#he got rushed by an off leash dog for the first time yesterday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeymoonjin · 5 years ago

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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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i-ntrmission · 4 years ago

Text

Nine (Van McCann)

Just a silly little fic where Van is sporadic regular at a coffee shop.

Part 1

Part 2

Saturday morning.

You’ve already baked cinnamon buns and the peacan pie by time Carly officially opens up the café at 8. The smell of freshly baked goods circling the shop, Carly hums in appreciation, hovering in the kitchen to see what she can rob for breakfast.

Toby arrives at half 8, Carly all too gladly standing back from the coffee machine. He hovers by the kitchen door a few minutes later, thanking you again for last night while you’re pulling a tray of breakfast muffins out of the oven.

“Sure you didn’t lose something?” You ask him, he only blinks, a questioning ‘no?’, and you tug his keys from your pocket.

“Are they my- shit, where’d you find them?!”

Fragmented story telling about last night, about Van, between serving customers. You still feel a rush of lightheadedness when you think about last night, think about Van. Heartbeat kicking up in a weird little pitter-patter rhythm - something you only associate with kittens and Hugh Grant films. Toby listens with a knowing smile, which you choose to ignore.

“Oh, and guess who Julia got off with last night?” You say, maybe to change the subject off Van, after he’s handed a takeaway cup to the last of the customers. He raises a how eyebrows, looking at you with interest. Toby liked to act like he wasn’t interested in the gossip, stories swapped between you and Julia on long shifts - but you always caught him half listening, weighing in with his own comments if asked.

But before you can dish out the gossip on who you had walked in on in your kitchen this morning, Julia herself stomps through the door.

“Speak of the devil,” you mumble with a smirk while Toby playfully hisses at her as she walks past “Ey, what time do you call this then?”

It’s 9, she’s an hour late. She had told you this morning she’d cleared it with Carly, when you had brought her water and painkillers. More as a front to question her on who you had found in the kitchen than being concerned for her head. She’d seen through it and buried herself under her duvet when you entered her room.

“Piss off,” she hisses back, taking off her sunglasses. No makeup and too much perfume, the telltale signs of a rough night. “And don’t even start you!” Pointing her sunglasses at you, your smug smile. You only hold your hands up to with a lingering smirk. Toby’s eyes flickering between you both.

The bell hanging from the door rings, drawing your attention back to the till as two mums with buggies and toddlers make their way in, the screeches of excited children make Julia shudder.

“Jesus Christ, kids shouldn’t be allowed out in public until at least midday on weekends,” she huffs under her breath and makes a beeline for the staff room. A chuckle - calling after her, telling her you had left breakfast muffins in the oven. The perfect combination of savory and sweet - the best hangover cure. Apart from more alcohol that is.

You’re loading up a tray with hot chocolates and coffees for the mums and kids when Julia re-emerges from the back room, taking a bite out of the muffin in her hand with a groan of your name, telling you that you were a lifesaver.

“Sure you can manage these? No more bad luck leftover? Need a side of salt?” Toby teases while handing you the tray over the counter, you roll your eyes - telling him not to remind you of yesterday’s disasters.

“So, wild night at the pub quiz I hear,” you hear Toby turning back to Julia while you walk away, biting down on the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile. Recalling her texts.

You make your way out front to the terrace where the noisy kids have taken up residence at one of the tables, except now their shrieks seem to be in despair rather than delight. One of the women standing out on the path while the other is desperately trying to calm the boys, one already in tears. Inconsolable.

“Oh, what’s happened?!” You ask, a frown while setting the tray on their table.

“Pebbles ran away!” The older of the boys wail while pointing down the road. It’s then that you notice the abandoned dog leash on the ground beside your foot, one end under the seat of the chair, the other end clipped onto a collar.

“He must have wriggled out, a lad’s gone running after him - I hope-“ the woman is cut off by the younger boy’s screech of “There! Pebbles!!”

You follow his gaze, almost shaking your head and laughing - it’s Van, of course it’s fucking Van to the rescue. Sauntering back down the path with the runaway Yorkshire terrier in his arms, licking at his face.

You watch the look of adoration in the women’s eyes as he carries the dog back up to the table, the gleeful sounds of the kids. His smile widens once he spots you, hovering.

“Alright lids, see he’s fine! Just a little messer ain’t he?!” Van eases, dropping down on his haunches to hold the dog while the mum fiddles with adjusting the collar.

Ducking back inside while the chorus of ‘thank yous’ surround Van, grabbing a couple of chocolate chip cookies and pain au chocolats, sugar for the shock.

Once you set the treats down on the table, the boys wipe the end of their tears from their eyes. Sounds of delight resurface, something their mothers echo when you tell them not to worry, that the cookies and crossiants are on the house.

Van follows you back inside after high fiving the boys, winking at the women and blowing a kiss at the dog - who seemed rather taken with him. Holding the door open for you.

“You’re in early, thought rockstars didn’t get up ‘til noon,” you say as he follows you in. Eyes a little bloodshot, voice a little husky - but other than that he didn’t share any of Julia’s hangover symptoms. You wonder what kind of drinker he is.

“Eh, never been good at the whole rockstar thing me.” A lazy grin, reaching the counter where Julia stops mid rant about how bacon absolutely belongs in muffins. Their eyes lock, mirrored smirks - sharing the same secrets.

“Think you have someone that belongs to me, love.” He chuckles.

Julia hums in response, “think I’ll hang onto him a bit longer.”

You bite back a smile. This morning, walking into your kitchen at sunrise only to be greeted with a scruffy, bearded man. Vaguely familiar, from the countless interviews and live performances you had binged on YouTube. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, unbuttoned shirt and undone jeans, hand buried in his hair, staring blankly at the floor tiles. Clearly in the midst of a hangover from hell, possibly going through the fear. You could smell the stale alcohol.

“Er, morning?” You said quietly, blue eyes flickering up, a crooked smile, and a rasped “Mornin’, love.”

Like it was the most natural thing for him to be standing in your kitchen, like it was his kitchen even.

“Are you looking for sommat or?” You opened the fridge, glancing back over him. Hoping he wasn’t about to puke all over the place. He had that look.

“Yeah, just the last shreds of me dignity.. and anything.. cold, please... fuck,” he grumbles, pressing his head into his hands. You almost felt sorry for him, then you remembered the videos and messages from Julia last night and hide a smile by looking back into the fridge. Jug of iced water and a pint glass, handing him the full glass before rooting through the medicine drawer, painkillers.

“Aye, you’re a fuckin’ godsent, thanks angel.” Taking the painkillers and water from you. “Can see why Van’s so fond of you, coffee girl.”

There’s a lot of unpack in that sentence, and it was way too early. So you simply blink and watch him take the pills.

“Coffee girl?” You question eventually, arms crossing.

His eyes drift back over to you, grimacing while he sips on the water. “Aye, you work down the café, wi’ Julia, reet?”

You knew you shouldn’t have, but when opportunity arises, you can’t help it. Winding him up. It’s a rare morning you’re in a good mood, able to communicate in more that one syllable words.

“No? Dunno what you’re on about mate, Julia works down the cafè.. heard her mentioned someone called Van a few times, seemed like they had a thing, yeah?”

A flash of panic in his eyes, practically hearing the flurry of curse words going through his head. The prospect of the fact he’s probably shagged someone his best mate is ‘fond of’. Quirking a brow while he stared.

“Nah, she said.. You.. fuck.. fuck me,” a string of grumbles, clearly trying and failing to get his head straight - remember what had happened last night, what Julia had told him. Hands patting down his jeans, pulling out his phone with a heavy sigh. He curses at the screen. “Fuck, Van’s gon-“

“Hey,” you decide to put him out of his misery. He was growing paler by the second, and you were getting more and more worried about the prospect of cleaning up puke. “I’m just messin’ with ya.”

Realisation hitting - eye narrowing at you, telling him your name, confirming that you were indeed the coffee girl who worked with Julia. He shakes his head, a gruff noise and crooked smirk.

“Jesus, threw me for a loop there... well played, my dear... I like you already,” holding out his first, “Am Johnny,” he says while you knock your knuckles against his. You refrain from telling him you knew that already.

“Well, he’s kinda crucial in our band and that, so afraid I get first dibs, darlin’” Van’s voice drags you back to the present.

“So you’re saying you’re going on tour again soon, eh?” Julia tilts her head.

A breathy little laugh - “Bands do more than just tour, yanno?”

“You do realise the internet is a thing, Van - we could literally google your tour dates right now and find out. So your mysterious bullshit ain’t flying anymore.” She rolls her eyes, another bite of her muffin.

Since finding out he was in Catfish, neither of you had ever thought about checking on the tour dates, when he came he came and when he left he left, and that’s that. No wondering if he’d show up when the tour was up. Simple, no attachments. You and Julia even named a local stray cat after Van who you fed from time to time when he came snooping around the bins outside, the easiness of coming and going.

So why were your fingers suddenly itching for your phone.

“Ah, love! Why ruin the little mystery that’s left then? Like I said - we do other stuff too, could have label stuff to do, graftin the next album... cheers, mate.” Trailing off once Toby slides his caramel latte over the counter, something he had got him hooked on a year or so ago. “Fuckin missed this.” He says as if every other coffee shop has yet to discover caramel.

“So yous are doing a new album then, that it?” Julia persists, rolling your eyes at her blatant attempts at winding him up. But he catches on, a lazy grin, licking his lips.

“Ain’t ya too hungover to be fuckin’ with us like this?” He calls her out, a smirk.

She shrugs while her eyes slide over to the elderly couple that come in every morning, sitting in their usual spot. Calling over to them that their tea and scones are on the way, fond calls back of ‘take your time, pet.’ telling Van she’s not finished with him before heading into the back to get a teapot.

“What happened last night anyways?” Toby interjects, bemused look across his features. Completely left out of the loop, obviously not getting anything out of Julia when you left them a while ago.

Taking the opportunity to pull up Julia’s messages - putting you phone down on the counter between the three of you. The video is obviously taken at the time of the night where all rational thoughts are lost to drinks. Loud music, girls screams - background static, Johnny Bond stood at the bar, downing three consecutive shots of what you assume is tequila, Julia’s giggles soundtrack while following him out the smoking area, turning back to the camera and taking off his cap with slur of ‘mind this for me, love’ before he proceeds to do a handstand against a wall for 15 seconds. Confused onlookers as Julia counts it out.

Amused sounds - Toby and Van, Julia passing back around the counter in search of scones for the couple, she glances over your shoulder at the video.

“Ey, anyone who does a handstand after 3 shots of tequila without vomming earns their space in my bed.”

There’s another video from about 20 minutes later of Larry stood on a table, Kylie Minogue blaring, and he’s doing an enthused rendition of the Can’t Get You Outta my Head dance mixed with a bit of the Macarena. Cheers erupting around him, wolf whistles.

Van - a rasped cackle, “send that one onto me, that’s too good! Never gon let him live that one down!”

You watch him while he watches the video again a few times over. His eyelashes nearly brushing his cheeks when he looks down, fingers restlessly tapping against his coffee mug, soft chuckles. Feeling Toby give you a nudge, a wink when you look up. Letting you know he caught you, shaking your head with your best ‘fuck off’ eyes.

“So why were you making the lads humiliate themselves for your entertainment then?” Toby asks Julia once she circles back around the counter

“‘Cause, the lads bet me that they’d beat us at the pub quiz,” she explains, helping herself to another muffin. “Johnny spent half the time outside smoking, and Van and Larry fuckin’ argued over every question and ended up writing down bullshit made up answers.”

Toby asks where Van’s forfeit video is, you’re only half listening now - taking orders of the few people who just came in, but you zone back in once you hear your name mentioned.

“-and after I told him she was workin’ late closing up, never seen anyone down their pint so quickly, what was the excuse again, Van? Jet lag was it?”

Glancing up at that to find him already looking at you, catching his eye, his lips tilt making his dimple pop out. It lasts less than a second, your eyes darting back down to the pecan pie you’re cutting. Feeling your cheeks warm up. He never mentioned that he had run into Julia at the pub last night, remembering how he just said he was on his way home. Although, you were half sure it did have nothing do with you, more likely he was just sick of Julia’s drunken bullshit.

“Nah, just quite like that pub and want to be able to show me face in there again, innit.” He tells her, a laugh.

You grab a basin and walk away to start to clear tables, not really wanting to hear anymore of Julia’s torments. You’re happier zoning out, getting lost in your own thoughts, smiling and small talk with a few regulars. On you’re way back to the kitchen when you hear Van again as you walk past, catching your elbow.

“You in then too, Glasvegas?”

“Sorry, what?” Turning back to him, you had been thinking if Julia would be up for getting chipper on the way home after the pub tonight. You were already craving garlic cheese chips.

“Coming down Cassidy’s tonight? Van’s buying first round for being a pussy last night.” Julia quips, and you look from him to her. Fuck, remembering Van’s confession about wanting to buy you a drink last night. Julia’s looking at with you a smug expression, knowing you can’t get out of this one. You and her always went out on Saturday night’s - either just the two of you, or a group of friends. But going to the pub with Van and his mates, your heart skips a few beats, uneasiness. You give her a look before letting your eyes slide back to Van, an expectant look, finishing off his cinnamon bun.

“Er, I dunno..”

“Dunno if you’re up for going to the pub? Like we don’t go out every Saturday night?” Julia tilts her head, feigning mock innocence. You knew what she was doing, and you glare. A non-verbal ‘you’re being a dick.”

“Well, er, it’s been a long week.. yanno. I’m kinda tired.. was thinkin’ of staying in and having a quiet one,” you’re backing slowly into the kitchen as you say this, feeble excuses. “And I’m.. I’m trying to save some and that.”

“So me and you will do pre-drinks at ours,” Julia pushes, entertaining your excuses to a certain extent, but not letting you get out of it.

“And I’m buying first round,” Van adds.

“So, it’s just one drink really.” Julia confirms.

“Jus’ one drink.” Van reaffirms.

“Just one drink?” You say, somewhat defeated.

Toby glances up from the coffee machine, a chuckle. “Now when’s the last time anyone went out and actually had just one drink?”

Van leaves a little while later, Toby giving him a tray of coffees for Larry and Bondy if he’d yet ventured back from your place, you sending him off with a bag of hangover cures in form of pastries and cakes.

He came back in a few minutes later, forgetting his stamp on his loyalty card.

“2 down, eight to go. Cheers, see yas later.” He walked back out, a spring in his step. You turned to Julia.

“What the fuck, Jules?! Will you leave us alone and stop tryin’ to setup me up with Van fuckin’ McCann!” Exasperated tone, she only shook her head and giggled. “S’not funny! He probably already has a girlfriend and you’re here makin’ us look desperate!”

“Dunno what you’re on about, babe!” She says while heading out to clean up the terrace, humming matchmaker matchmaker under her breath. She turns back to you as she reaches the door “Oh, and he deffo doesn’t have a girlfriend, found that out last night for ya. You’re welcome!” She beams, all but skipping out the door.

You somehow resist the urge to chuck the tea towel in your hands at her head.

#part3 will prob be later today or tomorz I spilt it up becaus it was getting way too long #anyway yeah #vanfic #catb fanfics #Van McCann fanfic

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

Text

Seeing Colors (Yuta x blind!reader)

a/n: hey, this oneshot is a little bit long and I actually started writing this last Summer 2020, but I didn’t finish it. Yesterday I got the motivation and the time to finish the ending part. Please let me know if there is anything missing in the scene (like if I suddenly jumped or you’re confused by the timeline... It’s a fic I left a while and came back to, and timeline sometimes suck.)

