at the sensation. It tickled her eyelashes as she looked up to greet Sora’s impish grin. Her hand reached up to touch the delicate petals of a ring of flowers he had placed on her head. Her eyes widened. “When did you…”

“Oh just while you were humming to yourself earlier. Did I do a good job? I mean I’m not as good at connecting them together as you…but I did have a good teacher.” Sora winked.

Tears pricked the edges of her eyes. When they were children, Kairi often spent her time near the shore picking small wildflowers and clover. One of the few things she remembered about her grandmother was her love of flowers and the way she used to weave together flower crowns. It used to make her feel like she was almost home again, weaving the flowers together, creating something from nothing. It was cathartic. For hours she would lose herself in the action- maybe that was why piecing shells together also soon became second nature. Once, Sora sat down next to her, and watched intently as she connected each stem of clover flower without asking any questions. When she was done, he told her how pretty it was and how “he wanted one too.”

For a few days after school, they would go down to the shore, make flower crowns, and pretend they were a King and Queen of the flower people. Well, the last part was entirely Sora’s idea. When she thought back on it- Kairi wondered if Sora did that to help her feel better about being homesick. She had missed her grandmother so badly back then. Every day she felt so alone. But then…Sora was there. And Riku…and the three of them found new things to do together.

Back then, Kairi hadn’t paid a second thought to the idea that most boys wouldn’t find what she was doing that interesting. Thinking about it now, Sora probably only said he wanted one too so she wouldn’t feel lonely- after all…she wasn’t the fastest runner or could hold her own at the time in a mock sword fight. What she was good at was making things, connecting flowers, shells, and bits of shattered sea glass into stars shapes or crowns. Her room back home was filled with makeshift stars, unfinished and marred imitations of the charm Sora now held close as an oath to her. Her childish fantasies of an unbreakable connection, made real and whole through a brush of their fingers as she passed the charm to him. Her fingertips warmed as she recalled his touch.

Now, with the newly coronated flower crown atop her reddened locks-Kairi felt that same bubbling joy well up inside her.

Kairi couldn’t believe Sora had still remembered that time or well had even retained his “flower-tying skills” as he used to call it. Sora had remembered a time that even she had pushed back deep into the depths of her heart. “I think that you retained some skill.” Kairi puffed out her chest. “But I think I’m still the master. So, I’m going to work my magic! It’s only fair that you have one to match.”

Sora chuckled and placed both hands behind his head. “Well, I guess we’re off flower picking then huh?” His hips swayed from side to side, his legs acting listless as if they hadn’t moved in hours.

Kairi bounced up on her heels, feeling a renewed vigor in her veins. “Yep! Lead the way, King!”

“King?” Sora’s jaw slacked. “Gosh, when you say it like that it only reminds me of “the King.”

Kairi lightly patted Sora on the shoulder. “Now, now.” Kairi chided. “There can be more than one King and Kings of different things. He may be “the King” but you- you’re my Flower King right?” An impish grin filled her cheeks. Sora blinked a few times before averting his eyes. She could swear a tinge of red was on the tips of his ears.

“Geez flower King? Don’t tell Riku, or Donald or Goofy- I’ll never live that down.”

“But I’m the flower Queen- we have to match!” Kairi pointed an accusatory finger at him. Sora jumped back a beat, his deep blue eyes tinged with uncertainty. Soon, his eyes swirled with glimmering sunshine, his smile so subtle she found herself itching to gently brush her fingers across his lips. Her cheeks heated at the thought.

“Okay, I mean if you are I have to be then.” Sora put a hand over his mouth to muffle a laugh. Though clearly uncomfortable, there was a hint of joy in those words. Poking fun at him like this was almost too nostalgic. With ease, she slid her hand into his and gave it a tight squeeze. He recoiled slightly before sheepishly squeezing her hand back. His eyes wouldn’t meet hers, but she knew- he was just a tad shy still.

Hand in hand they traversed the woods searching for violet, azure, and fuchsia hues. Their still bare feet brushing against rough patches of dirt and slick grass, staining their toes a light green as they went. The morning dew, still kissing the tips of their hair, kept them cool against the ever-rising sun. Every flower they came across seemed more beautiful than the rest- they gathered until they were spilling out onto the ground beneath them. Sora sneezed a few times, sending them flying much more than he would have liked. The air filled with laughter as they collected them all again, each time regretting having over-prepared their bounty.

They returned to the clearing in no time at all-and she set about her work. Connecting the flowers together wasn’t hard- but choosing which flowers suited Sora best- well that took some thinking. Baby’s breath, delicate and kind, hydrangeas as blue and calming as the sea, red carnations brandishing the passionate courage in his heart, and yellow calla lilies to represent his happy disposition. When she was done- it was a crown only befitting him. When she held it up against the light, the shadows cast across her face danced- truly she could think of it as her best work yet. Smirking and a bit too proud, Kairi stood up and delicately laid the crown atop her “King’s” head.

“I, Flower Queen Kairi dub thee- Sora- Flower King.” In a grand bow, Kairi placed a hand over her heart, glancing up at him with mischief and mirth.

Sora’s wide toothy grin greeted her. “It’s an honor!” He paused, searching his mind before snapping his fingers in the realization of something important. “Does it look Kingly?”

“I think it suits you, just as mine suits me.” Kairi spun on her heels, dancing as she delicately brushed the petals she adorned. She gave Sora a taunting wink as she thrust out her hand. “I’d say a dance is in order, sire.”

A deep laugh escaped his chest as Sora jumped up to grab her hand and pull her close. Their eyes connected as if a thread between them became taught, sure, and certain that the entire world around them could just melt away into nothing, and it would all be alright. One step, then two, a sway and a swish, he even threw in a twirl or two as they danced to the bubbling brook and twilling birds. The melody in their hearts flowed and swirled at a tempo that pulled her into a sense of weightlessness. The countless times she dreamed of the two of them, blissfully dancing, suddenly made it real.

It was real, him, her, this moment. It was a sensation, a scent, a feeling she wanted to bottle up and keep close- like an herbarium filled with preserved flowers. Bright, opulent, and ever so warm. As their dance slowed, and her heart settled, Kairi leaned her head on Sora’s shoulder, letting herself melt into his rising chest. It was then Kairi knew that home wasn’t ever far anymore. That homesickness had long flitted away like petals in the wind once she let Sora into her heart. Now, every time she thought of their memories, these moments, the rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat…Kairi knew somehow she was always closer to home.

Years Before

*.*.*.*

The bluff at the edge of town was filled with clover flowers. Though she had been warned with a stern shake of the mayor’s finger, and a disapproving huff or two from the town elders, Kairi always found herself foraging for flowers here. The wind blowing through her hair, and the misty salt air gently caressing her chubby cheeks made her feel more at home here than anywhere else on the island. In the afternoon quiet, only the rumbling low roar of the waves had been keeping her company. Lightly and carefully, she hummed a melody as she worked, losing herself in knot after knot.

*.*.*.*

“What do you think she’s doing?” Sora muttered in a hushed tone, trying to keep his usually loud voice as quiet as possible. He was huddled on his haunches behind a large hedge, practically wiggling to keep himself from falling over. He and Riku had followed Kairi from a distance like two ducks up the winding hillside. When they had seen her leaving the Mayor’s house she had been stomping and letting out a long-winded sigh or two. Riku had said that she was “probably angry” and that it mostly had to do with her going off alone. Sora, being extremely curious about Kairi ever since she had arrived on the beach, had never not kept watch over her. So, Riku being Riku had suggested they follow her, knowing well that Sora would have found himself trailing after her absentmindedly.

Riku let out a sigh and shook his head. “She’s going to make something again. The last time she came back down from here she had a crown of flowers in her hands. That’s probably what she plans on doing.”

“Hmm, that seems more lonely than fun. She’s all by herself.” Sora pursed his lips, his nose scrunching up. He crossed his arms and readjusted his drooping bum with a light hop. “Seems like it’d be better to do with more people.”

Riku raised a brow, then smirked as he realized something important. “You know, if you want to join her nothing’s stopping you. We can go back to the play island any old time.”

“But it feels like if I go over now, I’d be like- I don’t know- I’d um make her mad…”

“Mad?”

“You always say I talk too much. Kairi seems a bit scared when I do that.” Sora looked down at his fidgeting toes. “Still, I think she’s lonely.”

“She just doesn’t know much about us yet. And well you do talk a lot. My dad says sometimes though that just being near someone without saying anything is enough.” Riku crossed his arms, and nodded, certain his father’s words were true.

“Really Riku?”

“Yeah, Really.” Riku put a hand on Sora’s head and gave his hair a quick ruffle. “Now, no more waiting!” Riku placed both hands on Sora’s back and pushed him forward- not even worried if he would fall over on his face. Usually, he did, and Sora had to brace himself for a fall that didn’t come. Instead, he found himself balancing on one foot and staring into the wide cerulean eyes of a frightened girl.

*.*.*.*

When a rustling bounded behind her Kairi gasped and found herself on her feet, her hands clutched close to her chest. A familiar head of spikes was what first caught her eyes, then the twigs and leaves sticking out every-which-way, followed by the shy grin of a boy caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Geez, Sora! You scared me!” Kairi tucked her hair behind her ear as if she were suddenly aware of her own messy mop.

“Sorry, Kairi! Me and Riku were just…” Sora paused to look behind him. Not a soul was in sight. “Aw man, where’d he go? We were just talking about…ugh never mind.” Sora stood up straight and puffed out his chest as he shook the stray twigs and leaves from his head. Once he was done, he placed both hands behind his head. “So…what-cha doing?”

“Making flower crowns…” Kairi mumbled under her breath, feeling herself carefully enunciate each word. Sora was nice, after all, he was the one who found her on the beach that day. But a part of her felt scared, nervous, and a bit rumbly in her tummy when she talked to him. He was always so bright, and his grin was wider than his face. Kairi didn’t know how to be around him. Kairi turned her back to him and smoothed the ends of her dress.

“Okay.” Sora uttered. He continued to stare at her, unmoved until she decided to sit back down among her work. As she picked more flowers, she began to take more glances over at Sora. He watched her intently, swaying from side to side on the edges of his sandals. He stayed that way for a beat then promptly plopped down next to her. Kairi’s breath hitched in her throat at the sudden invasion in her little bubble. But Sora didn’t say anything, although his face was twisted into an unnatural frown, alerting her he really did want to say something.

Kairi tried her best to get back to her crown, but she fumbled with shaky fingers as she tied the tiny stems together. Her lips moved into a fine line, her teeth biting down into the corners of her cheeks. Again, soon she became lost in the motions, not even noticing Sora get up and go look around. Moments later he dropped back down next to her, this time, with a handful of clovers.

“It’s really pretty.” Sora blurted out. His eyes were wide, expectant.

A shivering jolt went through her back, and Kairi shyly looked back down at her completed crown. He said it was pretty, what she made. A slight hint of pride wafted through her chest. “Thanks…”

“I-I want one too!” Sora’s voice was louder than he intended, for Kairi almost fell back at the sudden noise. She made sure to quickly put on a smile for the boy looked almost as if he would cry if he knew she was scared.

“Okay, I’ll teach you.” Kairi found a new strength in her voice. She was more confident now. A voice inside her heart, but from where she didn’t know, whispered caressing words.

Whenever you feel lonely, look to the flowers. Surround yourself with them, let them take root in your heart. Every moment may seem small, but you can make them bigger and more beautiful. For those moments when you’re alone, the flowers will remind you of me and of those who love you. That light in your heart will continue to bloom and grow, as long as you let it. Adorn your head with a crown of flowers, my dear. Adorn the head of the one you love. Find that light, never lose sight of it.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! This fic was inspired by the prompt King and Queen for SoKai Week 2021. Visiting Sora and Kairi's childhood and what they meant to each other during that time was pure joy. I hope that this little bundle of fluff reminds you of the wonder of picking flowers as a child, and how even the smallest acts of kindness can mean the world to someone else. I tried to add in some of Sora's flowers from his herbarium by super groupies as well as flowers that spoke to his personality. Fun fact: Clover flowers were something that I would gather when I was a child, and luckily they do grow at least in Hawaii at high elevations, so it's possible they could be on the mainland in Destiny Islands!

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#sokaiweek2021 #sokaiweek #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts fanfiction #sokai #sora and kairi #kairi #sora #kingdomheartsfanfiction #KH #kingdomhearts

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damn-stark · 4 years ago

Text

Turning page

Jesse x Fem!reader

Requested by anon “hii, i was wondering if you’d be okay with writing a Jesse x reader fic, where it takes place before TLOU2 kinda in the spring, and they have been dating for a while, and jesse planned a date for them, and they have to sneak out to get there and it’s just fluffy. i hope it’s not to much to ask haha. 💕💕”

Warning-fluff!!

———-

“It’s a miracle that you didn’t even…..”

How much would it take for Dina to break away from you? Usually her company was a welcomed one since she knew how to make you laugh like Jesse did, especially when her and Ellie were together because there was this awkward but great chemistry about them. It was fun hanging out with both of them truly but today, well today you had other things to do.

Other people you had to be with.

“...but today I was thinking that we could go to the lake with some friends.” Dina continued to explain with much of your dismay. “Your stitches should be fine.”

You sigh and as you’re about to turn her down Jesse walks out of your house and greets Dina and you with a bright smile, cutting off whatever Dina had been saying and you had tuned out.

Dina returned the smile. A little less enthusiastic than Jesse’s but she returned it nonetheless. “Hi, Jesse.”

Said man met you halfway and his eyes instantly fell on the stitched up gash on your arm, his smile instantly falling and his eyebrows furrowing with concern. “What happened?”

You shake your head to dismiss his worry for now. “Nothing, just a small cut.”

Jesse responded with a scoff and let his hand rest on his hips, listening to your suggestion for now before again his eyes wondered to Dina and he offered her an awkward smile.

You turn to your friend and copy Jesse's smile, “well Dina, I’ll catch you later okay?”

She blinked, “wait, but you never answered my invitation.”

You move towards your boyfriend and take his hand, shaking your head to answer, “uhh maybe next time.” Slowly you begin to move backwards towards your house and just show her a tight lipped smile. “You can go though, okay and maybe we’ll join later.” Without waiting for an answer you move towards your door with Jesse in tow, waving goodbye to your friend and closing the door seconds later. “Sorry it took a while. We got...caught up.” You explain as you put your jacket on and cover the cut on your arm. “So what’s this thing you got planned, huh?”

Jesse offered you a pointed gaze and just shook his head before he got his backpack off the floor. “You’ll see.” He shows you a soft smile over his shoulder before motions you to follow him out the back door.

“Where are we going?” You grin.

“Out, come on.”

——

“When you said out. I thought you meant like somewhere inside the walls, not,” you pause and proceed to duck under some branches, groaning softly as you lift the arm that was injured. “Somewhere deep in the forest.”

Jesse looks back briefly and stops once he sees you fall behind. “We’re almost there, you’ll like it, I promise.”

At that you lift your gaze to meet his, releasing a dramatic sigh, “fine, I’ll follow.” You carefully walk up to him and take his hand in yours. “Always will.”

Jesse let’s out a lighthearted huff of air and continues pulling you through the green forest that smelled of fresh rainfall. A refreshing smell after months of snowfall that brought nothing but cold weather that enabled you from doing much but stay inside where you wouldn’t turn to human icicles.

Which is why winter wasn’t a favorite. Not like springtime. The weather is tolerable and flowers begin to regrow as well as crops, and even if pollen fills the air the air smells sweet at times, especially after a downpour. But eventually the sun comes out regardless of the cloudy days and those are the best times. When the sun is setting and the sky is painted in soft, sweet colors.

“Okay,” Jesse says, breaking the silence and breaking you from your thoughts. “We’re here.” Jesse moves ahead and lifts a tree branch that was blocking your path out of the way, revealing a field filled with pink, yellow and orange flowers planted on a fresh green field. It was small but it wasn’t too overgrown, it was beautiful and perfect.

A bright smile grows on your lips and you fall beside him to show said gesture. “How’d you find this?”

Jesse grins, “when I was out on patrol with Joel.” He proceeds to move ahead letting you follow closely until he stops at the middle of the field. He shrugs his backpack off his shoulders and zips it open to take out a thin blanket to lay it on the ground—“I hope you like it, I may not be the most romantic type, but I hope I did good.”

You grin wider and you quickly wrap your arms around him, whispering close to his ear, “I love it. I do, it’s lovely.” You begin to pull away and press a kiss on his cheek before fully facing him again. “I love you.”

His eyes search yours for a moment, letting comfortable silence take over the both of you as he takes in your words and tries to figure out if you were joking or not. Which you weren’t, but it was taking him a moment to process what you revealed.

Just before you were going to say it again and or just assure yourself that he felt the same way, Jesse pulled you in for a short but sweet kiss, letting his thumbs stroke your cheeks as he pulled away slightly. “I love you too.”

You smirk, “good. I thought you were going to leave me hanging.”

Jesse chuckles softly and breaks away to get the rest of his stuff he packed out of his backpack, including a small boombox. You chuckle and and let yourself fall on the blanket, catching sound of music softly playing out of said boom box. It’s a song you recognize, but don’t comment on, instead you look up to the sky and see as the white clouds float away on the light blue canvas that was the sky, catching sight from the corner of your eye as Jesse laid down next to you. Letting the silence bubble the small area you were in.

And it took a moment for either of you to speak, just letting the music play in the ground as you watched the moving scenery above.

“Do you want to dance?”Jesse broke the silence.

You move your head and see he’s still looking up. “What?”

“Do you want to dance?” He repeated as he turned his head to face you. “To the song?” He sits up and then stands to his feet, moving to stand in front of you and offer his hand. “Come on.”

This time you sit up and slowly reach to take his hand, letting him pull you up to your feet and press you close to himself, moving one hand to place it on your waist, while he keeps grabbing on to the other one.

“Now who taught you how to dance?” You tease as you wrap your arm around his shoulders.

Jesse grins shyly and begins to slowly move you along to the nice song that was playing in the background—“my mom. She said that one never knows.” He chuckles.

You laugh along with him, “well she’s right.”

“Always.” The hand that was on your waist slightly pulls away and he raises the other one to spin you along to the beat until you face him again and gently pulls you his chest again, letting your head rest on his shoulder. He presses a kiss on the side of your head and rests his head on top of yours.

You smile softly, “I love this, you did great.”

“We barely started it.” He chuckled.

“Still—” you cut yourself and your eyes fly to the treeline in the distance after you heard shuffling between them. “Jesse….there’s something—”

“Yeah I heard.” He breaks away and pulls out the gun from his holster at the same time you pull yours, both turning to look towards the shuffling greenery in the distance. He begins to move towards the sound and let’s you walk up behind him.

The sound gets louder and louder the closer you get, making you point your gun towards the noise until something comes out—someone comes out.

Dina.

And friends.

You exhale deeply and grab onto your chest after feeling relief that it wasn't something else. “Oh gosh, Dina.”

“Oh,” she mouths, “hi guys, I didn’t know you were here.” Her eyes shift behind your shoulder and her eyes go wide. “Oh, shit. Did we interrupt something?”

You meet Jesse's gaze and he offers you an apologetic look. There was no point in saying yes and turning them away, the lake you figured out was just a couple feet away. So regardless they would wander and plus Jesse's friends were with Dina. They weren’t going to leave him alone. Unfortunately. So that meant the date was sadly ruined. It was the fun though, the little time you spent alone together. Hopefully you’d have time to do this another time.

Hopefully.

Jesse sighs, “no. Nothing.”

#the last of us part two #the last of us imagines #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #dina the last of us #jesse tlou #tlou2 #tlou #tlou imagines #tlou imagine #tlou jesse #tlou2 jesse x reader #tlou jesse x reader #jesse fanfiction #jesse imagines #jesse imagine

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angstyaches · 4 years ago

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“Someone shyly asking, “Could you rub my tummy?” while groaning with pain because who doesn’t love that?” This scenario for Felix and Elliot please. With Fee being the sickee

Here it is! It was supposed to be a drabble, but in true Flick fashion I could just Not Stop. I might even write a part two about the car ride back to the townhouse (if I feel like it / if anyone expresses an interest). Also, I can’t believe I’ve written like ten sickfics for my vampire boys but in not one of them (?!) have they actually been sick because of drinking blood?!

CW: blood, slaughter of an animal, vampires drinking blood, spice (?!), nausea, drowsiness

___

Felix’s stomach felt like it was being pinched from the inside, caught in the grasp of something with claws that wanted to drag it right out of his body. It was impossible to tell anymore whether the discomfort was from nausea or prolonged thirst, because the former almost always accompanied the latter. He’d have pressed his hands to his belly if they’d been free, but they were working on another ache.

His fingertips were pressing into his face, just above the edges of his lips. He let out a low groan as he tried to massage away the throbbing pain that had gone from dull to distracting in the space of a few minutes. Pressure piled up on the roots of his upper canines, and to a lesser extent, his lower ones.

Ryan stood up from where she’d been crouched, feeding, and looked over her shoulder, rubbing at the red stain smeared across her pale white cheek. Her sleeve was white too, and as the blood soaked into it, Felix could already hear Nancy yelling about it as soon as they got back home.

“You should have a wee drop,” Ryan said smoothly. Her eyes were golden yellow and practically glowing after the hunt and the kill and the blood. It was always about the blood, wasn’t it? Her white hair looked brighter out here in nature too; back in the townhouse, it just matched the walls. “Just to tide you over.”

Felix looked down at his feet, getting momentarily distracted by his hands, which were trembling horribly by his sides. The ache in his belly was increasing from the sight and the sound and, indeed, the smell of feeding. The pressure building up in his gums was growing more and more intense, and it almost felt like his fangs were jabbing upwards, scraping at the bones below his eyes and making them water.

He knew he could refuse if he wanted to, and Ryan wouldn’t say another word about it, but he did need to drink, and it would be a while until he could get his hands on anything other than blood in its rawest form; warm and straight from the vein. Ryan knew he didn’t like it, so she would never suggest it if she didn’t think it was the best thing for him.

Fingers pressing even more deeply against his gums, he slowly approached the beast that had been breathing minutes before but wasn’t anymore, trying his best not to look it in the eye. He sank to his knees beside Elliott, whose back was so hunched over it looked like his spine had been bent in half. He was slurping and sucking at a wound he’d opened in the creature’s neck.

He didn’t notice Felix sit down next to him, not until Felix reached out to touch his leg, automatically seeking physical contact. He was nervous, and he was in pain, and Elliott understood him better than anyone he’d ever met. He didn’t stop to consider the fact that Elliott was currently a hundred miles away, in feeding mode, and probably could have turned and ripped his arm off without hesitation.

But when Elliott’s head snapped around, all he gave was a sound that was halfway between a snarl and a question. Hmmph? His eyes were practically blazing gold, his lips were furled back over sharp fangs, and his teeth and chin were painted brightly with blood. Spatters of it dotted his face and had gotten into the strands of hair he liked to wear by his face.

Felix, trembling and clean in comparison, couldn’t tell if the sight of his boyfriend giving in to his bloodlust like this was terrifying or beautiful. Either way, he didn’t flinch or move, besides the violent quivering that suddenly set into his lower lip.

The hungry look in Elliott’s eyes softened slightly, and his fangs began to ease back from over his lower lip. He unclenched one hand from the dead beast’s neck and laid it on the hand Felix had put on his leg.

The eye contact didn’t break until Elliott had leaned in close enough for their lips to press together.

Felix inhaled sharply, the sweet, metallic smell of the blood on Elliott’s face already making him dizzy with lust. The pressure inside his skull shifted, almost like a cork had popped deep inside his gums, and he felt his fangs beginning to contract and lengthen.

He let Elliott pry his mouth open for a deeper kiss, tasting blood on his tongue until he didn’t anymore. Their teeth clashed, and there was a trickle of blood that wasn’t animal blood, but Felix didn’t know if it was Elliott’s or his own. Either way, it didn’t put him off.

He needed more. He sat up higher on his knees and sucked the animal’s blood from around Elliott’s lips, barely aware of the low, desperate noises rising in his throat as his body demanded more –

“Whoa, hey – here,” Elliott half-laughed, leaning back and pulling Felix with him, so that the younger boy could drop against the open wound in the animal. Felix sank his teeth into the beast’s still-warm flesh, gasping and drawing in mouthfuls of liquid.

It tasted unbelievably sweet, almost unbearably so, and once he started, it felt like he would never want to stop. His body seemed to ripple with instinct and pleasure and relief. His stomach grew warm and heavy. He didn’t stop until his lungs ran out of air and he began to see stars. He ripped his teeth free and scrambled back on the forest floor, gasping. Elliott put a hand to his back to stop him from toppling over.

“Jesus, that was…” Elliott’s voice was close to a growl. “So fucking hot.”

Felix gave a shuddering sigh. Elliott was a lot more present and coherent now, it seemed. He was grinning breathlessly, jerking his shoulders slightly like he did when he had excess energy. “Are you okay, boo?”

Felix glanced down at himself and gave a shuddering sigh at the sight of his second-favourite skinny jeans and third-favourite green sweater patched with blood.

“I’ve got blood all over me,” he mumbled unhappily.

Elliott laughed at that, but Felix barely reacted. He felt like his brain was hovering somewhere outside his body; his eyes too, so that he was staring at himself in horror. The only thing that brought him back to reality was the loud gurgle that came from deep inside his body, a thing that he both heard and felt.

“Oh, gosh,” Felix gasped, folding his arms gently over his belly and leaning forward.