I want to tag my two fams who also love yuta fics... this was an attempt I made last year to write angst, but I need to practice more. This is more like a romance drama anyways @ailoveyuta and @yutahoes we are all suckers of yuta.

warning : longer than my other oneshots, buildup, you’re a blind character (do not read if you’re uncomfortable with this head to masterlist instead! thanks)

⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅

You opened your eyes, or at least you thought you did. It was difficult to tell, given the total lack of light.

Your world has never been bright since the day of the car crash. You were only seventeen when the world took away your sight, and your best brother. Your parents survived the crash; they left the hospital walking on their own while helping you. Yes you, who need to learn using your other senses and walk in the dark for the rest of your life. There were no cornea donors up to this day, and you’ve changed from the bright, cheerful, pretty girl next door into a cold, secluded, ice queen. Without light, life was not easy. Friends pity you, but you’re fed up by their fake attitudes. Love? You have not much hope with it.

“That wasn’t my choice,” You haughtily remarked and straightened your back when the man beside you had finished reciting the news your parents gave to him.

“As much as you don’t like it, your parents were not wrong. You’re 26, graduated with a bachelor degree in music, and yet you’re still not thinking to you know date somebody.” The man older than you by 2 years sighed.

You shrugged your shoulder, “Listen Yuta, I never asked you or my parents if I wanted a boyfriend.”

Yuta quietly lets go off his breath he had been holding; here we go again, fighting over relationship necessity.

Nakamoto Yuta has been your personal guard and secretary ever since your older secretary, Kim Jongin, was retired and got married. Jongin was a nice and caring secretary, he was patient when you first trained to walk with cane, plus Jongin graduated as a guardian for the special needs . Jongin dealt with all of your frustration and anger, he was like a substitute of your brother you lost. Jongin dedicated 6 years of standing by your side, helping you walk, fighting bullies for you, and basically did all the things he could to help you live a happy life. You were thankful for Jongin, but as you started to develop feelings for him, he left you alone with a wedding invitation. You, who were slowly being kind, suddenly changed back to the cold version of you. Your parents tried their best to look for any helpers who were ready to deal with your tantrums. That was when you met Nakamoto Yuta, a graduate student from Osaka, who took specialist in helping the blind. Among the other applicants, Nakamoto Yuta caught your attention and now he’s by your side for 3 years.

“Tell mum I am not coming to whatever date she arranged.” You unfolded your walking stick, making Yuta rushed to stand by your right side. He placed his left guiding hand to his abdomen and you found your hand snaked into his and firmly gripped him to walk.

“Where are we headed?” Yuta questioned when you carefully took your steps down the stairs.

“Well, I want to see Mum.”

Yuta assisted you to your mother and then left. He waited on the door to let you have your private talk.

“(y/n), what brings you here?” Your mother asked you nicely.

You brought your eyes to look at her; you cleared your throat and finally spoke up, “I know you’ve tried so hard to find me a date… Thank you, but I am not ready yet. My last love still hurts and I don’t think boys would want to date me when they find out I am blind.”

Your shoulder slumped and your tears fell, “I don’t know how I look right now? Am I still a beauty or am I a beast now? Will men like me if they know I’m blind? To be honest mom, I am afraid… I am afraid of their reactions.”

Your mother stood to hug you. She wiped your tear and whispered, “Look sweetheart, you’re beautiful inside out. You don’t have to worry about other people… Let me tell you… one day you will find a man… who will help you see colors again. When that man comes and when that day happens, you don’t have to thank me. That is fate. Believe and you will find your soul mate darling. Now, wipe those tears off and please try to attend the dinner I arranged this Friday.”

You sobbed, “What if I don’t like him?”

“Then you will not date him. Please, meet him for me…” She held your hand tightly and you can feel her sincere mother love tingled to your skin.

You stopped your tears and forced a smile, “Okay mother, I will try and open my heart.”

“Thank you sweetie, I knew I’ll never doubt in you.”

You exited the room after Yuta was called in.

“Please fetch me Vision, I want some fresh air.”

Vision is your service dog, he is a good boy who never fails to amaze you. Yuta grabbed the dog’s collar from the garage and while humming his favorite song, Yuta found the service dog wagging its tail when it saw the leash.

“You’re on duty today handsome,” Yuta clipped the leash to Vision’s collar and brought him to you.

You walked with Vision and Yuta to a near park just down the lane. There’s not many people and you like to avoid crowds. You don’t like being a distraction and being the talk of the park.

You spent your afternoon day dreaming under the big tree while thinking about your mother’s word. Funny how mother believes in soul mate things and what did she said? Someone will make you see colors again? Well you’ve started to forget what seeing things in colors looked like. A majority of your heart screamed that won’t happen, but a tiny part hopes you can see or at least find someone who can make you feel the colors again.

Yuta sat beside you; you shifted your head to look at him.

“Yuta… do you know what to do in a date? I’ve never been into one.” You deadpan stared into him and if you can see, you’ll definitely see a flustered Yuta. All this time he has been cool and reserved, strong and intelligent man, always ready to help you and he cracked jokes too. You’ve never heard or asked him about his love life.

“Yuta?” you reached out your hand to him and he held them, you remained silent and suddenly broke the awkward silence, “You’re nervous, why?”

Yuta face palmed, how could he forgot your senses are sharp and a slight change in action will bring you curiosity. He calmed himself down and pretended to not be flustered

“Well, I am the master of dating. Now, where should we start?” Yuta coughed and covered his flustered self. Damn he knew nothing too, but he can always look up Google for you right?

You fiddled with the hem of your dress, in two days you will have your first set up date or blind date: literary and metaphorically.

“Okay first thing first I will be there, so don’t worry too much.” Yuta chuckled nervously “You have to put the fear at home, be confidence, be you.”

“You know what, follow your heart. Now, we shall head home… I think it will rain.” Yuta stood up and helped you rise.

He thanked Heaven for sending a rain, but You didn’t found his answers satisfying. You went home nevertheless, with a heavy heart.

Friday came.

The whole house has never been this enthusiast before. It was only a blind date, but they treated it as if it’s already my big day.

You let your mother chose your evening dress, and you can do some of your make up by yourself, unless the difficult part, your mother will help.

You’re pampered and dolled up nicely. The simple black dress loosely fit your petite body. You twirled once to feel the fabric and yourself. Though you don’t feel like going anywhere tonight, you will try your best.

You sprayed your favorite fragrance followed by standing up from your chair.

“Let’s go…” you used your stick to help you stand up, and Yuta does his job. Your hand brushed the fabric he wore, “You’re wearing a suit?”

There was a pause from you and him

Yuta cleared his throat, “I should look decent right? Now, we need to hurry up or we will be late. You sure wouldn’t want to make your date wait right?”

You nodded your head and followed his guidance to the car. He ensured you fastened your seat belt in the passenger seat behind, and then moved to sit behind the wheels. He typed in tonight’s destination and departed.

The two of you arrived at a fancy rooftop dinner place. You stood beside Yuta nervously, your small hand kludged into his strong arms. In the small elevator rising to floor 12, you let go a long breath.

Yuta turned his head to you, “Nervous?”

You nodded your head, “It’s my first time… Of course I am nervous. Yuta what’s his name again?”

Your mind must be fuzzy for you kept on forgetting tonight’s date information.

“He’s from Canada-“ Yuta’s words were cut off as the elevator ding and the door opened.

“We’re here, let’s go.”

You and Yuta carefully left the elevator and you can feel the thick mattress laid like a red carpet across the hallway. This sure must be a top restaurant.

You walked gracefully with one stick on your hand and head held up. Having Yuta by your side somewhat comforts you.

You found yourself seated on a chair where the night breeze tickles you. Yuta excused himself after telling you he will be around, you can always wave and call him for a command.

You reluctantly let him go and waited for the man in front of you to speak. You assumed someone was there since a hint of cologne doesn’t miss your nose.

The introduction began; you learned his name, age, job, and nationality. He’s Mark Lee, a 26 years old song writer. He enjoys light conversation and his jokes are quiet funny. He loves watermelon so much to the point that you worry if he is alright. And you didn’t share the same movie genre. He is a successful man for his young age!

You skipped all the boring questions after learning his interests and telling him yours. You put on your cold face, cold heart, and prepared yourself to hear the truth.

“Okay so Mark, you’re a kind person and wonderful, but I just want to ask you,” You paused and bit your lips hesitating.

“Sure, ask me anything!”

“Why are you expecting to date me a blind girl?” You played with a napkin in your lap while waiting for his answer.

Mark froze and thought for a moment; hey he actually did not know the girl he is seeing tonight is blind. Her dating profile did not include that.

You snapped him from the silence, “It’s okay if you cannot answer. I know your answer already. You didn’t expect this right?”

Mark opened his mouth, about to make a rebuttal, but no words came out.

You straightened your back and raised your head to face him, “I can feel how you try your best not to hurt me, but love should not be forced right?” you waved your hand and wished Yuta saw you.

“I’m sorry,” Mark shot his vision to the sky line of Seoul at night.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault. I was the wrong one. It was nice knowing you Mark, thank you and good bye.” You grabbed your stick and left the restaurant with a confused Yuta by your side.

Yuta saw the man, he looked nice and cute. He was also successful and playful. Yuta actually would agree if this man dated (y/n), but he didn’t know why (y/n) did not even bother talking more or even learning his face. Come to think of it, she has never touched Yuta’s face too before.

On the way back home, you bombarded Yuta with tons of questions.

“Yuta tell me do I look like a fool when I enter the restaurant earlier? I’m sure people wonder why a blind girl like me go there… to meet a man. A wonderful man! Gosh why would he choose me over pretty idols and normal girls?” You ranted out your heart, a tear escaped from your eyes.

Yuta glanced from the rear mirror and saw you crying, “No, you didn’t look like a fool. You look pretty like princesses. No one looked at you in a bad way.” Yuta truthfully spilled you his heart’s answers, but earlier was nowhere near that.

“I heard the whispers and murmurs Yuta! Don’t lie to me too, please” you scoffed and threw your eyes to the window.

“But for me you’re doing so great for a first date, just that I thought Mark was cute enough to be your man.” Opinionated Yuta.

“He’s not my style; I don’t feel any spark of chemistry. Aish just focus on the road. I’m not doing anymore dates! People are only hurting my feelings.” You bit your lips and cried in silence.

You knew no one would date a blind girl unless they really like her, or fate made you two a thing. You rested your head on the window pane and memories of your brother flooded you. He would’ve been your dating coach if he’s still here, but no. Fate took him away from you, and fate took Jongin too.

You changed. Even worse.

You’re once again the cold, heartless young lady.

The dark thoughts of being blind haunted you every time you wanted to go to bed, or when you started your day.

Your mind repeatedly reminded you that you’re a blind person, who can only rely on someone else, vulnerable, bratty, and useless. You realized it will be hard and almost impossible to found a man who loves you truly for who you are, and not for the money and wealth.

You blamed fate for making you blind, you blamed everyone who made a small mistake, and it was not rare for you to rant your emotion out to Yuta. You hit him; you flooded him with tears, you basically made his life hard.

“Yuta I hate my life! What did I do wrong that I end up blind and have no donors for me up to this day?!”

Yuta detested to tell you the fact that, a lot of donors were found but none were compatible. He doesn’t want you to lose hope.

“Hey, listen I will be here by your side. We will find a suitable donor, and you will soon see colors again,”

You stared into the thin air, “Do you know how hard it is for me, to actually lose sight. Since young, I’ve enjoyed watching sceneries, seeing colors, play with paints, and pour my emotion in a canvas? I miss painting, Yuta.” A small smile greeted your lips when you imagined what painting felt like, “ I miss sneaking out at night to the garden, to paint the starry night. I miss walking with my brother to a hill by the end of town, to just sit on the grass and paint what I felt that day.” Your heart grew warm from the memory, you wiped a tear that left your eyes. your smile faded and your lips pouted.

“Now I can’t even remember what it feels like to finish a painting, I forgot how colors made me feel. I lost everything I love. How miserable can life be?” you threw a sad look to Yuta on your left. Lucky he was in that side.

Yuta sighed and suddenly left you by yourself.

“Yuta? Yuta! Hey where are you going” you shouted when you heard his foot steps leaving you and a door closing.

He ignored your call and made his way to the kitchen. It’s already eleven and you’re nowhere near sleeping. Yuta needed to make sure you rest enough, so he returned to you with a cup of hot lavender tea. You always have that when you don’t feel sleepy.

“How dare you leave me alone?! What if someone came and tried to harm me? Yuta you’ve worked for three years and you still leave me suddenly?”

Yuta was used to this. You would make small matters big whenever you’re having a rage.

“Here, have your lavender tea, then we will sleep. You’re tired okay from everything. Let’s sleep and tomorrow I will bring you somewhere.” Yuta impatiently fixed your pillows and blanket. You drank your tea to calm yourself down and forcefully followed his command. Without saying good night to him, you faced the other way around and closed your eyes. What Yuta did earlier hurts your feeling. Childish? Yes you are!

Yuta covered you in the blanket, then he left you after saying good night. He stretched his body as he made his way to his own room. How tiring was it to deal with a ranting (y/n). He smiled to himself when he remembered what he wanted to do tomorrow. Yuta dropped his tired body on the soft mattress and drove to dreamland faster than you did.

Yuta shot his eyes opened in alarm as the ringer on his nightstand rang and lighted up. He quickly put on his clothes and cursed at himself for sleeping in. Usually he was always up early before (y/n). Yuta dashed to your room, hairs still untidy just to reach you before one minute.

“Good… morning,” Yuta spoke between his breath.

You squinted your eye brow and listened to his panting, “You just ran?”

“Sorry I slept in, anyways I’m here now. Where would you like to go?” Yuta walked to your side to help you got out of the bed.

You stretched a bit before looking at him confused, “You asked? Of course I need to join mother and father for breakfast. Why did you even ask?”

Yuta yawned and scratched the back of his head “What’s wrong with me today?!” was all he questioned himself.

You made it to the breakfast after a quick bath, Yuta also left to take his shower.

Under the warm water, you laughed a little from Yuta’s sudden weird memory. Yuta was ready to accompany you descend the stairs after you’ve put on your morning dress.

Your parents were waiting for you already on the table and your casual breakfast started. Yuta sat across you, as per usual, and helped drive your food to the center of your plate.

Breakfast almost ended in peace, not until your mother decided to ruin your Sunday with another disastrous news.

“Mum’s sorry about your first date, Mark… I found you another sweet man, this time he knew about your condition and he agreed to come and bring you to the beach. Didn’t you told me you missed the beach?” Mother excitedly explained her big news.

You paused your movements and dropped your fork away from your mouth. “Not again mom?”

Your dad tried his best to keep you in a good mood, “He’s a nice guy, can we try for this once? Maybe going to the beach can make you happier too!”

“I didn’t want to go with a stranger. I want to go with you guys.” You tossed your fork and slightly pushed the half finished plate. Yuta looked at you confused, you never left a plate of waffles unclean.

“It was not a good memory for me,” you crossed your arms across your chest and stared down.

“Oh come on my (y/n)~ Try to make a happy memory then with this sweet guy. Please he will pick you up tomorrow!” your mother clasped her hands in delight.