“Fee?” Elliott asked, leaning in a little closer. “Does it hurt? It probably shouldn’t hurt. Hey, Ryan, is he okay?”

Ryan appeared in front of them, dropping to a squat and lowering her head to get a look at Felix’s face. “Felix, are you going to vomit?”

Am I going to vomit? he asked himself very sincerely. No. Or, at least, he didn’t want to. An animal had lost its life, and he’d taken its blood, and that meant something; it meant he had to hold onto it.

Felix slowly shook his head, gulping hard and wishing he had something to rinse his mouth out with.

“Probably just drank too much too fast,” Ryan mused.

Elliott gently helped him to his feet, but as he stood, it felt like the contents of his belly were still down on the ground somewhere, dragging and weighing him down. He had no idea how Ryan sprang so delicately to her feet, like a pixie on puppet strings. He had no idea how Elliott looked so beautiful when he was such a mess.

He didn’t know anything except for one fact; his stomach was starting to ache. A lot.

He winced as he felt something shift in his gut, but instead of a gurgle, this was a deep, clenching rumble that made his knees feel a little weak. He pulled away from the hug so he could put his hands on his belly. He stared down at it as it cramped again, imagining his organs weren’t quite sure what to do with this amount of blood when he’d only ever consumed a fraction of that amount in the past.

His throat tickled with panic, and a different kind of pressure was building around his eyes.

Elliott hovered a few feet back, like he still didn’t trust Felix not to going to puke all over him. Not that it would have mattered, since he was already soaked in blood.

“You keeping it down, boo?”

“I – I hope…” Felix said weakly.

“I’m a bad influence, aren’t I?”

Felix grimaced through the faint sting of tears. Considering that Elliott was the reason he was half-vampire in the first place, he’d have said that was an understatement. He didn’t say it though, because his stomach and his jaw both clenched in unison, and all he could let out was a strangled whimper.

“Oh, boo,” Elliott sighed, finally coming close again so he could tuck some of Felix’s bangs behind his ear. The tips of his fingers were so gentle against the side of his neck that he shivered and sank his head against his chest again, desperate to be held and comforted.

“You can take it easy for a few more minutes while I’m working here,” Ryan said. She was still licking subconsciously at her lips as she readied the syringe that she used to take blood home for future use. “Then we’re going to have to get a move-on back towards the car, before it gets dark.”

“Mmhmm,” Felix said, nodding weakly against Elliott’s ribcage.

Ryan turned her back and crouched by the dead animal. With his head lowered and with Elliott blocking his view, Felix didn’t see her work after that, but he reckoned she was concentrating enough not to be paying attention to him anymore.

“Elli, darling?” he asked in a small voice.

Elliott touched the back of his head. “Yes, gorgeous?”

“Could you rub my tummy?”

Without another word or a single beat of a pause, Elliott ran his hands down over Felix’s shoulders. His touch lingered along his waist for a second, fingertips careful despite knowing every slight curve in his body like a map he’d studied for decades. He brushed the palm of his hand gently over Felix’s stomach, pausing as he felt the pressure just below his ribs, trying to assess how much pressure would be too much.

He got his answer not too long after, as Felix whimpered again, tensing a hand around Elliott’s elbow.

“Sorry,” Elliott murmured softly, smoothing his hand down over the tight, achy spot and kissing the top of Felix’s head again.

The smaller boy just continued groaning and whining in discomfort. He felt his face flush slightly as his belly bubbled under Elliott’s hand, its contents sloshing unbearably into his oesophagus. Something pinched at the bottom of his ribs and inched its way upwards, and Felix opened his mouth, covering it quickly.

He barely lifted his head as Ryan came back over and stood in front of them, stowing her syringe in her bag.

“Boys,” she said shortly, glancing back and forth between the two of them.

Felix began to straighten up, turning in Ryan’s direction. Along with the pressure leaning down on his internal organs, his bones and muscles were beginning to respond more slowly to his commands, and there was a fuzzy feeling in his head that told him he would be asleep as soon as he was out of the forest.

He felt Elliott keep his hand pressed to his stomach and step around behind him, pulling his back against his chest. Elliott was so much taller than Felix that he had no qualms about letting him take his full weight, and his skin tingled in relief.

Ryan looked at them blankly. “This display is not very dignified.”

“Your face isn’t very dignified,” Elliott murmured with a smirk, now smoothing both hands delicately over Felix’s belly. He could practically feel the heavy liquid sloshing around under his hand, and could only imagine how uncomfortable his poor boyfriend must have been. If the groans he couldn’t manage to suppress were anything to go by, it was quite a bit.

Ryan’s eyes flicked about lazily, not quite reaching the level of rolling. Most people would be too afraid to insult her, even in jest, but Elliott knew she simply viewed that kind of thing as beneath her, and wouldn’t rise to it.

“Love you,” Elliott offered by way of apology, letting his smirk soften into a warmer smile. “Your face is very nice.”

Ryan blinked and began to walk in the direction they’d come from, jabbing Elliott gently in the shoulder with a long, black fingernail as she passed him.

“You can both sit in the back if you’re going to continue with this,” she said, “otherwise I’m going to be losing my well-earned lunch.”

“What do you think, boo?” Elliott asked gently, leaning down towards Felix’s ear. He worked his hand back and forth across the swell of his belly, careful as ever not to jostle it too much. “Are we going to continue?”

It took a few seconds for Felix to register the question and mumble a reply because it seemed as though that post-feeding sleep was creeping in on him much more quickly than he thought.

#emeto mention #vampire emeto #but there's no actual emeto in this fic #blood #felix #elliott #belly rubs #stomach ache #tummy ache #sick boys #sick VAMPIRE boys #sickfic #vampire sickfic #guess you could call it a #SUCKFIC #no Flick stop that #spice #kissing

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didsomeonesaydaddydraco · 4 years ago

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Draco’s pet | d.m

Request: yes! @universallycutecakehoagie

Word count: 2,007

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!reader

Note: Sorry for going a bit MIA, but I had tons of assignments and midterms, and on top of that my laptop totally died :( But I’m back, and I have a lot of ideas for Draco and Tom imagines. So stay tuned. Love you all. xx

Draco had the worst day ever. Ever since the Dark Lord was back, and he was forced to become a Death Eater himself, everything was going downhill for him. He had troubles with sleeping, focusing or just being himself in general. He hated the situation he was in, and wanted to take her hand and run away. Somewhere far, somewhere safe. Somewhere, where they could be alone. Happily.

When he got out of his last class that day, he wanted nothing, but go up to the Astronomy Tower and be with her. He hadn’t seen her all day, and truth was, he missed her jasmine scented brown hair and those mesmerising bluish-greenish always sparkling eyes. She was the complete opposite of him, but that was what Draco needed. She was everything he wasn’t. She was always happy, saw the good in everything and everyone and always knew how to make Draco feel better and safe. She was a Hufflepuff, but damn, Draco loved that Hufflepuff girl more than anything in his life. She was his Hufflepuff.

“Cho” Draco called after the Rawenclaw girl, who was chatting with one of the Weasley twins. He knew they were friends, so she might have known where she was “Do you know where Angelina is?”

“No, sorry, Draco” she smiled at him weakly “Haven’t seen her all day. But try the library thou. She might be there, working on her Transfigurations essay”

“Alright, thanks” he nodded and left to find his girl. She had to be somewhere in the Castle. Last night they were together, sneaked out after the Prefects’ checked if everyone was in their own room, and went up to the Tower to cuddle and talk. She was oddly quite the whole time, but Draco thought it was only because of the hundreds of essays they had to turn in just in a very short of time.

He was beyond terrified when he couldn’t find her neither in the library, nor in the Hufflepuff common room. He even checked the Hospital Wing, but she wasn’t there either. Draco trusted his guts. They had known each other for years, and he knew her better than himself. If something was wrong, or if she was in danger, he would have known it. So instead of running around the Castle like a maniac, he decided to go to the Room of Requirements and work on his mission. He made a mental note to himself, to try and find her before dinner.

“Hey, mate” Blaise greeted his friend when Draco joined them at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. He only nodded back and his eyes scanned the whole Hall, searching for the girl who had been missing for the whole day now. He frowned when he couldn’t find her at the Hufflepuff table, nor with the Golden Trio. Where on Earth she can be? Draco thought to himself and sat down to eat, but his appetite was gone when he thought about Angelina being hurt or worse. Being kidnapped by Voldemort.

“Mr. Malfoy?” Snape’s monotone and deep voice pulled him back to reality. Draco looked up at his Professor with a questioning look on his face. He hadn’t done anything bad, as fas as he was concerned. “Could you please come with me? I need to discuss an important matter with you.”

Draco stood up and followed the man. For first, he thought they were going to his office, but they soon left the Castle and went to the Forbidden Forest. He knew they had to come here, so no-one could hear what they had to talk about. If they knew, Draco would have been expelled for long now.

“He is getting rather impatient with you, Draco” Snape looked at his Godson with both worry and disappointment. He knew that the Dark Lord wasn’t playing any games, especially now, that he was so close to finally kill the boy “Can you do it?”

“I just need a couple of more days” Draco said “The cabinet is almost fixed, I’ve been testing it for days now. When it’s done, I’ll let him know myself”

“A week. No more. If you fail, he will not hesitate to kill you” and with that, Snape disappeared, leaving Draco in the Forest alone. He wasn’t scared anymore. After sitting at the same table with Voldemort, and having him walking around the house he used to call home, the Forbidden Forest was a sunny paradise with rainbows and everything nice. Draco was glad that he had the chance ti be alone. Everything was getting too much for him, and he still had no idea where his girlfriend was. He looked up at the clear sky, staring at the full Moon. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to be out there, when there were lycanthropes at the edge of changing.

Draco was on his way out of the Forest when he heard a howl and a painful squeak. Before he could think, he was trying to find the source of the voice. Something deep in him told him to stay and try to help. Maybe it was because he hadn’t really done anything nice to anything or anyone in his entire life, apart from being overprotective when it came to look after Angelina. But that was it. He wasn’t the best person, and he knew it. And he desperately wanted to do something good for once.

“Oh Gosh” he stopped when he saw a lycanthrope, laying on the ground with a bleeding leg. It was trying to stand up, but the second it almost succeeded, it was back on the ground again with an even more painful squeak than before. At first, it didn’t see Draco, but when he took a step closer, he accidentally stepped on a bough which alerted the creature.

Draco’s greyish blue eyes locked with its yellow ones. There was something mild in its gaze. There was something oddly familiar in the way its eyes twinkled. It was like they were dancing. Every time Draco took a step forward, the creature crawled further.

“Easy” he extended his arm, indicating that he wasn’t a threat “I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you…”

Draco felt his heart beating in his throat. Only if Angelina knew what he was about to do. She would have flipped at him, telling him how reckless it is, and he should call for someone who knows better, or just leave the creature alone. They were dangerous after all. But he had to stay. At least, he had to try to help. He knew it was a human in the first place. Lycanthropy was not a choice by one individual. They didn’t ask for this. So Draco did what he thought would help. He talked to the creature.

“I can see that you are hurt” he said slowly, kneeling down on the cold ground a few steps away from it “I can see that your leg is bleeding. You must be in a lot of pain now.”

The creature looked at him with its head tilted to the side. It was listening to Draco’s calm and slow voice.

“I want to help you” he swallowed “I am going to tear a piece of my robe and use it to clean your wound” he pointed at his robe and waited for any sign. A small whimp left the creature, so he did as he said. He tore a piece of his robe and slowly reached the injured lycanthrope. He gently cleaned it’s wound, but never broke eye contact. He wanted to be aware of every single move of his and of the creature’s as well. From that close, he could see that how similar the colour of its four coat was to Angelina’s hair. He was getting even more worried now. He still didn’t know where his girlfriend was, and yet, he was trying to help a monster instead of trying to find her.

“Here you go” he checked if the wound was clean “Now I am going to use another piece to swathe your wound, so dirt will not get in and it will not get infected.”

He talked slowly, and made sure he didn’t made any quick movement which could have scare the creature. He was surprised of the softness if its fur. He always imagined them having a rather coarse hair. When he was down, he sat still and stared at the magical creature in front of him. It was looking at its leg, trying to move it, but it found it painful.

“You are not that scary at all” he said quietly “They say you are a monster because you are different and you do bad things. That you hurt other people. But wouldn’t it mean we are all monsters?” He played with the sleeves of his robe, which was covering his dark mark “We are alike. I’m a monster too…”

Draco sat there for minutes, just watching the creature in front of him. But those minutes turned into hours and he couldn’t leave. Something kept him there. Sometime after midnight, he fall asleep, leaning back to a nearby tree.

It was dawn when a whimper woke him up. He jumped up and watched as the creature started to turn back into it’s human form. He was desperate to see who it really was. He had to know they were alright, and didn’t need any more help. Draco had to grab a hold at the tree when he saw the witch in front of him. He thought he was only dreaming. Those beautiful blueish-green eyes were looking at him with so much shame, pain and despair in them.

“Draco” Angelina’s voice was raspy, and filled with pain. She was looking at a pale Draco, who was still holding onto the tree, trying to process everything he had just seen.

“Angelina?” Draco let go off of the tree and took a step closer to the girl slowly. There she was, hair tangled, blood drained on her leg, and her clothes were torn, barely covering her delicate body. He wasted to time to run up to her and wrap his robe around the girl’s trembling body. He took her face between his hands and looked at her face closely, searching for any other injury apart from the one on her left leg “Thanks Merlin you are alright” he said and pulled her into a tight hug, kissing into her hair.

“Aren’t you afraid of me?” She asked “Don’t you find me disgusting? How can you still touch me? Kiss me?”

“No, baby, no!” Draco shook his head and looked deeply in her eyes “It’s still you. My blooming little Hufflepuff. I don’t care what you turn into. I just want to keep you safe”

“But I’m a monster, Draco” a tear slipped down her cheek “I had hurt people. What if I will hurt you next time?

“I’m a monster too” he implied to the mark on his forearm “But hey, were are pretty hot monsters, aren’t we?” He winked at her and caressed her back with his fingertips. It made Angelina shiver and smile at the same time “Listen, we all hurt other people. We are not perfect. But I know you, and I know that you would never hurt someone on purpose. You are too pure for that.”

Angelina stood on her tiptoes and kissed Draco. She always knew that she loved him, but what she was feeling in that moment was far beyond love.

“Besides, I’d imagined you being my bet, but not quite like this” he winked at her.

“Oh shut up, Malfoy and kiss me again” she rolled her eyes and enjoyed her boyfriend obeying her wish. It was something magical in that kiss. Two cursed soul finding their piece of Heaven in each other. The light, brought by their love was stronger that the darkness in them. It made them even. It made them perfect for each other.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #daddy draco #draco fanfiction #Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff #slytherin x hufflepuff #Draco Malfoy request #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy x lycanthropy #Harry Potter #harry potter requests #harry potter imagines

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mikauzoran · 4 years ago

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Lukadrien: Among the Wild Things: Chapter Two

Read it on AO3: Among the Wild Things: Chapter Two: Bond

“I’ve never seen you like this before,” Anarka noted as she wrangled her thick, blue-grey mane of hair into a braid.

“Like what?” Luka sighed, strumming aimlessly on his lyre.

“Moping like a lovesick fool,” Juleka supplied, swimming over to the kitchen of their home at the bottom of the lake that Anarka presided over deep in the enchanted forest. “Just ask him—her?—to go out with you. It’s not so hard.”

Luka snorted, grumbling, “Like it wasn’t hard for you to tell Rose about your feelings?”

Juleka bristled at the reminder of her disastrous confession to the naiad, salvaged only by Rose intuiting what Juleka was trying to say, returning Juleka’s feelings, and taking the initiative to confess to Juleka instead, saving Juleka the trouble.

“Who is the lucky person?” Anarka pressed, coming to sit on the couch with Luka.

Luka shook his head with another sigh. “It’s…not like that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, honestly. There was just this mortal guy who came to my clearing last week, and I should have just eaten him, but…I didn’t.”

Anarka’s eyes narrowed as Juleka’s widened.

“I just watched him for an hour or two, and then he went away,” Luka continued. “But he came back the next day and the one after that, and on the third day I talked to him, and he was so close, I could have just pulled him into the river…but I didn’t.” Luka shook his head again, still mystified at his own actions. “I didn’t. I let him go. I changed in front of him, scared him off, told him to stay out of the woods, and now he hasn’t been back in almost a week, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should have just eaten him,” Luka grumbled, plucking a sour note on his lyre in frustration.

Juleka winced, letting out a sympathetic hiss. “Yeah. That sounds pretty complicated. Sorry. Not touching that one. Maman?” She looked to their mother to field Luka’s dilemma.

Anarka frowned deeply, pursing her lips as she studied her boy. “Getting entangled with a mortal is never good, Luc. Trust me, I’ve had enough mortal lovers to know that it never ends well. They get old and sick, and they die on you, or else they want you to become mortal, and they get really huffy when you tell them no. It’s better if you just forget all about this boy and move on, Ma Baleine.”

Luka nodded listlessly. “It’s not like I’m ever going to see him again. He’s not coming back, and I’m not stupid enough to go looking for him.”

Though, the thought had occurred to Luka. He didn’t think the castle guards would let him waltz right in to see the crown prince, and Adrien would probably be upset if Luka took out all of Adrien’s servants just because Luka had the strong urge to gaze into those sylvan green eyes once more.

Luka cursed under his breath as he remembered the salty-sweet taste of Adrien’s skin. “I shouldn’t have licked him.”

Juleka broke out into giggles at her brother’s expense. “Oh my gosh, Luc. You licked him?”

The furrows in Anarka’s brow multiplied. “What exactly happened between you and this boy?”

“Nothing,” Luka groaned, getting to his feet. “I’m going to my bend in the river. I’ll be back later tonight.”

“You didn’t eat anything,” Anarka called after him in concern.

“I’m not hungry,” Luka informed without breaking stride, swimming for the exit out of their sunken ship and heading for his tributary.

Luka had never expected to see Adrien again, so to find the prince sitting on the riverbank, staring down into the water when Luka arrived was more than a little surprising.

He hesitated, trying to wrap his head around the immense joy he was feeling before deciding what course of action to take.

Perhaps it would be best to stay silent and just watch Adrien as he had done the first two days, but what if Adrien had come back specifically to see Luka? What if Luka didn’t show himself and Adrien gave up and never came back again?

He couldn’t risk it. He had to say something, make his presence known.

Not wanting to startle Adrien, Luka lightly cleared his throat to get his attention.

Adrien jumped, gaze flying around the clear in search of the source of the noise. “Orpheus?” he called apprehensively.

“I thought I told you these woods were dangerous, Little Prince,” Luka scolded with a playful lilt to his voice.

Adrien smiled sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck and shrugging. “Well, you didn’t drown me the first three times I was here, so I thought I’d press my luck.”

Gradually, Luka coalesced into human form from the waist up, silently rising out of the water to rest his elbows on the bank, only an arm’s reach away from Adrien.

“I’m not the only thing you need to be worried about,” Luka sighed.

Adrien gave a start, whipping around and freezing when he realized how close Luka had gotten without Adrien noticing.

He gulped, not daring to move. “What else do I need to be worried about?”

Luka shook his head slowly. “These woods are filled with my kind, and there are any number of beings who would hurt you, eat you, or worse. You shouldn’t have come back.”

“…And yet I did,” Adrien sighed, posture relaxing. “…Are you going to drown me today?”

Luka hummed thoughtfully, pillowing his arms on the riverbank and resting his chin on top. “Not sure yet.”

Adrien nodded, accepting Luka’s answer. “Okay.”

After a beat of silence during which they studied one another with open curiosity, Luka noted, “You’ve got tear stains on your cheeks. Why were you crying?”

“Because I was sad,” Adrien answered readily.

Luka frowned. “Why were you sad?”

Adrien shrugged. “A lot of little reasons. Mostly it’s stupid things that my father did or said. Like, today he was supposed to eat breakfast with me, but he didn’t show up, so I was just sitting in the empty banquet hall all by myself missing my mother and thinking about how my father thinks I’m useless, so…” Adrien shrugged again, trying to play it off as unimportant, but his eyes had begun to leak fresh tears.

Luka rose up to take Adrien’s face in his hands and wipe at the tears dutifully until they stopped falling. “I don’t think I like your father.”

“He’s…not the easiest man to like,” Adrien admitted. “But I love him, and I want him to love me, so…I keep trying to make him happy, to make him proud of me.”

Luka pursed his lips, reconsidering paying Adrien’s castle a visit. “Is he the reason why you were crying those other days you came here too?”

Adrien frowned in thought, trying to recall. “I honestly don’t remember what I was upset about last week. He was probably a part of it.”

“He doesn’t sound like a good parent,” Luka grumbled, sinking back down up to his chest in the river. “My mother can be harsh sometimes, but I can’t remember an instance where she’s made me cry.”

Adrien looked away with a shrug. “My father makes most people cry. He made my mother cry a lot.”

Luka let out a contemplative hum. “…I’m sorry. That must be very hard for you.”

“Thanks,” Adrien replied with a weak yet genuine smile.

“…So why did you come back here? I thought I was pretty clear about the risk…even if I did want to see you again,” Luka added, curious as to what effect his words would have, if any.

Adrien’s cheeks coloured, and his smile gained strength as he looked off to the side. “I don’t know. I just…feel at peace here. These woods, this clearing…they make me feel safe, so…” He chewed on his lip, hesitating before adding in a rush, “and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Luka arched an eyebrow, trying not to give away how pleased he was that he had been driving Adrien every bit as crazy as Adrien had been making Luka. “So you were able to overlook the possibility that I might pull you into the river and drown you? Do you have a death wish?”

Adrien looked away again, his expression going cloudy. “No. I don’t want to die,” he replied sedately, without the vehemence or conviction that Luka would have liked to have heard. “I just…sometimes being in danger doesn’t feel like a big deal. I don’t want to be dead, though.”

“You worry me,” Luka announced with a tired sigh, transforming the rest of the way and climbing out onto the bank beside Adrien.

Adrien watched him questioningly. “Uh…thanks?”

“Mmhm,” Luka replied, pulling his lyre out of the river. “You need to take better care of yourself. Lie down.”

Tentatively, Adrien did so, rolling over onto his side and gazing at Luka curiously.

“Take a nap,” Luka instructed, beginning to strum a calming melody. “I’ll keep watch and wake you in an hour.”

“…Thank you,” Adrien responded cautiously, not sure if he really trusted the kelpie, even if he did possess otherworldly beauty and made Adrien feel all kinds of things he’d never experienced before.

But then Luka started to sing, and all doubt and resistance fell away.

Peace and warmth washed over Adrien like gently lapping waves rising as the tide came in. His eyes slowly slipped closed, and he drifted off in minutes.

Luka kept playing for a while even after Adrien fell asleep.

He watched the young man completely helpless beside him, so tranquil and trusting. It would be so easy to drag him into the river and be done with it…but even though Luka had skipped breakfast, he didn’t really feel hungry as he gazed at Adrien.

He set his lyre aside and moved in closer, studying the contours of Adrien’s face, mentally tracing the lines of his eyes, his mouth, his nose, his cheek, and his jaw. He listened to the sound of Adrien breathing, took deep inhales of Adrien’s intoxicating scent.

When he was sure that Adrien was deep under the spell of slumber, he lay down next to the mortal and slowly inched forward until Adrien’s back pressed up against Luka’s front. Luka carefully wrapped his arm around Adrien and lightly rested his nose in Adrien’s messy blonde hair.

The combination of Adrien’s warmth, weight, and scent was indescribable, and Luka could easily see himself getting lost in this boy. He could barely contain a whinny of pleasure as Adrien shifted in his sleep, rolling over in Luka’s arms and pressing himself closer into Luka’s loose embrace.

Adrien sleepily blinked himself awake on his own about half an hour later, and Luka froze, fearing he’d overstepped his bounds. But Adrien smiled lazily, closing his eyes and setting his head back down on Luka’s chest, giving it a tired nuzzle.

“Are you going to drown me today?” he mumbled, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down Luka’s spine.

“Not today, Little Prince,” he somehow managed to find the presence of mind to reply.

“Okay. Good,” Adrien hummed, wrapping an arm around Luka and pulling him in tighter.

Adrien kept coming back.

Not every day (not at first, anyway), but at least half of them.

They talked about various things: little, inconsequential tidbits from their days, the small moments that made up their lives. Over two months, it slowly added up until Luka was pretty sure that Adrien knew him about as well as anyone.

Adrien still asked every time if Luka planned on drowning him, and every time Luka gave a coy, evasive answer.

Adrien didn’t need to know that the thought of anything happening to Adrien made Luka feel physically ill and that the prospect of eating Adrien had long ago started to make Luka’s stomach roil.

#Lukadrien #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Anarka Couffaine #Juleka Couffaine #Fae AU #Fae Luka #Kelpie #Kelpie Luka #Fairy AU #Fluff #Slight Angst #Mikau's Writings #Among the Wild Things

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alteridolriley · 5 years ago

Text

Finding My Place [Part 1]

Heya there everyone! Today is a super special day! Today is @availe‘s birthday! Maxi is one of my very best friends, one of the most important people to me in the world so I told her to pick two pairings and I would write a fic about them. I wasn’t sure what the topic would be so I just kinda let the words flow!

This is a bullet fic because writing a whole fic is hard right now with my current state in life so I apologize.