“Beside Yuta will also join you, you’re not to be alone. Come to think of it, Yuta why don’t you bring your girl along and you can also enjoy the beach with your girl?” Your father offered a solution he thought might be a great idea.

You scoffed, “then Yuta will definitely forget me and be busy with his girl. What if someone harms me?”

Yuta hid a small smile, he felt satisfied seeing you jealous.

Your mother didn’t or pretended not to hear your scowl, instead she joined into father’s plan deeper. “Yeobo, that’s a super great idea! Yuta tell me if you still have nobody, I can help you look for one.”

You turned your head to look at Yuta and cocked a brow, though you cannot see his respond back, you frowned when you heard his happy reply.

“I’d love that mother,” He called your mother by the word mother. And he won her heart.

You the sound of a chair pushed back and small foot steps she made while looking for her phone.

You glanced at your plate in disbelief, Yuta can just leave you like that? Your father saw your plate, he ascended and sat beside you.

He took over your plate and cur the remaining portion, “Eat up princess, you don’t want to get sick right? I promise the man you’ll see tomorrow is a nice guy. You’ll have a lot of fun! Now finish your breakfast.” He drove the fork back into your hand and tapped it lightly.

Yuta has left his chair to help clean the plates, leaving you alone with your imaginations and plate.

“Yuta what’s your type?” Your mother excitedly followed Yuta around while asking him questions.

You covered your ears, but their conversations were as clear as a whistle!

“Yuta likes a petite girl, have a beautiful smile, likes nature especially mountains, love art, understands peace, acts like a lady, and of course who will love him purely.” You memorized a new thing inside your head. Well you overheard him answering mom, and it looked like the girl Yuta wanted was near perfect.

You wondered why your mother never asked you what kind of man do you prefer?

With the help of your stick, you made your way out of the house and into the garden. You called Vision and he ran to stand by your side. You don’t walk too far, you found your way to the bench and you sat there. You counted the time Yuta needed to realize you’re gone and for him to look for you.

Your mind drove you back to ten minutes ago, why does it hurt your heart when you heard Yuta will be walking with another girl… a girl he loves? You felt dejected when you heard his criteria of girl. You suddenly remembered of course Yuta will look for a pretty and perfect girl, not anyone like you. Though you don’t know why you were thinking of this.

30 minutes passed, you heard him calling for you and your sour face melted as a smile replaced them.

“(Y/n)! Where are you? Vision?” Yuta yelled through the big garden.

Your wealthy family provided you a big house, a big garden, and a bright shelter.

“Ah here you are!” Yuta tapped on your shoulder lightly and smiled when you remained silence.

“You’re not talking? Fine. Let me tell you, we’re going on a double date on Tuesday!” Yuta’s voice sounded too cheerful, or you’re just too salty.

“I don’t care Yuta, beside I don’t know yet if I’m coming or not to the beach.” You shrugged your shoulder.

Yuta sat by your side and held your hand, his sudden action caught your attention.

“Let’s forget that for a moment. I want to bring you to a place you missed. Now do you want to change or shall we go?” Yuta pulled you to stand up.

You rolled your eyes, what nonsense is this again?

“Let me at least wear a proper shoes.” You wriggled your toes from a fit flop.

Yuta excitedly helped you changed your shoes and after bidding farewell to your parents, Yuta drove the car through the highway.

He rolled the window down after an hour of drive and you could smell the grass, you felt the fresh air greeted your body, and you knew he’s headed to a hill.

He told you to inhale the fresh clean air as he busily took out a picnic mat and several other heavy things. Yuta laid down the mat and assisted you to take a sit while he finished packing out the baggage.

Yuta returned by your side with two blank canvas, a set of paints and brushes.

“Thanks for bringing me here, I miss this place. Tell me Yuta how does the scenery looks like?” You tossed your head to his side.

Yuta glanced into your bright happy face and closed his eyes, trying to feel the same thing you did.

“This place? Nothing changed I guess. A hill is supposed to look like a hill right. But I feel the peaceful fresh air. There’s no one else here.” Yuta peeked over his eyelids to make sure it’s true.

You raised your head to look at the sky, how you really wish you can see the blue sky with cotton clouds.

“I miss painting,” You mumbled to yourself.

“Then let’s make one.” Yuta suddenly held your hand and placed a brush on your palm.

You were stunned, confused to find someone telling you to paint when you’re blind.

“The canvas is here, feel the length and width first,” he lead your hand to feel the edges and size of the canvas.

“You can call me if you want to change brush, or you can feel them here, on your right side.” Yuta shook the can of brush beside your right ear.

“The paint will be on your left.” He brought your left hand to touch the palette.

“What about the colors Yuta?” Your voice sounded hopeless.

“I haven’t made it. You, you will make the colors by yourself. I will hand you the color, you put it on your palette.” Yuta smiled for his brilliant idea.

“Babo! I’ll definitely ruin the painting. I’ll mess the colors.” You put down the brush he placed on your hand earlier.

“I know you’re trying to make me happy, but I can’t paint anymore Yuta.” Your hand sadly touched the blank canvas.

Yuta took a deep breath, “Look, you paint not with those eyes. You’ll paint with the eyes of your heart. Just draw it there on the canvas. Spread your emotion, spill everything. Believe me, it will make your heart lighter.”

Yuta planted his eyes into yours with much hope. he really wanted to make you happy by doing things you love.

You smirked knowing Yuta won’t give up. Not when he already drove an hour away from the town and prepared all of this. You sighed, you lost today.

“Fine Yuta, I want red, yellow, and black on my palette. Put them in order from left to right. I’m painting my annoyed feeling because of a stubborn man sitting beside me.”

Your hand found the brush you desire and after making sure where the canvas and paints were, you started making random shapes at the canvas. It was hard at first for you to decipher where your brush was, but after several strokes and missing the edge… you started to get a hang of it.

Your enthusiast in painting burned within your soul again. Yuta was right, after each stroke, you felt your anger and sadness flew away. You stopped when your heart felt light and you called Yuta.

“Yuta, please blue and green! White too” you peeked your head over the canvas. Your face was stained with several splashes of paints, Yuta who was focusing on his own canvas had to stop and helped you with the colors.

“How is it? Does it scream at you?” You cheekily mocked him.

Yuta gaped at the masterpiece in front of you. Not gonna lie, the emotions were perfectly drawn in the colors you chose. The strong and brave lines showed how fed up you were in the dark world. Though he wondered why you wanted to add blue and green and white in it, he didn’t ask anything.

“It’s super you. Mad and furious all the time.” Yuta giggled and jumped away before you got the chance to slap him.

“YOU MADE ME DO THIS OKAY! AND YOU’RE MOCKING ME. HOW DARE YOU?!” you shook your brush furiously and Yuta can only laugh at you. He descended back to his position and continued his art work.

You’re back focusing on your emotions and masterpiece. The cool breeze, warm sun, and soft humming from Yuta calm you down. You have a smile on your face as you delicately moved your brush over the raging colors.

Truth be told, you really enjoy the activity Yuta did for you. Since that day, there has been several quick run away where Yuta will bring you to a quiet place and lets you paint what you're feeling. He successfully tames your anger and you're no longer the horrendous tiger, you're now a fuzzy cat.

Sun rises and sun sets, you've met several men from different backgrounds and lately you're losing hope to find your significant other. Well you've been asking them the same question and there was not single one answer which satisfies you.

Until one day on a quiet alley, Yuta brought you here since he said he needs to clear his head. Well his dates were all canceled, because you… you always do something to make him unavailable. Yuta only attended the first date where your parents made the two of you have a double date. Something in your heart doesn't like the attention Yuta gave to other girls… so you've always tried to make him unable to go.

You actually feel bad because Yuta might not realize you're doing things on purpose.

“Yuta,” you call out his name softly after feeling that he is not around you.

Turns out he was several feet away from you, painting a scenery of his choice. The said man glances from his canvas and walks to your side.

After giving out a single breath, he responds. “What can I help you with?”

There was ice in his voice and you suddenly feel bad for making him this sensitive. Yuta has never sounded this cold and heartless. Was it because of what you did last night?

**flashback**

“(Y/n)! Wish me luck! I'm going to the cinema tonight… she's my fifth date and I hope this time it goes well..” Yuta smiles brightly as he prepares everything you may need before he goes. You’ll be alone with the maids only, your parents are gone for a business trip.

You're on the music room, getting ready to practice your piano. At first you send him off easily. Yuta drives away and you've engaged yourself in the music piece.

An hour after his departure, you feel bored and decided to think of a way so Yuta can go home and maybe accompany you to bed while telling stories.

You think of any way that will make Yuta go home directly and with the help of one of the youngest maid in your house (which of course is close to you) … you made an “emergency" situation.

The maid called Yuta and the innocent man has to sadly finish his date night quickly. He drives the girl back home safely and lied to her that his mother is suddenly ill and he had to take care. The date bought his lie and at nine, he is already running through the house like a mad man. Yelling to the maids for not calling any medic helps and he found you sitting on your piano chair looking fine.

His breathing was short from running and the panic, “What happened?! What’s the emergency. Marry called telling me I have to come here quick.” Yuta said from the door.

He quirks his brow when he sees you're looking so fine. You feel his death grip on your shoulders as he toss your body around to check where the emergency is.

“Tell me what happened?!” His tone raises and you're suddenly so scared.

You gulped and suddenly feel so afraid. Why did the joke feel so horrifying right now.

You can sense his furious glare when he realized it's another “emergency" you made just to cancel his date plan.

“What is it now?” Yuta tries his best to not punch you in the face.

A tear escaped from your eye and you're shaking from fear.. “i'm sorry Yuta.. sorry.. but I had a panic attacked earlier when I suddenly remember the car crash.. and.. and..”

Yuta's eyes widen when he heard your reasoning.. well he knew if it's about the accident and panic attack… it is a serious matter.

“and then what? Did Marry fetch you your medicine?” Yuta kneels down beside you and gently brings you into his arms.

You snuggle into his embrace and a small smile appears from your lips. “Yeah… but.. she cannot make the best chocolate drink you always make.”

You can feel his body tensed and he suddenly lets go off the hug and straighten your body

“WAIT- you called me home just to make you a cup of hot chocolate?!”

You nod “and I actually got a paper cut… which I did not know until Marry came.”

Yuta darts his eyes to the white tiles and yeah there were some bloods there.

“You should learn to know when an emergency is really an emergency.” He suddenly snaps when he realizes you're playing with him. His voice no longer contains honey and there was only cold ice.

“You know what? I'll teach marry to make the hot cocoa and please don't ruin my date all the time.” He warns you and leaves the room with one loud door slam.

It came to his mind like a flood… all of his dates always fail because you.. you always made a small scene big.. and his heart will make him run away home. He did not know why he cared for you so much, he shrugged it off as “It's my duty to keep you safe.”

“Again? She ruined your date?” Taeyong, a long friend of Yuta, asked from the other side of the call.

Yuta nods “Yeah…” they're video calling and Taeyong’s face brightens “I knew it! She likes you Yuta!”

“Nani?!” his japanese tongue comes out.

Taeyong claps his hands “She likes you! Baka! Can't you realize she is jealous?! Gosh do you like her??”

Yuta thinks for a while “I'm not sure…”

“Do you feel like you have to keep her safe but not as a duty?”

Yuta nods

“Do you feel annoyed when you see other man seeing her but they show they regretted going there?”

“Well yeah that part… I had to hold myself back everytime! I wanted to puch them Tae! Had you seen their faces, you'd want to punch them too.”

Taeyong clicks his tongue “You always want to make sure she is happy? If it’s a yes… then congratulations Yuta! You're in love.”

Yuta goes red “I need time to process everything…”

Taeyong smirks “You will always need time but time is not what we all have in this world. Come on! Think quick, bring her to a date or talk with her about her favorite things! Take her heart before she totally hides it!”

Yuta smiles when he suddenly remembers what you want from a man and he quickly bids goodbye to his friend “Thank you Taeyong! You're the best! Good bye~”

In the hill, where everything is dark to you… you suddenly feel small and scared. Yuta brought you here, but he hasn’t open his mouth yet. You're afraid he actually left you here and ran away.

When he finally opened his mouth to answer you, you did not expect a cold tone to greet you.

After giving out a single breath, he responds. “What can I help you with?”

There was ice in his voice and you suddenly feel bad for making him this sensitive. Yuta has never sounded this cold and heartless.

You fiddled with the dress you wore, “I am sorry. I am just a parasite to your life. I'm only ruining your youth and happiness…” your voice cracked and trembled. Which seriously took Yuta by surprise.

“Hey what are you talking about?” Yuta's voice softened but you didn’t realize that.

You sniffled “I just want to find my love Yuta.. like mom said I want to find the one who can help me see colors again.”

Yuta’s heart clenched and he walked closer to pull you into his embrace “(y/n), you do know the doctors said my eyes somehow cannot be given to you, but if you're willing to give me a chance, I can help you see colors one more time.”

Your heart pounded faster upon hearing his sweet voice, what is this warm feeling creeping up your cheeks?

You leaned into his hug “What do you mean?” you were confused. Earlier he looked like he was super mad at you, but now he's like the sweetest man in the world.

Yuta takes a deep breathe, earlier he cleared his mind and upon stepping on the alley and feeling the wind blew, he felt way better. Yuta also remembered what Taeyong said and he felt like he needed to give it a shot. Try to win your heart.

“Alright, come here you don’t want to be lost princess.” He took your arm into his and you followed him.

“We will start with Red,” Yuta brought you to the area where the sun shone brightly.

“Look up, there's the sun and now when you feel your skin burn.. that is red. Red is burn, fear, and emotion.”

You feel your skin burning and your mind recorded everything.

Next yuta pulled you to a shadier place “Here let me take off your shoes, you trust me?” he asked when he kneeled down to take your shoes.

You nodded your head and felt the prickly grass beneath your feet.

“The grass will help you feel green. Green is color of life.” Yuta rolled his own pants and took off his shoes too. He enjoyed the same sensation you were going through.

You did not realize a small smile is coming to your lips, you can once again feel life.

“Happy?” he asked and you nodded, still holding on to his firm arm “Now it's gonna be slippery, but trust me.” He held your hand tighter and you felt a cool stream running under your feet.

You giggled “Water?”

Yuta smiled “Blue! This is blue, the cool feeling and relaxation.”

Your head started to guess what color will come next, and Yuta looked like he prepared this already.

Next he announced you to the color “Yellow, it's calming and you still feel happy.” He said when you sit on the grass as Yuta dried your feet and let you feel the sun kiss your cheek.

“Hey (y/n), can you help me?” he suddenly asked for your favor. You turned your head to face him, giving him a “what?” face.

“Help you?” you asked a bit confused.

“Yes, I need you to help me comb my hair, the wind blew too hard on them.” He lied there's no wind… but you bought his lie.

“Umm okay, let me try… come here.” You reached out your hand and waited for a comb to land but Yuta said “Use your fingers.”

You gently ran your fingers through his soft locks and you love the feeling of helping him and playing with his hair.

“Thank you! I look handsome now.” He held your hands in his big ones as he sat across you face to face.

“That is white, the pure feeling of helping someone.” Yuta rubbed his thumbs over your knuckles.

You cannot explain your feelings right now. Your heart thumped so hard on your chest, your stomach felt funny and your head couldn’t think straight.

But suddenly you felt empty, you felt the breeze of the wind turning wild and strong. You reached out your hands to the space “Yuta? Yuta!” your voice turned into a scream and you wildly looked for him.