This fic includes (in its entirety not just this part): human AU, Anxceitmus (QPR Remus/Virgil and QPR Deceit/Virgil, Demus is romantic in the ship), Logince, swearing, violence mention, angst, depression, suicidal mentions, fainting, general not taking care of yourself moods, drugs, alcohol, and.... all sides are shown in a positive light, if that matters. It’s an AU anyway.

Devyn = Deceit (That’s also important LOL)

With all that said, please enjoy!

---

Devyn knows a lot of things. He considers himself an expert in some fields but still a jack of all trades in certain situations. However, there is one thing he feels he lacks. No matter how much he thinks about it, researches it, and records the process and its results, the outcome is always the same.

"Remus, you can't just hang up those creepy curtains on the front window!" Virgil calls up the stairs. The man in question cackles and Virgil growls back. "Don't expect your villain laugh to get you out of everything. I already got an earful from the lady next door about it disturbing her kids."

"Ahhh they'll get used to it." Remus says as he walks down the stairs to meet Virgil at the bottom. He stays on the second to the last step, making himself nearly a head taller than Virgil. Without warning, Remus wraps his arms around Virgil's neck and squeezes as a big smile appears on his face. "Oh golly gee, I just love you Virgil."

The black haired boy couldn't prevent the smirk that appears on his face as he leans back and kisses Remus on the cheek. "Mhmhm… love to be a pain in my neck is more accurate."

Both of them laugh before turning to see Devyn standing in the doorway to the kitchen across from the stairs, staring at them intently.

"Do we have something on our face?" Virgil questions before Remus jumps down and runs to Devyn, almost slapping him with his arms instead of wrapping him in a hug.

"No…" Devyn assures. He leans his head against Remus. The smallest boy fits perfectly under Devyn's arm and Virgil walks over slowly, Devyn reaching and grabbing Virgil's right hand. He brings it to his lips, kissing it gently.

"I want a kiss!" Remus pouts.Devyn obliges, kissing him on his forehead. Remus feels his cheeks burning red as he hides his face in his partner's chest.

"Is something the matter?" Virgil questions.

"No." Devyn says quickly as a blink of panic passes Virgil's eyes. "I just still have yet to fully understand what I've done in this world to deserve this with both of you." His voice trails off at the end as his gaze fell along the house surrounding them.

Boxes scattered everywhere, some half empty as they unpacked to live in this new beautiful home. One picture was on the mantle above the fireplace: a shot of all three of them in suits: Devyn in yellow, Virgil in a deep purple, and Remus in a forest green, framed in a brown oak frame. Their wedding day only a month prior.

"Dee…" Remus says softly as he hugs Devyn tightly.

Devyn feels himself remembering. He tells the two he wants to take a break while they unpack upstairs. The two agree after giving him more hugs. Devyn sits on the couch in the living room.

xxx

Devyn had just been released from prison two years prior.

He had been wrongfully charged with murder and had his life turned upside down for over ten years.

Upon release, he met Remus at a local gay bar. He hadn't intended on falling in love with the strange man but it just sort of happened.

Devyn quickly learned Remus was already in a relationship.

Devastated by this, Devyn cut off all contact with Remus and stopped going to that specific bar all together.

Drinking his sorrows away at a bar closer to his home, Devyn accepts that his life as a 32 year old gay man meant that he was probably doomed to be alone forever.

Music started playing and he realizes it was live, playing in the next room over.

He peeked in to see a huge crowd surrounding a stage. Neon purple lights lit up the band. A lead singer with a guitar, a bass player, a drummer, and a… violinist? Wait, what?

The music was beautiful and the singing amazing, but Devyn couldn't tear his eyes away from the violinist.

Such perfect strokes and form, the melody tore right at Devyn's heart.

The song finished with a dramatic solo from the violinist and Devyn applauded along with the crowd.

He listened to the voices around him closely, trying to figure out who they were.

"My gosh they're all so amazing! Virgil knocked it out tonight! How does he play the violin so well??"

"Gotta give props to Roman too! He goes through those low notes to high so easily. Is he even human with that range?"

"Nah nah did you listen to that drum solo? My boy Logan is the most talented by far. The technical details in his playing is just… so damn good."

"But Patton's bass solo was good too! He's come a long way in the short time he's been playing."

"Flight of the Hearts is just an amazing band. They're gonna take the world by storm, I just know it!"

Devyn stared at the band and they signed and took photos with fans at the foot of the stage. He wanted to hear more.

He noticed a merch table just next to them and wondered over. Two self published CDs were on the table “Dreamer” and “Cyclone” and one of just Virgil's violin creations called "Calming Yourself".

Devyn never purchased anything faster in his life.

A bell went off above his head once he purchased it all.

"Major sale! All CDs plus a shirt!" A voice shouted.

Devyn felt himself wish he wasn't where he was.

Until---

The whole band came over behind the table.

"Hey thanks for your support!"

Devyn recognizes him as the lead singer (Roman?) He was built like a jock, a football player to be specific, but had very soft eyes and a gentle smile.

"Dearheart, there's no reason to yell at him. He looks utterly confused. I told you that bell wasn't the best idea…"

The drummer… Logan right? He was smaller than Roman by over a foot at least. Glasses sat on the bridge of his nose (was he wearing those on stage?) and he pushed them up. He had an air of a person who would win on Jeopardy by a mile. Logan had his arm around Roman's waist, pulling him gently back.

"Thanks for purchasing all of our work! We really appreciate it!"

Another glasses wearer? Oh it's Patton, the bassist. Right, right. He seemed the most genuine and down to earth, at least in this instance. He gestured to take the CDs back.

"Come on everyone let's sign them!" Patton called out to his bandmates.

Roman and Logan returned, holding hands and Roman kissing their entangled fingers.

Devyn wanted what they had, desperately. He felt an emptiness in his heart.

Without realizing it, Devyn had Virgil standing in front of him closer than he would've liked.

"Can I help you?" Devyn demanded.

Virgil squinted his eyes and frowned. "What's your name?"

Accusatory voice, mean look… the glare peeking through his long bangs and was that heavy eyeshadow?

"We just wanna sign your stuff! Right… Virgil?"

Patton clearly fell the same unease emanating off of Virgil as Devyn did. The more he stared back at Virgil, the more angry Devyn became.

"My name is Devyn. What about it?" Harsh tone, spat in anger.

"I knew it. I recognized that scar on your face. How fucking dare you?!" Virgil leaped over the table. "How dare you break my Remus's heart, you bastard?!"

The crowd began chanting. "Fight, fight, fight!" and before he realized it, Devyn was about to punch Virgil before both of them were pulled back. Patton had pulled back Virgil and Devyn realized Roman had grabbed him under his arms with his own.

Security had quickly corralled everyone out of the tiny room, leaving only Devyn with the band.

Logan stood between the two warring ones.

"What are you talking about?" Devyn demanded, shaking off Roman, nodding to agree he wouldn't fight.

"Remus has been so upset since you cut him off. He loved you, you dickhead!" Virgil was basically foaming at the mouth. His eyes were red and filled with tears. "Why? What possessed you to do that to him?"

Devyn's memory flashed to the last image of Remus he remembered. Smiling brightly at him as he left the bar that night over a month before. Devyn had blocked and deleted his number. Basically ghosted him.

But…

Remus had been in a relationship, right? Devyn didn't want to force his way in and hurt someone else.

Devyn looked up to see Patton comforting Virgil in his arms, shhhing him like a small child.

A hand landed on his shoulder. He glanced over.

Roman.

He had a sad look in his eyes.

"Allow me to explain, Devyn. I'll start from the beginning. I am Roman, lead singer of "Flight of the Hearts". This is my partner, Logan, our drummer. The one holding our dearest violinist, Virgil, is the wonderful Patton. He is also Virgil's older brother. Virgil's partner is Remus… the man who works at The Half Side of the Full on Center Street. He's also my twin."

Devyn blinked and realized in that moment that Roman was the spitting image of Remus, only taller and a bit more buff. He was also missing Remus's adorable mustache but that was beside the point.

"I left Remus because he told me about you." Devyn started, glancing at Virgil. "Never mention you by name of course. Just that he had the most amazing boyfriend in the world and I decided I didn't want to break my own heart. So I left him and his perfect life alone. Because who needs a fucked up person like me in his life?!"

Devyn realized he was shouting but he didn't care. He also ignored the tears rolling down his face. His scar around his left eye burning from the salt in his tears. Devyn knew in that moment he'd always be a fuck up somehow.

"Remus was so important to me. I love him more than anything. Because… he allowed me to forget and move on. I was no longer trapped in my lying, deceitful past. I was able to actually be me."

Devyn turned and shoved past Roman only to stop short of the exit, blocked by a familiar face.

"Remus…" it barely left Devyn's mouth.

"I never got to tell you." Remus said. "I was going to tell you I loved you the next day. And I wanted you to meet my boyfriend because we're both poly and you had mentioned in passing you were too. I didn't press it because well… I wasn't sure how much you enjoyed how I am."

Devyn had never seen Remus so calm. It was weird and he didn't like it. He liked his Remus bouncing off the walls, talking about his latest findings on the side of the road; alive or dead. He liked Remus when he tried to make fake blood to put on the windows for Halloween and it ended up being actual animal blood because that's how obsessed Remus was with what he did.

This calm demeanor didn't suit the wacky man at all.

"Like them…? Remus… I adore you. You were so true to yourself in ways I couldn't predict. I love that even though you were pushed away by society for who you are… you didn't let that change you. You refused to live a lie. Something I had done all my life."

Remus crossed the gap between them and in one full motion, pulled Devyn down like a princess, holding him gently in his arms.

"Let me do what I've been holding back for so long." Remus begged.

Devyn nodded and they kissed. It was soft at first, tickling Devyn's upper lip with Remus's rough mustache, before Devyn felt it deepen even further. He didn't want it to stop…

"Geez, brother! Get a room!" Roman blurted which caused the two to pull away.

Devyn licked his lips and Remus did as well, promising more later.

Remus allowed Devyn to stand as they walked back over to the rest of the group. Virgil reintroduced himself and apologized as did Devyn. Remus explained that Virgil is his QPP as Virgil is asexual and quoiromantic. Both were fine having other partners. Devyn joked about the fact that maybe he would fall for Virgil too if Virgil played him the violin more. The group laughed even though Devyn was dead serious.

As it turned out, the band, including Remus, lived together in a rented house just down the street. It wasn't glamorous or anything but enough to keep all of them out of the rain and comfortable.

As they walked in, Virgil asked Devyn about his living conditions and he dodged the question by bringing up food.

Remus grabbed Devyn's hand and squeezed, asking again.

Devyn admitted to living in a Motel 6. It was all he could afford after being released from jail. His factory job was paying him well now but he had to consider uber fees to get to and from work. The off three days working four was nice too but he had to be careful. He had no savings to fall back on.

Remus jumped up. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"My past is not something I am proud of." Devyn admitted. "But… it is something I should explain before we get too far into things."

To Be Continued….

#sanders sides #ts fanfiction #ts fanfic #romantic anxceitmus #romantic demus #logince #deceit sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #anxceitmus #demus

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cursed-dreamss · 4 years ago

Text

the color of eden & dream ; a short story

an original short story by raven ryans

Love is - as countless other book characters would say - just a chemical reaction. But with Eden and me it’s more than just testosterone and estrogen. Addyson Peoria and Aron Rucynzski might disagree - but I say love is connection. Love is hope and holding on to one another. Love is finding the right people, people that make your heart sing. Love is understanding, comradery, and protectiveness. Love is communication - love is long talks and held hands. Love is messy and - and love is bold.

*** “Edes, we have lives. School, work, roommates, aspirations, lives”

“I know.”

“We can’t just stay out here forever”

“I know”

“Do you?”

“No”

***

“Edes, what happened to us? We used to be so perfect. Everything used to be so easy”

“We did. It did.”

“So what happened? You - you disappeared, Edes. Where did you go?”

“Where did I go?”

“Where did you go.” “A place I hope you never have to see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hush, Dream. Listen to the birds. Hush. ”

***

A star. A wish. I wish for everything to go back to the way it used to be. Eden and me; unstoppable. Eden and me; laughing. Eden and me; best friends. Eden and me; kissing. Eden and me; trusting. Eden and me. Eden and me.

*** Things can never go back the way it used to be. The old Eden is dead - she died years and years ago, the moment everything went to hell. Now all that’s left is this shell; fragments of the girl I used to be. I used to smile. I used to laugh. I used to enjoy life, God I used to enjoy life. I used to love; I used to be capable of love. I used to be confident; I used to be sweet, like honey, and yet tart like the first apple off the tree - some people’s favorite type of apple, others’ least favorite. Then reality caught up. Now I don’t smile, I don’t laugh, I don’t enjoy life. I don’t love, I'm not confident, I'm not sweet. I'm rotten, like the core of an apple when you leave it out too long. Nobody’s favorite type of apple. Not even Dream’s. *** “Green is the color of the grass where I used to read-”

“No, that song is depressing.”

“HEY!”

“It is. Just the truth, Dream.”

“I know a place we could goooo”

“Also depressing”

“I know a place where there aren’t any roaaaads”

“Why does this song fit us so well?” “Where the grass is always greener”

“Green is our color”

“And doesn’t scratch your fingers”

“Well no that would just be tragic”

“I know a place” *** Eden called me. After a week of barely talking. She called me. She said I know a place we could go. I laughed. Eden knew - Eden knows - how much I love that song. No one has been there no one will know. So we left - we grabbed some edibles and left. Didn’t tell our friends. Didn’t tell anyone. Just - left. The most impulsive thing I’ve seen Eden do since high school. She was almost herself again. Almost. *** Green. Grass. Trees. Dream’s favorite sweater. The one I used to wear.

Green. Leaves. The Spotify app icon. John Green.

Green. Money. Chartreuse. What is chartreuse?

Green. Mint gum. Kale smoothies. Emeralds.

Green. Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince. Best cover. Green. The house I grew up in.

Green. Dream and I. *** “I still love you.”

“What?”

“I just wanted you to know that.”

“Oh, well, thanks, D.”

“Your welcome”

“Dream?”

“Yeah?”

“I -”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know if I can love anyone.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s okay. I have enough love for both of us.” *** Dream is perfect. Everything I want, everything I need. I just wish I could love Dream as much as I used to. I loved Dream like the moon loves the sun - always and forever. But maybe always isn’t forever.

*** I am blue. Cold water, icy cliffs, deep and mysterious. Dream is yellow. Bright smiles, sunflowers, open and loving.

Put us together - we are green. Fresh leaves, rustling trees, rooted and wonderful. *** “FRUCK ITS RAINING”

“WOAH I HADN’T NOTICED” “RUN RUN RUN RUN”

“WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M DOING, EDEN??”

“STANDING THERE CACKLING AND SCREECHING THAT YOU’RE A STORM GODDESS” “BUT I'M RUNNING NOW”

“RUN FASTER”

***

“What happens now, Edes?”

“I dont know.”

“We’ll be fine. We got this.”

“Do we have to go back to uni?”

“We’re running out of food, so probably.”

“I don't want to, D. I want to stay here, with you, forever.”

“I used to believe in forever, but now I think forever is too short.”

“Dream Winston Grace-Riley, did you just quote Winnie The Pooh to me?”

“Eden Christine Verena, did you just catch my quoting of darling Pooh?”

“Shut up.”

“Love you too.” *** I thought Eden loved me. All this time - I thought she loved me. I still think she does, deep down. She just doesn’t know it. If she didn’t love me, why would she call me and run away deep into the woods with me? Unless Eden’s secretly an ax murderer who has a liking for theater nerds named Dream, she loves me. I don’t know how to help her realize that though. I don’t know how to help her at all. *** Dream looks at me in a way that only Dream can. With love, with tenderness, with an overwhelming amount of adoration. All I’ve ever given Dream in return was bullshit - except for the beginning. We were so free. Full of love for each other; for ourselves; for the world. Now I’m held down by the binds of society - by the binds of the Verena’s - by the binds of my own mind. Now I’m full of hate - for myself, for the world, but never for Dream.

*** I laugh. She looks at me sadly, the ghost of a thousand laughs lost on her quiet lips. I hush. She takes my hand. I blush. Six years, I still blush. She tells me she doesn’t know anything. I tell her that’s okay, that we can figure it out together. She says she doesn’t know if she can do that. I’m silent. ***

“Dream?”

“Yeah?”

“I would be nothing without you. Don’t leave me.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

***

“If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?”

“My happy place.”

“Where’s that?”

“With you, Eden. With you.” *** Eden. She’s a lot. She’s brave and compassionate and caring and practical and unique and beautiful and perfect. And best of all, she’s mine. *** “How do you still believe in magic? After everything that has happened to us - to me - how do you still believe that there’s magic?”

“I don’t, not all the time.”

“What makes you remember to believe it?”

“You. Every time I look at you, I’m a little girl again - sure that there is magic in this world.” *** Love declarations. Sweet letters. Lingering kisses. Passion. Freedom. Happiness. Turned into . . .

Unsaid adoration. Not-so-awkward silence. Distant hugs. Unknown. Lingering sadness. Shadows.

*** “I don’t wanna lose - I don’t wanna lose this with you.”

“I don’t either, Dream darling.” “Then hold on to me, Eden. Hold on to me.”

“I am.”

*** If you don’t want to lose this then try and put a little effort into this goddamn relationship. I want to scream at Eden. But I don’t. I don’t i dont’ i never do - I can't I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t.

*** We should leave soon. Dream has roommates ; I have work. Dream has school ; I have work. Dream has theatre ; I have work. Dream has a life; I have work. *** “When are we going back?”

“You make it sound so ominous, D.”

“I mean, it kinda is.”

“I don’t know - we should go back - er - you should go back.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” *** Our last night together. Ever? ***

Ever. *** I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to leave this perfect safe haven in this deep dark forest of just me and Eden. My problems checked themselves at the door the moment she called me, but I know hers came with us. Hers follow us everywhere, relentless phantoms haunting her day and night. I see them in the morning - shadows lurking just over her shoulder, forcing her to shrink under the pressure. I see them at night - floating over the moon blocking the moonlight from landing on her beautiful face. I see them everywhere. I can only imagine what it’s like for poor Eden. *** Poor Eden.

Whatever happened to poor Eden?

Some say my mom died. Poor Eden’s mother, passed away when she was only 14. Poor Eden. Some say my dad left. Did you hear? Poor Eden’s father left her and Ceelio. Poor Eden. Some say I died. Poor Mr. and Mrs. Verena - their only daughter. Dead. Poor Eden, she was so young. Some say I disappeared, never to be seen from again. Where did Eden Verena go? Nobody knows. She’s gone. Poor Eden. They are all true, and yet all false at the same time. My mother died - and yet she is still alive. My father left - and yet he is still around. I died - and yet I am still alive. I disappeared - and yet I am here, with Dream, deep in this forest. *** The morning I left was crisp, bright, birds singing, sun shining. It matched my mood. It did not match Eden’s. *** “So. We’re leaving today, Edes.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What’s going to happen to us?”

“I don’t know. You have a life - you tell me.”

“You have a life too, Edes.”

“Oh really?”

“Me. You have me, Eden Christine Verena.”

“I do.” *** Dream’s leaving. I am not. *** “Look! Its civilization! Edes, oh my gosh look look look it's a TOW TRUCK!”

“It is indeed, D. Good observation.”

“Come onnnn lets gooooo we have to get back to campus!”

“You go on, I want a minute just me and the forest.”

“Okayyy. I’ll meet you down at the gas station, okay?”

*** I never met her down at the gas station. She never came. I waited and waited - for nearly four hours. I told myself she had gotten lost, I told myself she had fallen asleep, I told myself she cared. I ran back into the forest. I searched and searched. I could not find her. Eden Verena was simply gone. *** Eden Verena had been gone for years, but no one had noticed. Every day I bled a little more until the cut that always bleeds had no blood left to spill. Until I had no blood left to spill. Then I disappeared for real - forever. *** I never let her go completely. Every day I go down to the gas station and wait for Eden - Eden Eden Eden, my one true love, my source of happiness, my everything. She never comes. *** Dream has to let me go. I know Dream will - eventually. I will fade away until I’m nothing but a distant memory. Oh, Eden? Ha yeah, just an ex of mine. But Dream will never fade away to me. Dream is always - Dream is forever. Even if I’m not. *** My happy place. I told her she was my happy place. I told her I loved her, that I was there for her, that I was hers. I told her over and over again. I didn’t tell her enough. I didn’t do enough. I could have saved her - but no. I tried - I tried, I tried I tried but I didn’t try hard enough. *** Nothing Dream did or said could have saved me. I was too far gone. *** I will love Eden Verena till the end of my days, even if she didn’t love me until the end of hers. *** Goodbye, Dream. I should have said goodbye a long time ago. But I’m saying it now. Goodbye. I - I love you. I loved you. *** All things green die at some point. Grass, trees, leaves, Eden and Dream. They all die at some point - and maybe some point is now.

#raven ryans #ravenryanswrites #the color of eden and dream #original story #drabble #short story #realistic fiction #romance #love #gay #eden verena #dream grace-riley #raven atarah's writing adventures #[ short story ]

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kpopfanficsforthesoul · 5 years ago

Text

Choices- Yeri (Red Velvet) and Nayeon (Twice:) Part Two

PART ONE

Prompt: A newly turned wolf, you find your way into a supportive pack. Still learning the ropes, the alpha and beta’s daughters decide to befriend you. However, things get a little tricky when they both fall in love with you. How will it end? Only you can make the choice...

Genre: Romance/Drama, Werewolf!AU

Pairing: Yeri x Reader, Nayeon x Reader

Author’s Note: THE WAIT IS OVER! I’m so sorry this has taken me like eleven years to write... this is honestly such a good prompt and I love being creative with it! I hope you guys like this continuation!

One thing you didn’t know the beauty of before you became a wolf was the invigorating feeling of falling asleep staring at the infinite and majestic galaxy of shining stars in the night sky.

You woke up in a daze, the dark purple hues replaced with a light blue as the sun blinded your eyes. You squinted as you sat up, glancing over as you felt a pair of arms around your waist. A small smile crept its way onto your face as you glanced beside you to see Nayeon sleeping soundly, cuddled up closely to you. One thing you didn’t know before you got here was how cuddly wolves were.

“Nana, wake up.” you teased, ruffling her dark black locks. She slowly opened her eyes, smiling at the nickname you had given her.

“Did we fall asleep on the roof?” she giggled, sitting up.

“I believe so.” you replied, rubbing your eyes. “Thanks for talking with me.”

You and Nayeon had a deep and meaningful talk the prior night. You were sleepless for days after you had found out that Yeri was your mate, and she found you staring at the sky on the roof of her house.

You were a wreck, not being able to understand why the wolf inside you had chosen her. Not that Yeri was a bad option by any means. You were certainly captivated by her beauty, and enchanted by her maturity which demanded respect.

“Oh god, what time is it?” Nayeon exclaimed, frantically looking around for her phone.

“It’s 8:45...” you told her, looking down at your own phone.

“Oh my gosh!” Nayeon shouted, frantically standing up and jumping back through the window to her bedroom.

“Wait, what’s wrong?” you asked, slowing crawling though the same entrance.

“The pack starts running in fifteen minutes!” she exclaimed, pulling her dark curls up into a ponytail. “Get downstairs right now and eat all the healthy foods you can. I’m sorry, I was planning on making you a nutritious breakfast for your first run with the pack... gosh I’m such an idiot...” she cursed, frantically running around her room.

You decided to obey, not wanting to know what Nayeon was like when she was in a rush. You walked down the steps to the quaint little kitchen, grabbing some granola bars and peaches to eat. After sitting at the table for a little while, your friend’s feet came pounding down the staircase. She ran over to you, a hairbrush in her hand and several bobby pins between her teeth.

“What are you doing?” you asked as she yanked at your hair with the brush.

“Alpha Kim will introduce you to the pack today, you need to look decent!” she told you, brushing though several knots at once. “You’ll have to transform into your wolf for the first time and if you want your coat to look nice you’ll have to keep your human hair in check...” Once she finished grooming you, she came back around and took your half eaten granola bar away from you, taking a bite. “Go brush your teeth, your fangs should look nice and clean.”

You simply smiled and did as you were told, knowing her assertiveness was a sign of her care for you. You were very grateful to Nayeon for everything. For saving your life, for taking you in, and most of all for being your best friend. You didn’t know why, but she cared about you so much more than anyone else you had ever met. How could someone who barely knew you be this kind? Maybe she was just that selfless.

“Y/N come on! We can’t possibly be late!” Nayeon demanded, waiting for you to follow her out the front door.

“Stop... stop!” you pleaded, deeply panting as you slowly trotted over to a lone tree stump off the running trail. You were well behind the rest of the pack, not being able to keep up with their superhuman speed yet.

Nayeon slowed down, her dark eyes meeting yours as she turned around to come over to you. “I’m coming!” the fluffy white wolf declared as she trotted over to you.

Your own wolf had a thick black coat, which you had discovered after transforming with the pack. However you still had your glowing green eyes, which you received after meeting Yeri, your soulmate.

“I’m sorry Nana...” you huffed, catching your breath.

“It’s alright Y/N...” she told you, putting her white paw over yours. “But... since my mom isn’t here I’m expected to run with the pack to represent the Beta family.”

“You should go then...” you sighed, staring at the grass below you.

“I’m not leaving you here!” Nayeon insisted, looking into your eyes.