You wanted to cry, did he leave you after playing with your emotion? But you suddenly felt his warm arms back at your shoulder

“That is black, something you may see everyday… but the feeling of being alone and afraid represented black.”

You quickly held to his hands, afraid he will leave you again but Yuta won’t.

The japanese man sat next to your side as you leaned your head to his shoulder.

“Thank you Yuta-" you whispered, but he was faster. He kissed your cheek and you blushed and froze in place.

“The last color is pink, the heat creeping up in your cheeks and the fluttery butterfly feeling you have when you fall in love.” Yuta sweetly explained and he was glad no one saw his deep red face.

Your smile grew wider as you touched your cheek that felt warm from his kiss. You turned your head to face him and like magic, your hand could find his chin in one go and you pulled him into a deep kiss.

Yuta didn’t refuse your kiss, he helped you by placing your hands over his cheeks and for the first time you realized Yuta has a handsome face.

“And that I can tell you, is how I see rainbows, Yuta!” you giggled when the kiss ended.

Yuta smoothed your hair lovingly and pulled you to his shoulder “Then I am ready to help you see more rainbows”

You smirked and punched his shoulder playfully “Thank you, I really want to thank you.”

“It's not a problem.” He shrugged his shoulder. His heart is also happy knowing you're glad.

“So… is it mutual?” you chuckled dryly, afraid of the awkward feeling this will turn to if Yuta didn’t like you in the same way.

Yuta pulled you close to his heartbeat “Hear that?”

You nodded

“That's what you did to me all the time!”

You blushed “So you did like me! Why don’t you do this sooner?”

Yuta rolled his eyes “I'm sorry. I'm a newbie too.”

You giggled “I am glad I found the man who can help me see colors again! I love you, Yuta" you sincerely stared into his eyes and for the first time, Yuta could see your eyes sparkle with life again.

“And I love you most.”

“so, when are you ready to meet my mom?” you boldly questioned him.

“Eh? That soon?” he sounded surprised

You laughed “Kidding. I won’t rush you! Tell me okay when you're ready? Because I am ready.”

Yuta smiled and tucked your hair away from your face “Keep smiling like this for me, you're beautiful and life is also beautiful if you think that way. I can't give you back the colors in your life, but I can help you make colors and feel them for the rest of our life.”

Although you never know when you can see colors again, you’re ready to walk with Yuta in this dark world where he can be the source of your light and brings back the color to your life.

end.

leave comments and feedbacks please :D thank you so much for finishing this fic! I’ll try my best to make better stories

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amylillian22 · 4 years ago

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Doggie Door

Summary: Y/N moves in next door to Chris Evans. One night she gets called into work and asks Chris if he can dog sit her beagle, Phoebe. Knowing how crazy her work is, Chris hires someone to build a fence with a doggy door for both Dodger and Phoebe.

Word Count: 1,784

Warnings: None. Cutness. Puppy love, pun intended, lol.

Author’s Note: I can’t remember, but someone gave me the idea to write something similar to this. Also, I couldn’t find a gif that worked with the story. Instead, I picked this cute one of both Chris and Dodger.

[My Chris Evans Master List]

Moving from Texas to Boston was slightly overwhelming for Y/N as she had never left her home state before. However, she knew it was the right decision to do when she landed her dream job at Mass General as the Chief of Pediatric Surgery. Within a week, she packed everything in boxes, drove across the country with her fur baby, Phoebe.

It’s her third day in her new home. The movers had arrived yesterday and managed to help her set up and place all the heavy furniture where she wanted. All that was left to do was unpack her boxes and turn the house into her new home.

She grabbed a box labeled dishes from the garage and brought it to the kitchen. She turned around and noticed Phoebe’s dog tags on her collar weren't clinging as she walked. Phoebe wasn’t a lazy beagle. She was active and always on Y/N’s heels.

“Phoebe?!” She looked around the half empty house and couldn’t find her. “Baby, now is not the time to play games. Where are you?” She called out again before she noticed she didn’t properly close the door that led to the garage, which was also open.

“Damn it!” She ran outside to the middle of the street. “Phoebe?!” She yelled. She jogged down the street calling out her name until she reached the deadend at the end of the street. Her eyes began to well up at the thought she lost her fur baby of 5 years.

“Phoebe?” She called out once more in front of her house.

“Excuse me?” Y/N turned around to see a handsome man walking towards her with Phoebe trailing behind him and another dog. Y/N rushed towards Phoebe and immediately kneeled down to hug her.

“I’m guessing this is your Phoebe?” Her neighbor chuckled as Phoebe licked Y/N’s face.

“Yes, thank you so much,” she stood up. “I got worried. I’m not familiar with the neighborhood just yet and neither is Phoebe.”

“I was washing my car and she came on over and started playing with Dodger,” she looked down to see his dog smelling and sniffing Phoebe. Phoebe licked his face before they started running around in the front yard. “I guess they like each other,” he smiled at the two dogs in front of him before he turned to look at her.

His smile was gorgeous. Infectious. She couldn’t help but smile back at him as she responded, “I guess so.”

“I’m Chris,” he extended her hand for a handshake.

“Yes, I know who you are. You’re Captain America. I’m Y/N,” she smiled as she took his hand in hers. “It’s hard not to know who you are when you work with a bunch of kids.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “So, you’re a teacher.”

“Actually, no. I just got the job as the Chief of Pediatric Surgery at Mass General.”

“Oh, wow. That’s amazing. It’s funny,” he chuckled.

“What is?”

“I work with a charity that helps with the kids and family at Mass Gen,” he explained.

“Really? I’d love to hear more about it.” She hoped he took the bait. She knew he was attractive. The guy was practically a Greek God. She only hoped he was open to the possibility of getting to know her just as much as she wanted to get to know him.

“How about over dinner sometime?” He asked with a sly grin.

YES! She mentally screamed.

“I’d like that. Well, you know where I live,” she pointed at her house. She mentally face palm at herself knowing she probably looked like an idiot pointing out with her thumb like she’s hitchhiking.

He chuckled, “I gotta get back to my car.”

“I’ll see you soon.” “Hopefully sooner than later,” he flirted back.

She smiled at him once more before she called out for Phoebe. Phoebe licked Dodger’s face once more before she ran back to her owner. Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle when she heard Chris tell Dodger, “I think you have a girlfriend now.”

***

During the past week, Y/N and Chris hadn’t had their dinner date yet. It’s not that they decided not to do it or one changed their mind. Y/N’s first week at her new job was hectic. She barely had time to cook or get a good night’s sleep. Chris has also been busy filming a new show for AppleTV in Boston.

However, in between their crazy and busy lives, they still saw each other in passing. They had small conversations when getting the newspaper or the mail. They’d say hi or bye when one caught the other on their way out.

But today was different.

“Ugh,” Y/N groaned as she quickly grabbed whatever clean clothes she could find. Phoebe whined in her bed, clearly annoyed she’s being disturbed during her sleep. “What the hell am I gonna do with you?” She asked Phoebe.

She quickly tied her shoes and glanced at the time. It was nearly 3AM and she was on call. Unfortunately, she was needed for emergency surgery as one of her patients took a turn for the worst. Given the horrible situation, Y/N was already worried and stressed about Phoebe. The surgery would take over 12 hours. The doggy daycare was closed to have Phoebe with her new furfriends for the night. She had no other choice but to ask her new neighbor.

She made a ‘tsk-tsk’ noise, signaling Phoebe to follow her. She took a second before she happily followed her owner. Y/N grabbed the pink leash and hooked it on Phoebe’s collar.

“Come on, baby,” She opened the front door and grabbed her work backpack. Y/N crossed her yard and into Chris’. Phoebe’s tail wagged with excitement as she realized she was going to visit Dodger.

“Please don’t get mad,” she mumbled to herself as she rang the doorbell and looked at the dark house.

She waited and hoped Chris would answer the door. Dodger immediately barked as the doorbell echoed throughout the house. Within seconds he was at the front door, barking and jumping up and down with excitement as he saw Phoebe outside the other side of the door.

After a couple of seconds later, Chris opened the door. Y/N tried her best not to drool as he was shirtless and his dark gray sweatpants hung low on his hips. He rubbed his tired and sleepy eyes, “Is everything okay?”

“I’m so sorry to wake you, but I have a huge favor to ask,” she started. “I got called into a long surgery. Too long I can’t leave Phoebe home alone. I’m wondering if you can watch her while I’m gone?” She continued without giving Chris a chance to answer. “The guys were supposed to built a fence earlier this week because I knew this was gonna happen, but somehow they were double booked and short staffed at the same time and-”

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Relax. I got this. I can take care of Phoebe and I can keep her for a few more hours than needed so you can get some sleep afterwards. I got this. Go! A kid needs you right now. Go be the awesome superhero that you are,” He said as he grabbed Phoebe’s leash.

“Thank you so much,” she leaned and kissed his cheek. “I owe you.”

“I’ll be sure to collect,” he smiled as he waved goodbye to her.

***

Y/N groaned and turned around to lay on her back. She looked at the clock and noticed she had slept 12 hours straight once she finished her 14 hour surgery. Although there was some complications, she still had a successful surgery. The kid would have a long and hard recovery, but he was going to be able to live life to the fullest.

“I need to get Phoebe,” she mumbled to herself before she got up from her bed.

Phoebe had been next door for over 24 hours and she couldn’t have been more appreciative and thankful for Chris’ help. She already had mind to cook dinner on her night off for the both of them as a thank you.

She opened the back door and her eyebrows immediately furrowed as she saw a wooden fence around her backyard. On the left side, there was a big square hole on the fence and as if on cue, Phoebe and Dodger ran through their new opened doggie door. Phoebe ran and jump on Y/N, excited to see her owner after what seemed like forever ago.

“Hi, baby girl,” Y/N cooed as she scratched behind Phoebe's ears. Dodger started barking, wanting the same love and attention Phoebe was getting.

“Hi, Dodger,” Y/N chuckled as both dogs started licking her face.

“Howdy, neighbor!” Chris called from over the fence. Y/N stood up and walked over to see Chris’ head. She knew he was tall, but not that tall. She assumed he was standing on his picnic table.

She chuckled, “is that going to be a thing? Howdy neighbor? Because if so, I need to pull out my overalls and cowboy hat from my summer box.”

Chris laughed, his smile reaching the corner of his eyes. “So what do you think?” He lifted his arms up, showcasing the new fence.

“Chris, you really didn’t need to do this,” she started, only to be interrupted by him.

“I already had the guys coming in yesterday and I asked them to build you a fence since they were already here.”

“Let me get my check book,” she was about to walk away.

“No. It’s okay. It’s all taken care of.”

“I insist.”

“It was nothing. Just a few selfies and videos with them and they started building right away,” he smiled. “Wanna know the best part of it?”

“I saw it. The doggy door between the fences,” she smiled. “Smart idea.”

“Oh, it definitely is, but that’s not the best part,” he hopped off the picnic table. The doggy door hole was attached to a regular size door for them to cross over any time. Chris opened it and grinned as he entered her backyard, “I got us a big doggy door. Wait, that sounded wrong,” he chuckled nervously.

Y/N’s heart swelled knowing he went above and beyond to make things as easy for her the next time she got called into work in the middle of the night for surgery.

“I really don’t know how I can ever thank you,” she walked over towards him. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

He cupped her cheeks and pulled her in for a kiss. It was gentle yet so passionate. Y/N couldn’t help but wrap her arms around his neck. Chris’ fingertips dug into her hips, fighting the urge to bring her body flushed against his. She pulled back first, her lips ghosting his.

“You’re very welcome,” he whispered. Then, his lips formed a huge smile and started chuckling.

“What?” She laughed with him.

“I’d told you I’d collect.”

#chris evans #chris evans imagines #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #Chris Evans x reader #Chris Evans fluff #dodger evans

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inkribbon796 · 4 years ago

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Alea Iacta Est Ch. 2: The Still Hourglass

Summary: The hunt for Dark’s newest spawnlings is on.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

King was dead to the world, completely asleep when his phone began to ring, the custom ringtone of the chorus from “I Love Myself” by the Wannadies playing.

Grumbling in anger, King blindly fumbled for his phone and answered it, “Fuck you, Ills, what time is it?”

“Seven,” Illinois answered over the phone as King dragged his hand across his face. “Look, I wouldn’t have called if I couldn’t find Host, Dark’s got more spawnlings, I need help finding them.”

“I’m going back to bed,” King decided.

“No! Kay, please,” Illinois begged and that was what started actually waking King up, Illinois really sounded that desperate. “Dad’s not doing well, I need to find them.”

“Okay, okay,” King reached over for his glasses, starting to accidentally signal to Lunky that it was time to get up and the spawnling started screeching. “I’m up, just buy me a coffee.”

“After this is all done, I’ll buy you whatever the hell you want,” Illinois promised.

Across the other side of the Egoton portion of town, Mark, Amy, and Ethan had already gotten up.

It was foggy from a rare summer cold spell. They were having an earlier day than usual since they were scheduled for an earlier patrol later.

They had their dogs with them and were talking about random topics while on a run in their normal clothes. Or at least Mark was shit talking and Ethan was shit talking to him back. Either way it was a calm morning.

Then Spencer stopped almost dead, tugging the leash as he stared down the street. The dog began growling, Ethan could physically see the hairs on the little shepherd standing up.

“Ethan?” Mark slowed down but he was still a good twenty feet away from him with Amy and their dogs. Chica was whining and Henry was just staring silently at the same direction Spencer was growling in.

“I don’t know, he just stopped,” Ethan looked around for any trouble. He saw what was wrong a bit too late. There was a patch of darker fog creeping towards him, about the size of a small mountain bike, much bigger than how he’d started out as a dinner plate sized cloud.

Spencer had smelt him but Ethan didn’t see him coming until the spawnling pounced.

A flash of aura, coated in words moved through the group and the dogs were suddenly gone, back home and fully rested and fed after their walk. But their owners didn’t move with them.

Ethan suddenly became aware that it got hard to breathe. Mark and Amy ran over to try and help Ethan when they were jumped by similar aura clouds, Mark trying to fly out of the crowd but he felt something almost pin him in place.

After a bit of a struggle the fog began to get burned away in the morning summer heat and the three heroes stood there, pushed to the back of their own minds.

“That was way more difficult than I thought it was going to be,” Mark heard himself say.

Ethan heard a bubbling laugh come from his own throat, “Let’s split up and see who can cause the most damage. I bet it’s me.”

“Eat shit, you’re on,” the demon controlling Mark spat and immediately turned tail and ran, Amy watching them both run off in different directions before the demon used her flight to take off into the sky. The Host watching the three of them go.

What most heroes woke up to was chaos. It didn’t take long for them to realize that, one, it was Silver and Crank causing the problem; and, two, they were being controlled by demons.

Not that the pair of demons let themselves get caught. The trio of demons had already been going crazy consuming aura before they took their bodies. The death troll had already risen to ten before the heroes’ bodies had been hijacked. Now things were getting worse with a super strong hero who could fly and one who could turn invisible being controlled by demons.

Marvin ran out with Chase in the hopes of finding Silver because Crank had gone invisible and some accounts said he had slipped into the river and was refusing to be drawn back out. Bing was on the hunt with Oliver and Logan to find Crank.

But it was Illinois who had joined the search with King who found one of the trio first.

“What do yeh mean there’s a third one ‘a these fookers?”[1] Marvin demanded, his voice coming over King’s communicator.