“Run along, Nayeon.” a calm and soothing voice demanded. You both turned around to see a blonde wolf with shimmering emerald green eyes. “I’ll walk with her.”

“Yeri...” Nayeon replied, looking at her with serious eyes. “Are you sure? Won’t your father be disappointed?” You gulped at realization of who this wolf was.

Yeri smirked, letting out a short chuckle before she began walking closer to the both of you. “Disappointed that I took the initiative to help our newest recuit? I don’t think that’s an issue. Besides, my four older sisters are there to represent us. You’re the only one who can represent your family. You need to run with them. Our pack is incomplete without a Beta member.” You and Yeri locked eyes for a short moment after she spoke.

“Thank you Yeri... I appreciate it.” Nayeon told her, looking into your eyes for a moment before trotting off.

The blonde wolf took her place in front of you, a small smile forming on her face. “You good?” she asked you with a smirk.

“Yeah, I’m fine...” you smiled, the pungent fumes of fresh roses choking your senses as she stepped closer to you. Yeri’s scent was intoxicating. With every second it convinced you she was your true soulmate, the loveliness clouding your judgement. “Thank you for coming for me.”

“No problem!” she chimed with a glimmer in her eye. “Wolves have very different endurances than humans. It’s often difficult for new recruits to adjust to it. Let’s just start jogging for a little bit, then we’ll kick up the speed.”

“What happens if we can’t catch up with the rest of the pack!” you asked, black fur flying back in the wind as you followed her.

“They’ll wait for us.” Yeri explained, eyes locked on the trail ahead of her. “Packs are built off of loyalty. No wolf ever gets left behind.”

“That’s a relief... sorry I’m so slow...” you sighed.

“Don’t worry about it!” Yeri chuckled, running a tiny bit faster. You pumped your legs faster to keep up. “You’re going to get stronger each day, Y/N. I can see the strength and determination inside you.”

There was an odd comfort in conversing with Yeri. It felt really good to hear her think so well of you. However you couldn’t ignore the fact that you both seemed to be avoiding the subject that had kept you up all night... that your wolves were pursing each other as mates. Regardless of the conflict inside you, you didn’t want to bring it up is she wasn’t going to. You two ran on for a good amount of time, picking up the speed slowly.

“Ah...” you gasped suddenly, feeling your chest tighten. Your legs instantly slowed down, your chest going in and out rapidly as your breath grew obnoxiously heavy.

“What’s wrong?” Yeri asked, looking over at you with concerned eyes.

“I just... need another break...” you pleaded.

“Okay, let’s go over by this tree...” she suggested, leading you off the trail.

You both stood in silence as you caught your breath, nothing but the sound of your panting filling the atmosphere between you.

“What am I doing...” you muttered, staring at the pavement.

“What do you mean?” Yeri asked, looking up at you. “We just ran for a pretty good distance, you should be proud of yourself!”

“No Yeri, I mean...” you began, gritting your teeth in frustration with yourself. “What am I doing here? I left my whole life behind to join this pack who’s shown me so much kindness... and I can’t even keep up with them!”

“Y/N...” she began, stepping closer to you. “Y/N, look at me.” Your bright green eyes locked in on each other as she continued. “You belong with us. You are not a burden! Now you are going to stay strong and finish this run because I know you can!”

A sudden determination filled your spirit which seemed to spill from the enchanting green tint of Yeri’s eyes which matched yours. Something about her trusting in you gave you so much strength as you darted off down the trail. The feeling of the wind through your fur as she ran beside you felt so invigorating and fufilling. For a good minute, it was just you two, side by side as the sun glimmered off your coats through the leaves of the tall woodland trees that towered above you. You both shared the same fresh morning air, footsteps and heartbeats matching each others as you ran on. Your instincts began to kick in as you felt yourself meeting a low level of that inhuman speed that came along with being a wolf, and you didn’t grow tired until you noticed Yeri slowing down.

“What’s up?” you asked, trotting backwards to meet her. “Why are we slowing down?”

“Because you reached the end of the trail!” she cheered, holding her arms out and as you both emerged from the forest, gesturing to the crowd of people in front of you. You realized that it was the pack in their human forms, erupting into applause and cheers with the alpha family in the center. You smiled at Yeri, the two of you transforming back into human form before walking up to everyone.

“You did it Y/N!” Nayeon cheered, running up to you and engulfing you in a hug.

“Congratulations Y/N, you’ve completed your first run with our pack.” Alpha Kim congratulated with a sincere and calm smile. “May you have many more with us.”

“Thank you Alpha...” you said, bowing your head slightly before him.

“Hey Y/N...” Yeri began, unintentionally pulling you away from Nayeon. “I want to talk to you about something.”

“What’s up?” you asked, following her away from the crowd as everyone began to walk back to their homes.

“I really enjoyed running with you today...” she began, brushing a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear as she gave you a small smile. “Do you want me to, I mean... would you like me to train you?”

“I’m sorry?” you asked furrowing your brows. “Train me in what?”

“I mean, wolf training.” she continued. “I could teach you how to use your wolf strength and speed to its fullest, and adjust your endurance. I could also teach you about wolf customs, and what it means to be in the pack.”

“Wow, that’s really kind of you!” you exclaimed. “I would like that a lot! But... why would you want to do that for me?”

“Well it’s a win win! You get to learn about the pack and... I get to get to know you better.” she told you with a small smile.

“Okay... when do we start?” you asked, a tiny blush forming on your cheeks.

“Tomorrow. My place. Noon.” she nodded, stepping a bit closer to you. She gave you a quick hug, stopping for a bit after she pulled away. “Do you smell vanilla?” she asked, wafting at the air before linking arms with her sister Joy and walking away.

As soon as she had gone, Nayeon instantly grabbed your hand, giving you a warm smile before leading you back to her house.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you entered the air conditioned alpha house. It was an unusually hot and humid fall morning when you and Yeri had went out for a run together. After running a decent distance, she invited you to the house to cool off before your history lessons began.

“I’m proud of you, I’ll get you some water.” she smiled, patting your shoulder as she walked past you to the fridge. You couldn’t ignore how healthy and toned her physique was. Her strong arms and soft abs were very visible, as she was wearing only a lime green sports bra and black yoga pants. Her long blonde hair was tied up off her neck in a cute top bun.

You were brought back to reality as she tossed a water bottle at your face. Suddenly, you heard a loud commotion as Yeri’s older sisters came in from outside. Usually the five ran together every morning, but Yeri had diverted to run with you, allowing the rest of the girls to run some pack errands.

“Hey Y/N!” Irene smiled as she waved to you.

You waved back, standing quietly by the fridge.

“So how did your run go?” Seulgi asked Yeri, hopping up on the counter and taking a bite of an apple.

“It was great, Y/N’s getting faster and stronger by the minute!” she told her, giving you a warm smile as she said so. You tried to ignore the blush creeping up your cheeks.

Wendy walked up to her youngest sister, taking her hair tie out and ruffling her blonde waves. “Y/N couldn’t have asked for a better teacher than our little green eyed maknae!

As Yeri swatted her sister away, you gulped as you almost choked on the water you were drinking. So Yeri’s eyes were green before you become soulmates? Maybe that’s why she wasn’t bringing up the fact.

“You alright Y/N?” she asked, looking over at you concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just swallowed too soon...” you responded, coughing in between your words.

“Yah, since you did so well today, you two deserve a treat.” Joy suddenly said, plopping a large cake with vanilla buttercream frosting and red sprinkles in a glass container down on the counter. You and Yeri both scrambled over to it, gasping at the sugary goodness.

“Ooo, what kind is it?” you asked, taking the lid off.

“It’s Red Velvet.” Joy responded. “It’s our favorite. Mrs. Peterson gave it to us as a thank you for helping her with yard work.”

“You two go ahead and eat all of it, I can’t eat anymore cake!” Irene whined, walking into the living room and plopping down on the couch. “We get so many each day!”

“We’re the alpha daughters!” Yeri exclaimed, cutting out a piece for you. “This is supposed to be a perk.

“Well you two can eat it while you’re teaching Y/N about wolf stuff.” Seulgi retorted, flicking Yeri on the forehead before jumping off the counter. Wendy and Joy followed her into the living room to watch cartoons with Irene.

Yeri rolled her eyes before picking up the cake. “Sometimes I question if I really am the youngest one of these girls.” She looked at you before leading you up the stairs to her bedroom.

“Your bedroom is so nice!” you told her before sitting down on her large canopy bed with the softest silk sheets you had ever seen.

“Awh, thanks!” she said, sitting down next to you with a couple books in her hands. “Shall we get-” she stopped midsentence, leaning closer to you suddenly. She took took a deep whiff of the hair by your neck. “Hey, what perfume do you use? It smells amazing!”

“I’m not wearing any perfume...” you laughed, leaning back on your arms.

“Oh... how do you always smell so good? You have such a strong smell of warm vanilla... it’s intoxicating to me.” she giggled, flipping open the pages of her book. “Let’s start with origins of the werewolf...”

You bit the nail of your thumb, feeling anxious at the mention of your scent. Nayeon said that was one of the signals of soulmates. “Wait, Yeri...” you interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Can I ask you something first?”

“Sure, what’s up?” she asked in response, setting the book down on her lap.

“Why... did you want to start training me?”

“Well you’re the omega and I wanted to help you...”

“Yes, but I know omegas come in all the time. What makes me so special that you came for me in the woods on my first run?”

Yeri stopped, looking at the ground for a moment as she twirled her thumbs together. “Do you want me to be honest with you Y/N?”

“More than anything.” you told her, looking into her shimmering green eyes.

“When I was running at the front of the pack with my sisters, it was like... this is going to sound insane...” she put her head in her hands before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looking over at you, “it was like I felt something calling out to me in the back of the woods. Like... like something was wrong. I could sense your distress for some reason... which is crazy because that usually signals that we’re...” she stopped, looking at the ground again.

“That we’re what, Yeri?” you asked, putting your hand over hers and leaning in closer. She glanced over at you, squinting as she looked in your eyes.

“Y/N, what eye color were you born with?” she asked suddenly.

“Brown.” you responded briefly. Her eyes went wide as the realization hit her.

“So when you came to the pack your eyes turned green... I smell strong vanilla whenever I’m around you... and there’s a deep connection between us...” she began putting the pieces together before looking at you. “Are we soulmates Y/N?”

You nodded slowly. Yeri gasped before throwing her arms around you in a tight hug. You hugged her back, holding her tight.

“So like, what’s my scent?” she asked, pulling away and wiping her tears that threatened to spill a small tear.

“You smell like fresh roses, misted by a newborn rain.” you told her, smiling. “It happened the second I locked eyes with you. Our wolves chose each other.”

Yeri smiled before giving you another hug. You didn’t know where this was going, but you wanted to cherish every second you had with her. All you wanted to do was get closer to her.

“Incorrect!” Yeri exclaimed, hopping off the log you were both sitting on and pointing at you with a big grin on her face.

“What are you talking about?” you yelled back, kicking your feet in frustration. Yeri was quizzing you about wolf history in the woods. It had been about a week since you had both recognized that you were soulmates, and from then on you were with each other non stop. After all, your wolves were drawing you together.

It was the early stages of winter, autumn disappearing in an instant. A fresh layer of snow lay of the ground and the cool air nipped at your cheeks and nose.

“You got the question wrong! The first legends of werewolves originated from ancient Greece!” Yeri laughed, clapping her mitted hands together. “That means I win!”

“Ugh, come on Yeri!” you whined, throwing your head back in frustration. “Don’t make me do it!”

“I’m sorry Y/N, but you know what my prize is!”

You groaned, hopping off the log and turning your back to her. You clenched your fists, waiting for the impact. And then, the snowball hit the back of your head, knocking you off balance.

“Hey, that was too harsh!” you complained, facing her again.

“Oh yeah, what are you gonna do about it?” she teased, putting her hands on her hips.

“You’ll find out Kim Yerim!” you threatened. You shrieked a war cry before running towards her. She yelled running away from you. You suddenly transformed into your wolf to run faster. Yeri saw this as you caught up to her, instantly letting her blonde wolf take her place on the snow covered trail. You felt the cold air pumping through your lungs, and suddenly you jumped on top of Yeri, thowing her to the ground as you both began to wrestle each other. Giggles escaped both your lips as you pinned her to the ground.

“Say uncle!” you demanded, pushing her face into the snow.

“No, never!” she retaliated, squinting at your impact.

Suddenly, you heard someone clear their throat from behind you. You both glanced behind your shoulders to see Nayeon standing on the trail, arms crossed with a scowl on her usually cheerful face.

“Nayeon?” Yeri asked, pushing you off of her. “What are you doing here?”

“Is it a problem that I’m here?” Nayeon asked with a cold chuckle. “You two have been spending all week together...”

“What’s up Nana?” you asked her, transforming back into your human form. Yeri did the same as Nayeon softened at the mention of your nickname for her.