“There were three of them,” Illinois explained. “Just don’t kill them, let me trap them and—”

Illinois paused as he watched a woman walk towards them, cautious and careful.

The adventurer froze at the cloud of aura around her, the spawnling was already so much bigger and more powerful than when they had escaped the Manor.

“Might have found one, Marv, call you back,” King warned and lowered his communicator.

“Hey,” Illinois greeted.

“Hi,” she smiled back. “Where’s the pink one?”

“You mean Wil?” Illinois asked.

The spawnling had Amy nod, “Yes, I like his aura more.”

Illinois smiled in triumph and took out one of the pieces of chalk, laced with Dark’s aura, that he used to open up portals. “Alright we’ll just head back home and—”

Thick black and white aura began to cloud around the demon’s human host, a threat, “Not so fast.”

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” Illinois started trying to move in front of King. “I can take us back to the Manor, you can calm down. Both of them are there.”

The spawnling was quiet before dropping her host, Amy falling away and crashing to the ground in a semi-conscious daze. The spawnling still looked like her, her outfit part white and part black,

“You got a name?” Illinois asked.

“Tempus,” she introduced, stepping away from Amy as the hero began to shakily pick herself up. King moved slowly to get to her and pull her away.

“You okay?” King began to whisper as Illinois drew open a portal and made sure to show it led back to the Manor and he walked through first, Tempus following him into the Manor’s entrance hall.

“Okay, you know where the other two are?” Illinois asked her.

Tempus gave a noncommittal shrug, looking around the Manor.

“I’m trying to keep them from being killed, I would appreciate a little help,” Illinois barked at her.

The argument was cut off before it could even begin as Illinois heard Dark and Wil arguing as Dark was coming down the stairs.

“For the last time, I’m fine, I’ve been asleep far too long,” Dark dismissed, his aura curled protectively around him.

“At least grab something to eat,” Wil insisted before the two of them saw Illinois and Tempus. “Oh, hello.”

“We’re still trying to find the other two,” Illinois told Dark as he walked over. “They’re causing a scene all over town.”

“I noticed,” Dark told him hesitantly. “Hello, my dear.”

Tempus was extremely hesitant about approaching him, as if he’d strike out against her. An action Dark had neither the heart nor drive to do now that she held her own sentience, and Wil’s aura still was palpable amidst her own.

“Sweetie?” Wil rushed over and picked her up, twirling her around, before setting her back down and cupping her face gently in his hands. “You’ve gotten so big. It seems like just yesterday you could fit in the palm of my hand.”

“They separated this morning, Wil,” Dark reminded sharply. “Your name, my dear?”

She smiled at him, “Tempus.”

“And where are your siblings, Tempus?” Dark asked.

“I saw them a little bit ago, but I don’t know where they are now,” Tempus admitted as the group heard an audible gasp from the top of the stairs.

The four of them saw Yan, leaning over the railing of the stairs and staring at Tempus. When Tempus looked back at her, Yan ducked a little bit.

“Yan come meet your sister, Tempus,” Wilford cheerfully introduced.

Yan came down the stairs nervously ducked behind Dark, who was eyeing his new sister carefully.

There was a little bit of tense silence as Yan peeked out from behind Dark. “Can we be friends and have sleepovers and makeovers?” Yan asked Tempus.

“Well see,” Tempus allowed but smiled at Yan. Yan’s eyes got all big and hopeful.

As the situation defused, Illinois walked over to Dark and began debriefing him on the current situation.

“—and pretty sure we’re going to have to fish the other one out of the river,” Illinois concluded.

“Right, the sooner the better,” Dark agreed, and threw open a portal.

Illinois, however, caught the fact that his hand was shaking as he did so. “No, you should go back to bed, I’ll take care of it.”

“I’ve been in bed for far too long today, stay with your father,” Dark walked through a portal, and Illinois followed him before he could close it fast enough.

“What are you doing?” Dark demanded.

“Staying with my father,” Illinois didn’t break eye contact. “If you’re not going back to bed, like you should, then neither am I.”

“I shouldn’t be in bed, I don’t need to sleep,” Dark scoffed defensively. “I am fine.”

“I’m not going to watch you almost die again,” Illinois told him.

“If I died then I was too weak to handle it in the first place,” Dark scoffed.

“No it’ll be because you pushed yourself too far, why can’t you just let us take care of you, Dad,” Illinois ordered.

“I am not your father,” Dark spat, his mental walls coming up.

“Then who is it? Because it sure as shit isn’t Wil!” Illinois shouted in anger. “He was never my dad, it was always yours!”

Dark’s next words lodged in his throat, and with his already weakened state, he couldn’t stop his blue soul from reaching out for Illinois.

The effect was almost instantaneous, the adventurer felt the impact of such overwhelming emotions that it immediately brought tears to his eyes. The burden of pain, loss, fear, longing, and the need to never let go.

Illinois reached out and pulled Dark in for a hug, the Entity trying frantically to pull his blue soul back into compliance. He wanted to reach out and destroy something, to point to it and warn everyone that he was still dangerous.

But the only thing in his arms was Illinois, and his mind stalled.

When Dark could finally get the soul under control, or at least not screaming in his mind as much, he found he had a new problem, Illinois’s aura was latched into his. Even as Illinois started to pull back, he held on, “You know, even if I was calling Wil “Dad”, I am allowed to have two dads.”

“Stop,” Dark told him, realizing that his own voice was choked up, instinctively looking around to see if anyone was watching them. Thankfully the answer was no. “Don’t give me this so it can get ripped away.”

Illinois leaned back so he could look Dark dead in the eyes, “You’re my dad, and nothing is going to change that, I promise.”

Dark held onto Illinois’s arm, trying desperately not to get even more, impossibly, emotionally attached than he already was.

He was failing. Miserably. Happily.

Illinois smiled again and Dark couldn’t help but get a little hopeful. “Come on, let’s go find those two runts before they get themselves killed.”

With that Illinois led Dark away as they followed the sounds of chaos.

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

Accessibility Translations:

1. What do you mean there’s a third one of these fuckers?

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atlafan · 5 years ago

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Take it Slow - Part Sixty-Nine

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, and angst. Long part, whoops!

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

The next morning, you get up at 4:30 to take Buster out. You wanted him to get used to you taking him out in the morning. He was still asleep when you picked him up out of his crate. You take him down to the street, and walk him a bit. Once he’s tired out you bring him back up. You get his breakfast and some fresh water ready. He plops on the floor and watches you do a quick home work out. He thinks you want to play when you start jumping up and down. Eventually you decide to just play with him on the ground and toss a tennis ball for him to play fetch with. He was so smart already.

Harry eventually wakes up and comes out just wearing his boxers. Buster trots over to him and you smile as he crouches to pet him.

“Hey little guy, how’d yeh sleep?” The dog yips at him and Harry laughs. “Oh good, mummy and I were worried.” He looks at you. “Take him out and all that?”

“Mhm, he took the cutest little poop.” You giggle. “Fed him too. I’ll probably have to take him out again soon.”

“I’ll take him, or we could take him together.”

“Yeah!” You look at your watch. “Oh! Niall will be leaving for work soon, let me text him to wait down at the street. It’ll be good to start socializing him.” Harry nods and goes to get dressed. “You look so cute in your painting pants.” You kiss his cheek and put the leash on Buster.

Niall crosses the street and picks Buster up immediately.

“Can yeh believe it? I’m an uncle!”

“Wait, let me take your picture with him.”

“The ones you posted yesterday were so cute. Your eyes were all red and puffy.” He laughs.

“She cried like a baby at Adam’s barn.” Harry explains.

“Surprised it wasn’t you.”

“Me too.”

“You can come play with him after work if you want. Sarah can come too of course.”

“Yeah, I’ll see what’s doin’. She’s getting’ stressed from end of year stuff. I didn’t know a third grade class could be so crazy.”

“Well she doesn’t exactly teach at the easiest school.” You say.

“No kiddin’.” He puts the dob back on the ground. “Well, I’ll see you all later. Hey, you should put him in the zoom chat later today. I’m sure everyone would love to see a puppy.”

“Will do! Have a good day.” You smile. You and Harry head down the street so Buster can pee again.

“He gets tired so easily.” Harry says, cradling him to his shoulder as he carries him back up.

“He’s still a baby. Baby’s get tired.”

“Will you bring him by around lunch time?”

“Of course! Would you like that Buster?” You say as you take him back from Harry. “Would you like to visit daddy later?” Harry’s face lit up, and you scrunch your face at him. “Don’t get too excited, I’m not bringing that word into the bedroom.”

“Don’t wantcha to.” He kisses your forehead. “I gotta go, love you.”

“Love you too, have a good day. Wave bye bye to daddy Buster.” You take his paw and move it back and forth. Harry takes his phone out and takes a picture of you. You stick your tongue out at him and he takes another picture. “Oh would you just leave already?!”

“Sorry, you’re just too cute.” He blows you a kiss and leaves.

You do your work up in the loft. Buster stays in your lap for most of the day. You take him for a good walk once mid morning hits, and you show him to everyone in your zoom meeting. Once it’s a little before noon you get him in the car and head to the studio.

Harry was upstairs in his office painting when he hears you come in. He comes right down and Buster runs to him. He picks up and swings him around (gently). Buster licks his cheek and he chuckles.

“I could certainly get used to this.”

“Wanna go for a walk, it’s beautiful out.”

“Sure!” Harry grabs his keys and locks up. He holds onto the leash as Buster walks. “How’s your day with him been?”

“Really easy. He’s been sitting on my lap while I’ve been working. He only peed on the floor once, and that was in the kitchen. I took him right out after it happened. Other than that he’s been going when I take him out. He’s a baby, so he’ll have accidents.” You shrug.

“I can’t wait to be able to just bring him with me to the studio once it’s up and runnin’.”

“My supervisor said I could bring him to work with me until you’re able to start bringing him.”

“Oh that’s great! They won’t mind?”

“He barely makes a peep, plus it’ll help socialize him.”

“Right.”

“I was thinking too, we could keep his hair on the shorter side. I don’t like floppy looking dogs.”

“My hair’s floppy and yeh like me just fine.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think Buster would like using a scrunchie to keep the hair out of his face like you currently are.”

“You’re just mad because I keep stealin’ yours.”

“I’m just going to buy you your own package.”

“The more the merrier.” He flashes you his shit eating grin and you nudge him.

Over the next couple of weeks, you and Harry take the time to train Buster. He has a few accidents, but nothing serious. He’s good about sleeping in his crate, and he’s been wonderful to bring to work with you. Harry keeps making progress on the studio. The furniture has been delivered and its’ starting to look like a real place. Mariah and Isaac both put their two weeks in, and start coming in to help Harry with the equipment.

“So I’ve been thinking, we should have a grand opening for your studio.” You say over dinner one night. “We could make a big social media event out of it. I think it would be nice for people to walk around and see everything. We could put some large prints up on the walls, and then get some booklets made. Isaac could book appointments on the spot.”

“I love the way your mind works, I think that’s a great idea.”

“Yay! So what I’ll do is put an event on the Facebook page, and then we can share it everywhere. I was thinking the beginning of June.”

“Sounds good to me. Thanks again for all your help. I feel like I get notifications every day asking when it’ll be up and running.”

“It’s been so much to-“ The dog yips at you. “What is it baby? Need to go out?” He yips again. “Okay, mumma take you out.” You get up from the table. “Mind cleaning up for me?”

“Sure.”

You put the leash on Buster and take him out to pee. He really needed to go.

“Good boy, Buster!” Harry hears as you come back inside about ten minutes later. “He needed to poop too.” You take the leash off and he rushes over to Harry.

“Good boy! Want daddy to get you a treat?” Buster yips at him. “Alright.” He goes into the kitchen and gets a dog cookie. “Now, yeh gotta sit, Buster. Sit.” Harry makes a motion with his hand, and the dog does so. “Good, down.” Buster lays on the floor. “Up.” He sits back up. “Good boy!” He gives Buster the street and scratches his head.

“I can’t believe how much bigger he’s already gotten in just a few weeks.”

“I know. His coloring is really startin’ to come in too.” You start tearing up, and Harry looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s just growing up so fast.” You sniffle. “He’ll be huge before we know it.”

“He’s only gonna be like twenty-five pounds. He’s one of the smaller ones, remember?” He holds you close to his chest.

“He’s just my precious baby and I want him to stay that way.” You say against him. Buster walks over to you both and looks up at you, wagging his tail. “C’mere my doll.” Harry closes his eyes to kiss you, but you’re bending down to pick Buster up. “God, pretty soon he’ll be too big to pick up, Harry.” You sniffle again and snuggle your face into Buster’s hair. “Let’s go snuggle on the sofa.” Harry stands there and watches you walk away. You look back at him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Sorry, I honestly couldn’t tell if you were talkin’ t’me or the dog.” He walks over and sits down with you. Buster plops into his lap. “You call us the same names.”

“Aww, Buster, I think daddy’s jealous of how much attention I give you.” You scratch the top of Buster’s head and his tail wags.

“M’not jealous. You could just be more clear of who you’re talkin’ to. Like, could you leave doll for me?” You chuckle and shake your head.

“Sure, I’ll leave doll for you.”

“S’all I ask.” He turns the TV on, and he throws an arm around you. “Hey, babe?” You hum your response. “I left my laptop upstairs and I need it for a second, do yeh mind grabbin’ it? I’d get up, but I’m afraid he’s snoozin’.”

“Sure.” You get up and Harry watches you go up the spiral staircase. There was a box on top of his laptop. You furrow your eyebrows when you see it has your name on it. You open it up and he hears you gasp from upstairs. You come running down. “What’s this?!” You say holding a watch in your hand.

“Happy nine months, love.” You come over and give Harry a big kiss.

“Thank you sweetie, you didn’t have to get me anything. I feel like shit, I didn’t get you anything.”

“You give me somethin’ every day.” You put it on and sit back down.

“What’s that?”

“A life that I love so much.”

“Put the dog in the crate.” You say, giving him your bedroom eyes.

“Yes ma’am.” He salutes you and carries the dog to the crate. You smack his butt while you race by him. “Oi! None of that tonight.” You turn to look at him and pout. “Okay…maybe some of that.” He chases you into he room and you squeal.

“Kyle, I’m gonna be super busy this weekend. I’m getting things together for the house warming in a couple weeks, and I’m planning Harry’s grand opening.”

“Please! Mum had to back out and we’re desperate. We’ll bring over everything you need. Lily doesn’t want him with Bridget or Erica, she really only trusts you.”

“Bridget is a fucking nanny what do you mean?!”

“I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense, Lily just feels more comfortable leaving him with you. I know you just got the dog and everything, but we haven’t had a weekend away in a really long time, please.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me three days before…ugh fine. We’ll watch him this weekend. But you’re picking up and dropping off.”

“Thank you! We owe you big time.”

“Yes, you do.”

You sigh and hang up the phone. You turn around to Buster who’s laying in his dog bed in your office.

“Well Buster, you’re gonna have a visit from your cousin Michael this weekend.” The dog yips and you giggle. “Yeah, it’ll be fun.” Niall comes to your office.

“Ready to take him for a walk?”

“Sure thing Uncle Niall.” You both laugh, and put the leash on Buster.

“He’s like our little office dog now.”

“I know, everyone’s been so nice about having him around.”

“He’s so well behaved, how could we not like havin’ him.” You get down to the street and he trots along a pace a head of you, looking back occasionally to make sure you’re there. “Quite the mumma’s boy, huh?”

“He takes after his father.” You say with a smirk and Niall bursts out laughing.

“Monkey see, monkey do, I suppose.” He smiles at you still laughing.

“Get this, I have to babysit my nephew all weekend.”

“You seem annoyed by that.”

“Normally I’d be over the moon, but I’m planning two parties, and we’re still training Buster. I’ve got my own baby now.”

“Well, now you’ve got two.” He nudges you. “He gettin’ jealous at all?”

“Of what?”

“How much attention you’re givin’ the dog over him.”

“Not jealous…more like a slight annoyance. But it’s cute.”

Harry gets home from the studio exhausted. Him and Mariah were hanging things on the walls all day while Isaac dictated where everything should be.

“I’m home!” He yells when he doesn’t see you. “Where the fu-“

“Good boy Buster!” You giggle as you come in through the door. “Oh hey, did you just get in?” You ask, kissing him on the cheek.

“Yeah, didn’t know where yeh were for a second.”

“Baby needed to do his business.”

Buster sniffs at Harry’s feet and looks up at him with his tongue hangin’ out.

“Hey buddy, missed yeh today.” He looks at you. “Thought you might’ve brought him by…”

“Too busy today. Niall and I took him out for a quick walk at lunch, but that was it.” You take the leash off Buster and he follows you around. ��Dinner’s wrapped up in the kitchen for you.”

“Thanks.” Harry scarfs down his food and joins you and the dog on the sofa.

“So get this.”

“What?”

“We’re babysitting Michael this weekend, like overnight.” Harry blinks at you. “Shit, I thought you’d be more excited.”

“I have two weddings on Saturday, I’ll be gone all day, and most of the evening.” He runs a hand through his hair. “When are they bringin’ him?”

“Friday night…”

“Two nights? Well, at least I can help a bit Friday. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’ll be able to handle it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You were slightly annoyed, but there was nothing you could do.

Friday night Kyle and Lily bring Michael over with everything he’ll need.

“I just ask that he sleeps in the room with the two of you. He’ll sleep comfortably in his pack and play, but I don’t want him to get scared if he wakes up and doesn’t know where he is.” Lily explains.

“Sure, we can do that.” You smile and she helps you set up the pack and play in the bedroom.

“How’s the pup treating you guys?” Kyle asks Harry.

“Oh, he’s been great. We got lucky with an easy one.” Buster was on the floor sniffing away at Michael who was in his bouncy loving the way Buster’s hair felt on his skin.

“Okay, all set up.” Lily says.

“All the food for him is in the fridge. He’s usually good, but he’ll cry the second he’s hungry. Make him wait a few minutes though. He needs to know he can’t get what he wants the second he wants it.”

“Kyle…I’ve watched him before, I know what to do.” You laugh.

“Okay, okay. Thank you both again.”

You say goodbye to them and looks over at the two babies on the floor.

“So…he’s really sleepin’ in the room with us?”

“Yeah, Buster’s gonna be pissed.” You pat his head and then take Michael out of the bouncy. “It’s almost your bed time, dude.” You give him a little raspberry on his cheek and he giggles. You cradle him to your chest and rock him back and forth. Harry watches you lovingly. “Don’t even look at me.” He starts laughing.

“Why?”

“A dog is plenty right now.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“Shhh! He’s starting to doze off. It’s easier to get him into the pack and play if he’s already asleep.” You press your lips to his head. “Can you take Buster out while I put him down, he’s out.”

“Yeah.”

When Harry comes back he finds you leaning over the pack and play stroking at Michael’s head, lulling him to sleep. Harry stands in the doorway with Buster at his side.

“Stay.” He says quietly to him as he walks in. He smiles at you and you gesture to leave the room. You grab the baby monitor and close the door.

“Did he go?”

“Yup, took a massive dump for his daddy.”

“Don’t be gross.”

“You tell me about his shit all the time, why can’t I?”

“Because you say things like massive dump.” You make a disgusted face. Buster lays at your feet as you sit on the sofa.

“Wanna have a shag out here?”

“Harry, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Well, we can’t in there with Michael sleepin’. Surely you couldn’t keep quiet enough.” He smirks.

“I’m not fucking you out here.”

“How about in the kitchen then?”

“No.” His face falls into a pout. “Three babies. I have three babies in the house this weekend.” You sigh and rub your temples.

“S’not very nice. M’gonna be gone all day tomorrow.”

“I’m aware.”

“Are you mad?”

“No.”

“Really, because yeh seem mad.”

“I’m gonna get mad in like two seconds if you don’t stop.” You grab the remote and turn the TV on. Harry stays quiet while you both watch TV. Eventually you lean your head on his shoulder and he throws an arm around you. Buster sits on both of your laps and you mindlessly pet him.

“I gotta go to bed.” Harry says around nine. “I have to be up really early.”

“Okay, I’ll join you.” You yawn. “I’m tired too actually.” You look at Buster. “Time for bed baby.”

Buster goes right for his dog bed and plops down. You and Harry quietly do your things and get into bed. He spoons you for most of the night. Luckily Michael was at a point where he was sleeping through the night. He woke up around when Harry did. You groan when you hear him cry.

“I’ll take care of it, and then I’ll put him in the bed with you.” He whispers.

“He needs to be changed and fed.”

“I’ve got it.”

Harry grabs a fresh diaper and everything else and brings Michael into the guest room.

“Oh good, you took a massive dump too.” He sighs, but takes care of it. Michael giggles when he’s all cleaned up. “Yeah, yeah, Uncle Harry’s real sweet to you, huh?” He carries him into the kitchen to get him a bubby and he feeds him.

Harry waits for Michael to burp up before changing him into some fresh pj’s, and he brings him to the bed with you.

“Auntie?” You groan your response. “Michael’s here.” You mindlessly reach out for him and Harry lays him on your chest. He smiles as he watches you cradle him to your chest.

“Do you have time to take care of Buster?”

“Uhhh, yeah I can do that.”

Harry rushes around taking Buster outside and getting him fed. He’s a little less quiet while he gets his suit on. He kisses you before he leaves, and out the door he goes. An hour or so later you hear Buster whimpering from the other side of the door. You carry Michael on your hip and open the door.

“Need to go out again baby?” The dog yips and you sigh. You slide a pair of sneakers on and go out the door in your pj’s. “Shit, how am I supposed to shower?” You look at Michael as if he would have the answer. “I could stick you in a laundry basket I suppose. Would it be weird to take you in with me?”

It’s not like Michael would remember seeing you naked, but you still felt weird about it. You pick up the phone and call the person you knew you could.

“Be over in a few minutes.”

“Are you sure? Sarah’s not with you?”

“No, her and Rachel wanted to have a roomie night last night. I’m actually free today.”

“Great!”

Niall comes over and you open the door for him.

“Thank you so much, I’m desperate for a shower. I just changed Michael and he’s had a new bubby so he shouldn’t be hungry. Buster’s just been out too.”

“Y/N, it’s fine. Go take your shower, and relax”

“Thanks.” You sneeze loudly.

“Bless you.” He laughs.

“Thanks.” You sniffle.

“Feelin’ okay?”

“Honestly, no. I have a headache and my ears hurt. I think I’m getting my seasonal sinus infection.” You groan.

“Take a very long shower then, clear all that shit out.”

“Thank you, you’re a lifer saver.”

Niall takes Michael and sits on the sofa with him. Buster sits on the on cushion next to him. You get into the shower and stand under the warm water for a while, getting all your hair wet. You blow your nose as much as can, but you’re super congested. You get out of the shower, eventually, and brush your hair out, leaving it wet, something you rarely did. You put on Harry’s grey joggers and one of his over-sized sweatshirts. Actually, it looked normal on him, it was just over-sized on you. You throw on some fuzzy socks, and head out to the living room.

“Uh oh, wet hair, that’s not a good sign.”

“I don’t have the energy to dry it.”

“You sound even worse.” He frowns. “Are you sure it’s not a cold?”

“I know it’s not. It’s the beginning of a sinus infection, I can feel it.” You plop down and Buster moves to your lap. “You can put Michael in his bouncy you know? It’s pretty cute.”

Niall drags it over and puts him in. You both watch as he entertains himself.

“Thanks for helping out. Harry has two weddings today. I don’t know how I’m supposed to watch the both of them by myself now that I don’t feel good. But I guess people do it all the time.”

“Y/N, I told you I don’t have plans today, I can hang out and help.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s a nice day out.”

“When was the last time you and I just spent a day together? Besides, you need someone to help take care of you.”

“Do you wanna binge Stranger Things from the beginning?”

“God, yes.” You both giggle and he fires up the TV. “I’m gonna make yeh some tea.”

“Thank you.” You grab his hand and squeeze it. You smile at each other and then he goes into the kitchen.

You and Niall have a great day together. He helps you with Michael and Buster so you can rest. Your head was killing you, even after having taken some Tylenol. You both also enjoy your binge of your favorite show. Harry texts to check in a couple times, but you forget to answer.

“I’m gonna go put Michael down, could you take Buster out?”

“Yup, got a spare key f’me?”

“Mhm, in the bowl by the door.” He nods and you both go to complete your tasks. “He’s so good, falls right asleep.”

“Do yeh think your brother and Lily went to go make another?” He says with a cheeky grin.

“God, I don’t even want to think about that.” You laugh and pat Buster’s tummy as he lays at your feet.

You end up putting a pillow in Niall’s lap so you can lay down. He keeps a hand on your head and plays with your frizzy hair. There were only so many people in the world that you let see you like this. It had been so long since you and Niall had a proper cuddle, you missed it so much. You eventually drift off, but he doesn’t mind. It was a long day, and he was enjoying the continued binge of the show.

Harry walks in around 8:30PM. He was exhausted and already starting to take his clothes off. He stops short when he sees Niall, who has a finger pressed to his lips to signal to be quiet. Harry looks at him extremely confused.

“She’s not feelin’ well.” He whispers. Harry walks around to the sofa and doesn’t like what he sees. Niall’s hand in your hair and your face nestled into his stomach.

“What do you mean she’s not feelin’ well? Why didn’t either of you call me? She didn’t text me back all day.”

“What would callin’ yeh do? You were workin’.” He sighs. “She called me cause she needed a shower, and I didn’t have plans. When I got here she didn’t look great, and she got worse as the day went on so I stayed to help. Baby’s sleepin’, dog went to his bed on his own. Think she’s got a sinus infection. She gets a really bad one this time of year, she was due.”

“Right, well, I’ll take her to bed now…thanks.”

“You could be less of a prick you know?”

“I’m not!” He hushes himself. “I’m not bein’ a prick.”

“Yeah, ya are.”

“Look at her, she’s all cozied up to you.” He gestures.

“News flash, mate, not the first time her head’s been in my lap.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh my god, you’re impossible. What are you, cranky? Get her off of me if you’re so bent outta shape.”

Harry huffs and gets his arms under you. You cling to Niall’s shirt at first and then you loosen your grip. Harry cradles you to his chest and you whimper.

“Shh, just me, baby girl.” He coos. You barely wake up. “Stay there, I’ll be right back.” Niall nods as Harry carries you to bed. You groan as he tucks you in. He kisses your forehead and goes back out to Niall. “Alright, set this scene for me, will you?”

“She needed to take a shower, so she called me. She said she didn’t feel comfortable being naked in the shower with Michael. She came out lookin’ worse than she did, so I helped her out. She napped when the baby did so I took the dog out a few times. I helped her feed both of ‘em. She cuddled Michael for a bit while we watched TV and then she put him to bed.”

“And then her head ended up in your lap?”

“There was a pillow there. We’ve done it plenty of times, not recently, obviously. I’ve taken care of her plenty of times while she’s been sick, and she’s done the same for me. We’re comfortable with each other. I’ve been her friend for almost three years, Harry. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I should’ve been home with her today, not you.”

“You had to work.”

“I just don’t like that you’re her go to for every little thing.”

“You know, if Sarah had been here too you wouldn’t even have an issue.” He crosses his arms.

“Where is she anyways?”

“Roomie weekend. Her and Rach haven’t been spendin’ a lot of time together lately. We texted all day believe it or not.”

“And Y/N couldn’t text me back?”

“She was drowsy all day, and she had a terrible headache. If you hadn’t noticed all the lights are off.”

“I noticed.”

“You can be a grouch all you want, but I was a good friend today, to both of you. You could say thank you.”

“Thanks for cuddling with my girlfriend, mate, that’s a big help.” Niall pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I really can’t fuckin’ stand you sometimes. You’re jealous for no reason.”

“It’s hard to be pissed when I walk in and see the love of my life curled up with you!”

“Her head was in my lap! It’s not like my dick was pressed to her ass and we were spoonin’!”

“You might as well have been!”

“You two woke the baby up.” They both whip their heads to look at you.

When Harry put you to bed you had woken up and changed into just a t-shirt, you were sweating from the heavy clothes. Michael started crying right when you had fallen back asleep. You got him back to sleep, but you were pissed.

“Y/N, go put some clo-“

“Niall, thank you for all your help today, may I speak with Harry privately?”

“Yeah, lemme know how you’re feelin’ tomorrow, alright?”

“Mhm.”

He grabs his things and heads out. You glare at Harry. You weren’t sure where to start, so you don’t. You didn’t want to wake Michael up again, and you didn’t want Buster getting riled up.

“I’m going back to bed, please sleep on the sofa.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t feel well, and I’m so far beyond aggravated. I don’t want you near me right now.”

“I’m sleeping on our-“

“If you don’t want to sleep on the sofa then sleep in the guest room. I don’t really care where you sleep, just as long as it’s not with me. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” You turn on your heel and get back into bed.

Harry stood there and groaned. All he thought about all day was coming home to you. Now he was forced to sleep in his old bed, alone. The next morning you’re feeling a little better, but still congested. You knew you’d have to go to urgent care at some point for some antibiotics.

You get Michael out of the pack and play, and lay him on the bed to change him.

“There’s a happy boy.” You smile while he giggles.

Harry was just coming in with Buster when you come out with Michael.

“He’s, uh, fed…”

“Thank you.”

“When will Kyle and Lily be here?”

“Soon.”

“Okay.”

Harry leaves you alone until your brother comes to pick him up.

“How was he?”

“Perfect, as usual. I have a little cold, but I’m not contagious. Sinus thing I think.”

“Alright, we’ll keep an eye on him. Thanks again!”

They pack everything up and head out. You cross your arms and look at Harry. He looks at you.

“I don’t feel like I’m wrong.” He starts.

“No? Okay, present your case to me then.”

“You didn’t text me back all day, if I had known you didn’t feel well, I would’ve come home.”

“And leave those poor people without wedding photos?”

“I have a backup, I’m not an idiot.” He sighs. “No, instead you call your other boyfriend, sorry, your husband, to come over and help you.” You burst out laughing, you can’t help it, you were so angry. “This is funny?”

“It’s hilarious! Do you even listen to yourself? Who the fuck else was I going to call? Rachel or Sarah? Niall’s right across the street, he was here in two seconds.” You scoff. “Also, Rachel and Sarah are terrible with children, absolutely terrible. I wouldn’t trust either one of them with Michael. Niall, however, has been around Michael since he was born. I told him he could leave after I showered, but he insisted he stay to help. And I’m glad I let him because I didn’t feel well, I still don’t.”