Nayeon walked up to you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer to her. “Sorry Yeri, but I’m taking her back now. After all, she is staying at my house.”

“I see.” Yeri muttered, looking at the ground as she brushed a blonde curl behind her ear. “How’s your family?”

“My sisters are home but I have yet to hear from my mother. Please tell the alpha and luna that I said hello.” Nayeon responded curtly. She gave a cold glance to Yeri before walking off down the trail with you.

“Bye Yeri!” you said, waving behind your shoulder at her as you were pulled away. She gave a short wave, saying nothing before walking back to her house in the opposite direction.

Nayeon held your hand as you both walked in silence to your house.

“Nayeon...” you said suddenly, looking over at her. “What was that about?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, all the coldness in her melting away now that you were alone. She squeezed your hand and gave you a warm smile before walking on. “I haven’t seen my Y/N in days. And my sisters are home, so I want you to meet them!”

“Alright...” you nodded, walking on and deciding not to argue. The truth was, you did feel bad for not spending time with Nayeon in a while. You cared about her so much, and had not forgotten all she had done for you.

After a short walk through the woods, you both arrived at the familiar two story house that belonged to Nayeon. To be honest, you didn’t even know that Nayeon had sisters, you just wondered why there were so many extra bedrooms upstairs. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been talking to her for the past week. You kicked yourself for neglecting the girl who had saved your life.

“Girls!�� Nayeon cheered, cupping her hands around her mouth as she walked in through the front door. She laced her fingers with yours, sending a warmth through your body as she led you to the kitchen. There stood eight beautiful girls, some tall and some short, some with dark hair and some with light hair. All their eyes landed on you as Nayeon let go of your hand and gestured to you. “Sisters, I’d like you to meet Y/N!”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you Y/N!” one with long brown curls and the brightest eyes you had ever seen cheered as she walked up to you. “I’m Jihyo. Nayeon may be the oldest, but I’m definitely the strongest in our family!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever Jihyo...” another one with blonde hair and bangs scoffed as she hopped off the counter to greet you. She looked at you with her large dark eyes. “I’m Momo, the most skilled member.”

“Skilled doesn’t make you smart!” the girl with short black hair sneered with a slight smirk, lightly hitting Momo on the shoulder. “Y/N, I’m Mina. Don’t hesitate to come to me when all the other girls become annoying.”

“We are not annoying!” one with curly light brown hair cried, reaching into the cookie jar. “I can’t help it I’m the cutest one!” She cupped her hands around her face with a cute smile.

“Oh, give it a rest Sana!” the tallest one teased, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m the jewel of us all. ‘Tzuyu, the gorgeous maknae...’“ she smiled, immitating a news anchor.

“Oh my gosh, you and your big head...” another girl said, her arm wrapped around one girl’s waist, who gave an approving nod. “Chaeyoung and I work as a team. We know how to get things done for mom, unlike the rest of you who just sit in front of your vanities all day.”

“Hey Dahyun, you two wouldn’t get anything done without me, the charismatic one!” the last girl chuckled, who had short hair and a clear smile.

“Jeongyeon, can we please get back to welcoming our new member?” Nayeon pleaded, gesturing to you again. You had remained silent throughout all of this, smiling at their playful sibling rivalry.

“Oh, right...” Jihyo giggled, gesturing for the other seven girls to gather around you. “Welcome to the Beta family Y/N!”

“It’s an honor to meet all of you! I promise to contribute to all of the hard work we must accomplish.” you said, bowing to them with a slight smile.

“I’m sorry my younger sisters turned your greeting into an ego game...” Nayeon scoffed, glaring at the eight girls around her.

“So like, who’s she staying with? Do we finally get new roomates?” Sana exclaimed, looking up at Nayeon with a bright smile.

“I call Chaeyoung!” Dahyun demanded, the two wrapping their arms around each other.

“You can have her. I want someone who doesn’t snore. Mina?” Tzuyu asked, linking arms with her older sister.

“No!” Nayeon exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “We’re all staying in the same rooms we’ve had since birth. Jeongyeon with Momo, Sana with Jihyo, Mina with Dahyun, and Chaeyoung with Tzuyu. And since I’ve always had my own room, Y/N will be staying with me.”

All the girls groaned and whined, stomping their feet and scowling. They then all dispersed, walking around the kitchen in different paths as they were before, You giggled at all of them. Each looked a bit different, but you could tell they had the greatest sisterly bond in the world.

“So, why were the eight of you gone all at once?” you asked, leaning against the wall.

“Well, our mother is off on a mission right now. As Beta, it’s her job to negotiate with neighboring packs and as second in command, maintain order within the pack. She called us in for back up about two weeks ago, and Nayeon, being the oldest, volunteered to stay home with the pack to keep things in order.” Jihyo explained, examining the fridge. “Hey, I think we should make Y/N a Beta family welcoming dinner, what do you guys think?”

“That’s a great idea!” Momo cheered, hopping off the counter again. “Jihyo and I can make some noodles, while Sana and Mina make the salad...”

“Dahyun and I will make dessert!” Chaeyoung announced, walking over to the pantry.

“Tzuyu, you and I can make the side dishes!” Jeongyeon cheered, patting the maknae’s shoulder.

“And I will keep Y/N company while you all make dinner!” Nayeon cheered, leading you up the stairs to her bedroom.

“Wake up sleepy head!” a million different voices shouted at you in different pitches. You grumbled, opening your eyes to see the bright and cheery faces of eight girls over you.

“Well this isn’t how I thought I’d wake up.” you giggled, rubbing your eyes before putting your hands behind your head. You stretched, yawning a little bit. The girls all laughed at your sleepy antics.

Sana put her hands on your shoulders, giving you a light shake. “Y/N, come on it’s time for breakfast!”

“Yeah Y/N, you need to build up your strength for the big run today!” Mina told you, brushing a hair away from your face.

“Big run?” you asked, sitting up a bit.”What do you mean?”

“I thought we told you last night?” Chaeyoung said, scratching her head before glancing to Dahyun, who shrugged lightly.

“Oh no love, all I remember from last night is you all shoving one hundred different kinds of delicious foods down my throat.” you replied cheekily, making all eight girls giggle.

“Y/N, the pack is running all the way to the Emerald Forest today!” Jihyo exclaimed, putting her hand on yours. “We only go every quarter of a year since it’s such a long run.”

“Yeah so you better come with us and eat!” Tzuyu told you. “You have to try the cinnamon rolls I made! They’re the best thing on the table!”

“No way maknae, my egg tarts are to die for!” Momo retorted, slapping her sister on the arm.

“I think we all know that my maple brown sugar oatmeal is the best. It’s filling, and sweet.” Jeongyeon said cheekily, causing the girls to go into a riot about who made the best breakfast dish. All eight were yelling at each other, playfully hitting each other and pulling each other’s hair. You erupted into a deep laughter at all the commotion, your giggles floating over the quarreling.

A loud, high pitched whistle broke through the turmoil. Everyoen silenced, glancing behind them to the doorway. Nayeon stood with her arms crossed, impatiently tapping her foot and glaring at her younger sisters.

“I thought I told you all to get dressed, not to pester my sleeping Y/N!” she exclaimed, walking closer to the group. You bit your tongue, holding back from laughing at the scene that played out in front of you.

“Relax Nay, I got it under control!” Jihyo grumbled. “Sana-”

“I don’t care what you were all arguing about, just head downstairs and start filling your plates!” Nayeon demanded, pointing her finger to the door. The eight younger girls groaned, mumbling about how unfair their unni was. Tzuyu turned around before she walked out, blowing you a kiss before Nayeon ran over and pushed her out.

“I am so sorry about them...” Nayeon laughed, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Awh don’t worry about it Nana, it’s nice to have people to talk to. They really are such nice girls.” you replied, sitting up in your bed. “How come you didn’t tell me there was a big run today?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot about it too. I seem to have a million things to think about with my sisters home. Not one of them knows how to do laundry properly, so I was doing laundry all night!”

You giggled, getting out of bed and walking over to the vanity to put your hair up. You patted on some lotion before walking into the closet to get dressed. “So maybe you can settle the argument for me. Who’s breakfast dish is the best?”

Nayeon chuckled, getting up form the bed. “I love anything those girls cook for me. However, I have to say, Tzuyu’s cinnamon rolls are amazing.”

“I can’t wait to try them!” you exclaimed, spritzing some perfume before emerging from the closet. Nayeon’s back was to you as she was putting on her shoes.

“Just don’t tell her how good they are. That girl doesn’t need a bigger hea-” Nayeon stopped mid-sentence, mouth dropping open as she looked at you. You were wearing a breezy mint green floral dress with a pastel pink silk scarf and some two toned flats. You blushed a bit before addressing her.

“What, too loud?” you asked, snickering a bit at her shock.

“Nothing, it’s just...” she blinked in disbeleif, shaking her head. She walked closer to you, taking you hand in hers and rubbing her thumb on the back of it. “You’re so beautiful.”

You smiled for a moment, feeling a dig in the pit of your chest. Everything felt serene when you were with Nayeon. She was like your rock. She made everything feel calm and peaceful.

You came back to reality, shifting your weight towards the door. “Come on Nana, let’s go eat.” you uttered softly, tugging her hand. She caught up with you, ruffling your hair as you both ran down the stairs.

“Woah Y/N, our Yeri must be a pretty tough trainer!” Irene commented, running slightly behind you, her wolf’s red fur flying back in the wind.

“Someone’s getting super fast!” Seulgi joined in She ran next to her oldest sister, her wolf being a light caramel brown just like her hair.

You had to admit, you had been picking up a lat of speed very quickly. When Yeri was your running partner, all you ever wanted to do was train. In fact, she was running right next to you right now.

“Don’t give me the credit unni, Y/N is a fast and disciplined runner.” The blonde wolf responded, giving you a smile. Your heart warmed at Yeri complimenting you. For a second, you thought you heard someone groan behind you, but when you glanced back, you only saw Nayeon and three of her white furred sisters.

The pack halted at a beautiful silver river in the middle of the Emerald Forest. The air was crisp and fresh, and a glittering sheet of pearly white snow crunched under everyone’s paws.

“Everybody drink up!” Alpha Kim declared, his grey coat glistening in the sun. “We’ll take a half hour break to enjoy the forest before running home!”

You trotted over to your new Beta family of nine snow white wolves. Your own black coat stuck out from the rest of them. Nayeon gave you a smile before nodding toward the river. “Y/N, the water here the freshest you’ll ever taste!”

You leaned down, slurping up the icy cold water. It was refreshing as it dripped down into your tummy. The river was cold, but not yet frozen over by winter.

As your lungs readjusted, you looked over to the other side of the river, locking eyes with your green eyes soulmate. The blonde wolf noticed, smiling at you and winking. It was crazy, but you could smell her rosy scent again, even all the way across the river.

“Rival wolves!” someone shrieked, interrupting your thoughts. Everyone in your pack glanced up to the top of the hill, seeing fifty dark wolves running towards your pack. Fear struck in your heart as you glanced at Nayeon in desperation.

“Everyone, prepare to attack!” Alpha Kim shouted, starting a howl that all the wolves replicated.

“Y/N, stay in the middle!” Nayeon demanded, leading her sisters into a protective circle around you. All nine girls took a fight stance, prepared to defend you who didn’t know how to fight yet.

Your first thoughts went to Yeri. You made panicked glances around at all the wolves fighting. You finally found your blonde mate, who was currently fighting off two wolves. You took comfort in the fact that she was the strongest of all her sisters as both wolves cowered to her.

Nayeon glanced back to you. “Y/N, stay sharp!” she demanded. “We’ll protect you.”

You looked back over to Yeri after nodding to Nayeon. Yeri was helping her sister Joy, who was kneeling and examining her bloody paw. The redness seeped into the pure white snow.

A giant, burly, menacing black wolf was creeping up behind Yeri. Neither her or her sister seemed to notice, only focusing on Joy’s wounded paw. As you caught the eye of this menacing wolf, you noticed that it was the same pair of glowing yellow eyes that met yours the night you were turned into a wolf.”

“Choi Joomin!” you exclaimed, remembering Nayeon’s words about him being a well known assassin from a rival pack. Without another thought, you sprung out of the circle formed around you, sprinting towards the scene.”

“Y/N NO!” Nayeon cried in desperation behind you.

Nothing else was in your mind other than protecting Yeri. You quickly leapt in front of her, meeting of the eyes of your former attacker, who was mid-pounce. When the blow hit you, everything went black.

Author’s Note: OH MY GOSH! I finally wrote the second part to this story!!! I am SOOOOOO sorry it took me this long! You guys deserved this long ago. I’m eternally grateful for your patience. Thank yous so much if you came back to read this. Thanks to quarantine, I’ll have plenty of time to HOPEFULLY finish this story. I love you all, stay safe.

All my love,

Marie <3

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