“I’m sorry about that, but-“

“And then what do you do?” You ask, cutting him off. “You come home, already in a bad mood because you were probably tired, and instead of being grateful that your best friend came to help your sick your girlfriend take care of your nephew and puppy, you blew up at him! I don’t care if you don’t apologize to me, but you certainly owe Niall one.”

“My nephew?” His face softens.

“Harry for the love of god!” You feel like you want to rip your hair out. “Yes! Your nephew! He’s my nephew, he’s yours, he’s ours! You’re his fucking uncle now, don’t you think?!” Harry can’t help but smile. “Stop fucking smiling! I’m so mad at you! You get so jealous and worked up for no reason!”

“No reason! Y/N, your head was in his lap, you had your arms wrapped around him, and you face was pressed into his stomach! Totally comfortable!”

“You’re damn right I was comfortable! Niall and I used to cuddle all the fucking time!” His jaw drops. “That’s right. Never like spooning or anything, but that’s typically how we’d lay. We’ve taken care of each other a lot when the other’s been sick, and that’s usually what happens. And it’s not like my head was against his crotch, there was a fucking pillow there. Grow up, Harry.”

“Grow up? Grow up?!”

“Yeah! I am so sick of having this same fight with you! This is the last time I’m going to say this, I do not now, nor have I ever wanted to fuck Niall. He has not now, nor ever wanted to fuck with me. I do not plan on risking our entire fucking relationship to fuck your best friend.” He opens his mouth to speak and then stops himself. “Have I made myself clear?” He nods yes. “Good, because I swear to god if we fight about this again, I’m done.”

“What do you mean you’re done?”

“I mean I’m done. This is the stupidest fucking fight, and we’ve had it several times. I don’t appreciate you not trusting me, and I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate you not trusting him. So, if you find this to be worth risking our relationship over then you can just-“

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. You’re right, this is a stupid fight, and it’s not worth risking our relationship over.”

“So how do we move forward? I mean, clearly you have this like jealousy thing…I need to be able to interact with him the way that I do. I need to be able to laugh and whatever with him without worrying if it’s going to set you off.”

“I don’t know, honestly. I can’t help that I feel…ugh, how do I explain this? Um, remember when Julia made a pass at me?”

“Which time?” You scoff.

“When you walked in…and you said you didn’t anyone to think they could touch me like that. I feel the same way with you.”

“But Harry…Niall’s not into me like that. It’s platonic. I was also asleep, I didn’t know I had curled into him like that.”

“He was like playin’ with your hair and stuff.”

“And?”

“That’s super intimate!”

“It’s platonic! He was comforting me. I’ve played with his hair before too. We’re both touchy people, it’s how we show affection. I’m very affectionate with all my friends.”

“So you’re basically tellin’ me I just need to be cool with it.”

“No…but I don’t want you to think a touch or a smile means anything more than friendship between us. I mean, how many times do I need to remind you that I knew him before you? I have a whole history with him Harry.”

“I just didn’t think you two were that close because he never brought you out or around.”

“A lot of that was on me. He’d invite me to a lot of things, but I usually had plans with the girls, or I didn’t feel like going to a party where I’d only know him. He and I got into just hanging out one on one, and that worked for us.”

“And there was really never any moment between the two of you where you felt like you wanted to take it a step further?”

“Never, and I know he feels that way too. We’re just close.” You start sniffling as tears prick at your eyes. “You make me feel so guilty sometimes for loving him…and it’s not fair.”

“Please don’t cry.”

“I can’t help it.” You wipe your eyes. “I’m allowed to have friends, male friends.” You cry harder and Buster comes over to you. “When I was in high school, and even in college I had a lot of guy friends. And time and time again they would tell me they couldn’t be my friend anymore because their girlfriends didn’t trust me. I’m a very nice person, and I would never put someone in that position. I don’t know what’s so non-trusting about me, but it makes me feel like shit that my own boyfriend doesn’t even trust me.” He crosses the room and takes you in his arms.

“I do trust you.”

“Then it’s him you don’t trust.”

“I’ve known Niall a lot longer than you. He’s…a great guy, but I’ve I know what he’s capable of.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It was years ago, so it doesn’t matter. People change.”

“Harry.”

“There was a girl he dated in grad school and he cheated on her. She found out and broke up with him, obviously. I was no saint myself, but I knew I didn’t wanna be with one person. He shouldn’t have gotten into a relationship in the first place.”

“You can’t blame your own issues on something he did years ago.”

“I know.”

“So then why do you have these issues?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like you’re my girlfriend so you should come to me.”

“You were working!” You push him away.

“But if you had called me, then I could have told you to call him. At least I would’ve been in the know. You didn’t text me back all day. I walked in completely blindsided!”

“So I need to ask daddy permission in order to have my friends over, is that it?”

“Don’t be such a brat, that’s not what I meant.”

“Would you like to sleep in the guest room again tonight? Is that what you want?”

“Why, because I called you a brat?”

“No, because you’re acting like an asshole still.”

“Okay.” He nods.

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I’m actin’ like an asshole, you’re not wrong.”

“You know what?! I’m going to take the dog for a walk, a long walk. I suggest you go fix things with Niall. He’s pretty pissed.”

“How would you know?”

“I’ve been texting him all day. Wanna check my phone to make sure we haven’t been sexting or sending dirty pictures?” You put the leash on Buster and slip your sneakers on.

Harry takes a few deep breaths before going across the street. He keys right into Niall’s apartment. Him and Sarah were cuddled up on the couch.

“Jesus, Harry.” He says. “Glad we weren’t naked.”

“Sarah can I speak with Niall privately?”

“Whatever you have to say to him you can say in front of me.” She crosses her arms and Niall smirks.

“Great, so you’re mad at me too?”

“Harry, listen, I felt the same way you did months ago, remember? Y/N and Niall have a very special bond. There’s no need to be jealous or threatened.”

“I’m not threatened.”

“Then what’s your problem?” Harry’s jaw tenses.

“Babe, maybe you should go hang in my room for a bit.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, he and I need to talk one on one.”

“Alright, but if I hear yelling I’m coming out.” She gets up and goes into Niall’s bedroom. Niall gestures for Harry to sit and he does.

“I’m sorry for flippin’ out on you. I know neither of you would do anything to hurt me, I don’t know why I get like this.”

“Look, after what I did to…Molly…I would never dare do it again. I’m close with Y/N and I don’t want you messin’ that up. I really cherish the friendship I have with her. It was bad enough when Sarah made things difficult, I don’t need you makin’ it worse. You know yesterday was the first time she and I hung out alone in months. Months, Harry. That’s not right. Sarah makes time to hang out with her friends, why can’t we?”

“So if Sarah had a really close guy friend, you wouldn’t even be a little suspicious?”

“How could I be? Especially if she had a friendship before we even met. If someone new came into her life and she all of a sudden was giving all her free time to them, then okay, I’d be suspicious. It’s just me, you know me.”

“She told me if we fought over this again then she’d be done with me…” Harry starts to tear up. “She’s really mad.”

“Do you blame her? Put it to rest. You have nothin’ to worry about when it comes to the two of us. At the end of the day, I’m sure it was you who she wanted to be curled up with and comforted by. I wasn’t steppin’ in as her boyfriend for the day either. I’m her friend and I was there for her, that’s it.”

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not gonna risk losin’ her over this, so I just need to get over myself.”

“Just don’t jump to the worst conclusion. I have nothin’ but the purest intentions.” Harry runs a hand through his hair.

“She made me sleep in the guest room last night.”

“Good, yeh didn’t deserve to sleep next to her.” He nudges him.

“I really am sorry. I was being ungrateful. I’m happy you’re right across the street, it’s the whole reason we moved there. She wanted to be closer to you. Probably for situations like yesterday.” He sighs. “I’ve not been a good friend.”

“You know what we need. We need a boy’s weekend. The weather’s gettin’ nicer. You, me, and Lou should all go campin’ like old times.”

“Man…that actually sounds like a good idea.”

“We could go memorial day weekend. Then the girls could get together too so no one would be alone.”

“I’ll run it by Y/N, send something in the group chat to see what Lou thinks. He could probably use the weekend away too.”

The two stand up and hug.

“Awwwww.” Sarah says and they look at each other.

“Were you listenin’ the entire time?” Niall asks.

“I couldn’t help it! I didn’t know if you two were gonna try to kill each other.” She smiles. “Group hug?”

“Jesus, c’mere.” Harry opens an arm up for her.

“You better go fix things with Y/N.”

“M’gonna. She should be back from walkin’ the dog now anyways.”

You were sitting on the sofa with Buster when Harry got back. He approaches you slowly.

“Um, hi.”

“Hello.”

“I apologized to Niall.”

“And did you mean it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“I feel really bad for makin’ you so up set. I’m-“

“Harry, is it all done now? Are we done with this entire subject?”

“Yes.” He sighs.

“Okay, then we’re good.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He comes to sit next to you.

“You sound a lot better.”

“I took a decongestant.” You both pet the puppy. “I feel a lot better actually.” You start blushing.

“That’s good.”

“Like, a lot better.” You put Buster on the floor and crawl into his lap. You nuzzle your nose against his neck.

“Wanna make up?” You smile against him and start kissing his neck. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You bite down on his skin harshly and suck. “Ah, shit.” He holds you close to him as you suck harder. You come off him and rub your thumb over the mark.

“I don’t wanna fuck in front of the dog, bring me to the bedroom.”

Harry picks you up and brings you to the room. Buster makes his way to his dog bed. Harry lays you down, and looks at you. You caress his face.

“What is it?”

“I just…can’t believe I was doin’ somethin’ that was enough to make you leave me.” He starts to tear up and you sit up on your knees to pull his head to your chest.

“I should not have said that. I’m sorry, I won’t ever say something like that again. I just hate that we kept having the same fight, I was so frustrated. I love you so much, Harry. I’ll never leave you.” You looks up at you with red and puffy eyes.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

He kisses you, cupping your face in his hands. You tug at him as you lay back. One of his hands moves to knead of your breasts.

“Can we just be sweet on each other tonight? I missed yeh so much last night, I wanna be as close as possible.”

“Whatever you wanna do, doll.”

You strip each other of your clothes. Harry lays down all the way and lays your body on top of his. He licks at your core while you pump him, rubbing your thumb over his slit. You wrap your lips around him just as his tongue goes up inside you. The groan from your throat causes him to buck his hips up. His tongue swirls all around you and laps up at your wetness.

“Hold on.” He says. “I don’t wanna come yet.” You pop off him and lay down next to him.

“What do you wanna do now? That was feeling really good.”

“I wanna just slip inside you and stay there.”

“Okay.”

Harry hovers over you, and slips inside. You both moan at the contact. He doesn’t move, he just stays there. You stick your tongue out slightly and he meets it with his. You wrap your legs around him as the kiss deepens. He nips at your jaw and works his way to your neck.

“Ah.” One of your hands grips at his hair, and the other finds one of his hands so you can intertwine your fingers. He licks over the spot the spot he’s sucking on to soothe it, and moves onto another area of your neck.

He was kissing all over you and you loved it. His free hand moves to rub your slit. He starts with soft, slow circles. He looks at you and sees your lips are parted and your eyes are scrunched up. His thumb keeps working your clit, agonizingly slow.

“Harry.” You moan. You start tightening around him. He grits his teeth, but he keeps doing what he’s doing. “That feels so good.”

“You’re so wet.” He kisses on your collar bone and nips at the skin.

You tighten around him again as he rubs you just right. Your toes start to curl and you clench around him the tightest you have.

“Harry, ah, I’m gonna come.” You start thrashing underneath him, but he holds you in place. You squeeze the hand of his that you’re holding.

He feels you flutter and pulsate around him, and his cock throbs and twitches inside you.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He groans.

You both moan loudly as you come at the same time.

“God, that felt so good.” You say pushing his hair out of his face.

“I didn’t mean to come, I’m sorry. I could just really feel all of you coming it was incredible.” He kisses you and pulls out.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Do that thing I like…”

He smirks at you and sticks his middle and forefinger inside you before his come can spill out. Usually he pulls out right away and sticks them right in your mouth, but he starts pumping in and out of you.

“What, what are you doing?” You start panting.

“You didn’t really think we were done did you?”

“Fuck.” Your head rolls back into your pills as he pumps faster. “Flip me over, do it from behind.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. You two were making a mess, but neither of you cared. He fingers you from behind and it feels amazing.

“Want your cock again Harry, please, need it so bad.” He pumps himself a few times, and pulls his fingers out. You look at him over your shoulder and open your mouth.

“Fuck.” He says as you suck on his fingers. “Love it when you do that.” You lick your lips when he takes his fingers away.

“Put it in, fuck me up.”

His eyes grow wild. He lines you up with his tip and he thrusts inside. He hits bottom right away.

“God, that’s it.” You moan. “Fuck me, Harry.”

He pulls in and out harder and faster. You clutch at the blankets. His fingers press brusies into your hips. You loved how you two could go from having such a sweet, intimate moment to just be absolutely rough with each other. You push back against him and he groans. He gives your bum a harsh smack and your back arches.

Harry reaches around to grab your throat and pulls you back to him, back flush with his chest. Your head rests on his shoulder, and he uses his other hand to rub your clit while he rocks in and out of you. He keeps a firm grip on your throat. The lack of oxygen to your brain just adding to the intensity of the feeling he was giving your throbbing center. He feels you start to tighten around him again.

You gasp as you come and he loosens his grip on you so you can get some air. His thrusts slow and he kisses your temple. You lean back down on your elbows as he fucks into you even harder.

“Fill me up again, please.”

“Want me to come?”

“Yes, want you to feel so good.”

You tighten around him and he loses it, filling you up for the second time tonight. He collapses next to you after he pulls out.

“Love you so fuckin’ much.” He yanks you onto his chest.

“Love you too.” You kiss him tenderly.

“I’m sorry I’m such an idiot. I’d never do somethin’ to jeopardize all this again.”

“Harry, it’s okay. Please, I don’t want you to start worrying about be going anywhere. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, no one else I’d rather be with.”

“Sweet girl.” He says, moving some hair out of your face. “I wish I could’ve been with you and the baby more this weekend.”

“Me too.”

“I would’ve taken such good care of you too. I would’ve made that noodle soup you like, and wrapped you up in a blanket, and just cuddled you all day.”

“Mm, that sounds really nice.” You nuzzle against him. “You always make things so cozy, Harry.”

His arms tighten around you, and suddenly you just don’t care about anything bad that happened. You two could get through anything as long as you kept trying. The good with Harry always outweighed the bad. Everything was worth it when you got to these moments. When he was just hold you and caress you. A proper cuddle with Niall was nice, but nothing was better than being wrapped in Harry’s strong, tattooed arms.

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #harry styles angst fic #i feel like i wrote this all day #its like 8k my bad yall #come hang in my inbox!

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stuckonjbbarnes · 5 years ago

Text

Puppy Love {Part 2}

Pairing: Peter Parker x OC {Attempt #2} Prompt: Ma’am, is this your dog? Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: Not being very cash money.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Peter Parker?!” Jazzy calls out, turning the corner in front of Grand Central and immediately spots dog-Loki with a teenager.

“Oh! Yeah! Hi!” He calls back, approaching with a big smile.

The kid is fidgety as hell and trying to balance a makeshift rope leash and coffee cup in one hand and a stack of novels in the other. Jasmine takes the last few steps and helps him untangle the rope from the cup with a smile. He returns the grin and offers his thanks.

“I’m glad you could meet! I was on my way when I saw my favorite series in the bookstore window and usually I’m more into comics but this lady really knows how to write fantasy and– sorry. Peter.” He cuts off, gesturing to himself. “You must be Jasmine.”

“No worries, kid.” Her smile grows when she recognizes the cover art of the book stack as her own. “You really like those books?”

“Huh?! Are you kidding The Glass Court is amazing. Jazzy C. Larke is an icon. My girlfriend–uh friend, MJ, is a HUGE fan of hers. So I thought I’d read them and–”

“Have something to talk about when you get courage to actually ask her out?” Jazzy smiles at his meek nod. “Well this certainly seems like fate, though I’m sure some other power is at work.”

Dog-Loki impatiently shifts from one paw to the other, while people rush past. Peter’s face twists into confusion when Jasmine holds out her hand and gestures to shake it. When he finally takes her hand, she knows exactly what she has to do.

“Jazzy C. Larke at your service. How about we get your girl, huh, Peter? I’m a sucker for romance.”

“I’m a stranger.”

“So am I. But if you and your friend are fans, then I insist that the two of you come to the launch party tonight.”

“For The Thorn Heir?! I didn’t think that was out for another 4 months.”

“Between you and me, I’ve been finishing edits as we speak. But think of it less as a reveal and more like a book club for fancy-pants adults. I have to read the first chapter and answer a Q&A...it’s all very relaxed.”

“We couldn’t.”

“I’ll be disappointed if you won’t.” She knows she’s got him from the furrowing of his brows.

“You’re sure?”

“I can leave your names on the list. You have my number, just think about it.” Turning from Peter, Jazzy gives dog-Loki a scolding look.“Now. You and I are going to have a long talk when we get home–

“Hey kid! Tony’s looking everywhere for you, says you disappeared after lunch!” Flipping her head to the voice, she spots the guy from yesterday, Scott running towards them. “Oh Jasmine, hi! Peter, you know Jasmine?”

“Jazzy, please. Jasmine makes me sound like some knock-off Disney Princess.”

“I just met her, Mr. Lang. I was bringing her, her dog! But I gotta get back to Mr. Stark. Thanks again for everything, so nice meeting you!” He gestures to Loki and then gives a brief wave goodbye, before vanishing around a corner.

“Bring those books and I’ll sign them!” She calls after him, ever the queen of forgetting to say things.

“Wait...isn’t that the dog you said you didn’t have?” Scott frowns down at her.

“This isn’t what it looks like.” Taking Loki’s makeshift leash, Jazzy turns to make her escape but she’s not so lucky as Scott keeps up her pace.

“What should it look like?” He stage-whispers, as they head down the street.

“Like...like someone playing a cruel joke.”

“If it’s your dog that’s okay. You didn’t have to go to that much trouble to get rid of him.” Jasmine tenses at the way Scott is so understanding of something that isn’t even true.

“I...he’s not mine. He just seems to show up.”

“Want me to drop him back off at the pound? I’ll make sure they put him in maximum security. Been there done that.” He jokes and Jazzy cracks a grin.

“That’s okay. I think I’ll take him home this time.”

She hardly notices that they’ve made it back to her neighborhood and stops short at her stoop. Scott looks at her like he wants to say something and so she pauses for a minute, earning a weird whine from dog-Loki.

“Uh, what are you– are you busy tonight?” He finally asks and her heart does a weird flip.

“I have a thing... downtown.”

“Oh yeah, nevermind. Stupid question, everyone in New York is always busy. City that never sleeps and all that.”

She’s about to turn and enter the apartment building when dog-Loki nudges her. With a scowl and a glare, she turns back plastering on an easy smile.

“Do you wanna go? It’s just a book thing. It’s going to be really boring and I’m sure you’ve got something better to do–

“I’d love to.”

“–it’s a bunch of people preying on the movie rights of–what?”

“I said I’d love to.” He’s calm and suddenly Jazzy feels nervous.

“O-okay.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you there?” Scott smiles encouragingly.

“8pm. Rizzoli Bookstore, don’t be late.” Jazzy finds her confidence again and sees humor sparkling in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Is it formal?”

“Business Casual.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You’ll figure it out.” She calls over her shoulder, leaving him to the city streets.

When she enters the apartment Loki glimmers into his typical form, wearing all black. Jasmine sets her bag on the chair with a thump and uncorks a bottle of moscato from the fridge, drinking straight from the bottle. Leaning against the kitchen island, he watches Jazzy carefully, a full smirk gracing his lips.

“Not a word.” She silences him, taking another swig.

“It’s not exactly the best place for a date but–

“I said not a WORD.”

“Listen, I didn’t realize that the other midgardian had a potential prospect.”

“That other midgardian was a kid! He’s probably like 18, Loki!”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“It means that I’m over a decade older than him and that is not okay.” She runs her hand through her hair and paces a bit.

“I’ll do better next time.”

“NO. No next time!”

“Don’t you have a date to prepare for?” Loki asks, pushing himself off of the island and smoothing a wrinkle from his coat.

“Don’t you have a brother to torment?”

“You love me and yes, yes I do.”

“I hate–” Before she can finish her sentence Loki is gone.

Jazzy gives herself all of 10 minutes to be disappointed that Scott didn’t show up. Because in exactly 10 minutes she had to read the first chapter of the final book in a series she’d spent most of her twenties working on. Looking at the small crowd, she flashes Peter a thumbs up and he nearly smacks MJ trying to get her to notice. The girl is looking everywhere but at Peter and the clear signs of a budding relationship make Jazzy melt.

It isn’t until after she’s read the chapter and responded to a few questions, that the quote-unquote cocktail party begins. Jazzy makes her way past the various publishers and show execs to find her two guests. She lets Peter make the introduction, is pleasantly surprised when both present their copies for her to sign and spends her time avoiding her real responsibilities. She almost doesn’t notice Scott, as he slips through the entrance looking flustered.

“You made it.” She raises her plastic cup of juice in hello.

“Yeah sorry. I got distracted and then I saw the time and–

“No worries.” She tilts her lips in what she hopes looks like a smile and not a grimace. “...is that an ant on your collar?”

“Oh!” He quickly brushes it off, embarrassment staining his cheeks. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“What should it look like?” She stage-whispers and he smiles in relief.

“Jazzy, what do you think Gabriele would do if Sam went back in time…” She quickly turns to MJ, leaving Scott with Peter.

“So, this is something…” Scott mumbles, sipping from his cup of punch.

“What you don’t like books?” Peter asks, while MJ gushes over the chapter with Jazzy.

“I like reading. I’m not particularly into fru-fru fantasy romance. It’s a cop out.”

“What?” Jazzy asks tuning into their conversation.

“Fantasy-romance. It’s easy and a little lazy? Is that the word? I’m sure these books are decent, if not over the top.”

“I think you should leave.” She says voice soft amongst the noise of the room.

“What?”

“I want you to go.” Jazzy repeats and then makes her way into the crowd plastering on what she hoped was a convincing smile.

“Dude. She’s the author...she wrote this entire series and it’s damn good.” MJ’s voice drifts behind Jazzy and she gets a small glimmer of joy from the girl’s praise.

“No offense but how are you going to show up late and then insult the girl’s work?” Peter gives the man a stern look, placing his hand on his shoulder. “That’s not very cash money of you, Mr. Lang.”

“Not very cash money at all.” MJ agrees. “You might want to get out while you can.”

“Is she–did she just–” Scott stutters as Peter leads him to the door. “Was I just threatened by an angry terrier?”

“Her bite is worse than her bark.” Peter agrees as the man leaves.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Permanent Taglist: @valkyriesryde @buckysmischief @murdermornings @donnaintx @kitkatd7 @merigoldcaroline @thosekidswhohuntmonsters @firefly-in-darkness @buckys-other-punk @mrsbanreswillseeyou @what-just-happened-bro @starspangledseb @smilexcaptainx @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

#scott lang x oc #peter parker x mj #Loki Laufeyson #marvel au #marvel fan fiction

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that-yandere-life · 5 years ago

Note

Steve rogers or peter parker with a kidnapped darling who's more upset about the fact she can't feed the stray dogs outside of her house? Ily

[Why not both? ;3]

Steve Rogers-

When Steve kidnapped you, he knew there would be some adjustment but you transitioned into that life rather easily.

However as of the past couple of months or so you seem really down about not being able to go outside, and just in general.

Of course Steve tries everything to cheer you up, buying you candy, flowers, stuff for your various hobbies.

But nothing seemed to pick you up out of the funk you were in, causing him to grow more and more concerned about you.

Then one morning he woke up and heard you giggling, and crying? That didn’t seem right to him, so he snuck out quietly as to not alert you.

There he came upon a sight that broke his heart into pieces, you were waving to a stray dog that was just outside the window staring longingly at you, pawing at the glass.

While you were happy, your tears told him that you were upset at not being able to love and help this poor animal.

Right then and there he made a plan to bring back the light behind your eyes, and maybe give you both some much needed companionship.

After you went to sleep that night he went to the store, picking up everything and anything one might need for a dog.

Asking the clerks about what food would be the best for transitioning a stray into a house pet, discovering what was the most popular treat for that size of dog, getting a matching leash, collar, and harness since it was bad to walk dogs by their necks.

Picking out toys that hopefully the dog would not only love, but that you would enjoy using to play with them.

There were an array of name tags to choose from but he wanted you to have the honor of naming your friend.

The last thing he purchased was shampoo, as the poor thing would likely be dirty from its time on the streets alone.

A call to the vet would have to happen tomorrow after he gave you the big reveal, wanting to make sure to get the animal vaccinated and checked over for injuries.

Somehow he managed to do everything without you realizing that he was gone, even though now it was nearly dawn.

Waiting outside with a towel he watched the rising sun, hoping the dog would come by like it did yesterday.

Sure enough there it was, a little nervous of him at first but the dog quickly warmed up to him after a few treats.

Bundling the puppy up in the towel he took him inside, starting to give him a bath the best he could.

Although the dog had other plans, that definitely did not include staying in the bathtub and be washed.

Hearing the commotion from your bedroom it roused you from your slumber, causing you to sit up curiously.

Pushing back the covers you decide to investigate what is going on in the bathroom, opening the door to a huge shock.

There sat the pup you had been watching for the last few months unable to touch or feed them but desperately wanting to.

Also in front of him was a very wet and soapy Steve who donned a deer in the headlights look at being caught.

“Look what you did, you woke up your mommy!”

Eyes growing wide as you let those words sink in, immediately you had pounced on him both of you flying into the half filled bathtub, sending water into the air.

The pup taking this as an opportunity to not finish his bath, sprinting off sopping wet into the house jumping on all the furniture.

“Do you really mean it? He is ours?”

“With all of my heart, never again will you have to feel helpless for them. Plus I grew kind of fond of the little troublemaker in our time together this morning.”

Peter Parker-

After Peter kidnapped you, you were uncharacteristically depressed, despite telling him it wasn’t really the fact that he took you.

It confused him, until one night he heard you sniffling and crying yourself to sleep mumbling something about he would never know what happened to you.

The next morning he decided to ask you what it was that you meant by that, not expecting that you would have a full on breakdown at the kitchen table.

Telling him all about a dog who lived in the alleyway near your apartment complex, how you couldn’t have dogs but you always fed him.

You even gave him a name, since he had no collar and his fur looked weathered so it was clear he was a stray.

That was the only thing that you regretted about being kidnapped, not being able to care for the animal anymore.

Holding you close to him, Peter knew he had to do something to make you smile again if it was the last thing he did.

While he loved dogs he knew nothing about their care, since he had never been able to have one of his own.

So during the day he started doing research on his phone, seeing what all it entailed to have a dog.

It was going to be expensive and time consuming but it was worth it to make you happy living there with him.

While doing this and trying to keep it from you what he was doing, he asked you to describe the dog in detail.

Going through it he learned it was a mutt looking dog, with shaggy white fur that had long turned grey and matted in some places.

The name you had given to him was Toby, after one of your favorite movies as a child called Labyrinth.

Behind your back he set up a secret vet appointment for the next day, giving them the same description you did.

Luckily part of the vet’s office was dedicated to grooming so he in turn made an appointment for that right after.

Along the way to your old apartment the next day, he stopped to pick up what necessities you would need.

Finding the dog easily, however it was very afraid of him, baring his teeth and growling angrily.

Peter started to wonder if this was a good idea, but then he tried calling him by the name Toby completely changing it’s demeanor at the sound.

After that it only took a little coaxing to get him to come to Peter, who placed a harness and leash on the dog before starting to lead him towards the vet.

A clean check up, and grooming session later he checked his watch noticing it was around the time you took a nap.

Smiling to himself, he managed to get Toby back to the house before you woke up, sneaking in the front door.

Placing a bright red ribbon around the pups neck he tried to wait until you got up on your own accord.

Toby on the other hand had a different plan, able to smell that you were in the vicinity taking off, yanking himself out of Peter’s grasp.

Rushing to the bedroom door pushing it open before jumping on the bed, and all over you, startling you awake.

As you focused you realized that you weren’t dreaming, Toby was right there looking better than he ever had before.

“Uh surprise darling?”

Peter is shocked at how fast you fly into his embrace kissing him all over his face, causing him to blush, Toby circling excitedly around you both.

“Thank you so much, I can’t believe you brought him home to me!”

“Welcome home, both of you, finally in the place you both belong.”

[Thank you so much for this really really adorable idea! I hope that I did it justice and that you enjoy it! It was so much fun, and really cute to write out!

#yandere marvel #marvel yandere #steve rogers x reader #peter parker x reader #yandere steve rogers #yandere peter parker #boilingbrulee

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demonprosecutor · 4 years ago

Text

YOU REALIZE THAT HANDSOME MEN ARE THE TALK OF THE TOWN

the sheets smelled of lavender with the underlying hint of sweat, something unfamiliar and reminded you that you were far away from home, which was wasting away in the revelry of satyr-like monstrosities. the lack of warmth behind you was enough hint that zagreus was long gone from his post, the indented area cool to the touch.

in spite of the previous day’s... excitement, you felt incredibly well-rested even with the troublesome aches that came from riding myroclus without his saddle pad. hair clung to your cheek, eyes blearily blinking to take in the contents of the unremarkable room that you found refuge at. the travel pack was dumped onto the wooden table near the center of the room, animal furred rugs adorning the floors, and the window was scantly opened to allow sunlight within - brightening the insides in a manner that made it feel homely for the wayward traveller.

stygius was propped at the corner, almost careless in the way it was left, and you stare at it hard. you had been meaning to inquire zagreus about the weapon, about its origins. after wielding it briefly yesterday against anura, it was unnerving. alive almost. filled with a battle-hunger that you knew that you would not be able to sate. (whispering about ichor and ancient cyclopean hands crafting it and titan-flesh cleaved like flayed meat)

perhaps these were the moments where curiousity such as yours was not wise and you tear your gaze from the weapon meant for more than war (for desolation, for abject violence). a shudder marches like the myrmidon army, down your spine, unrelenting. it was time to turn thoughts towards more pleasant things.

you stretch, arching your spine and popping joints with a satisfaction of a well-fed feline, walking towards the door to open it. a bit of fresh air wouldn’t hurt anyone, you reasoned internally, only to find zagreus on the other side - poised to knock and awkwardly balancing plates of food and cups of wine, looking too much like a first-day servant in the palace of a king.

“oh! you woke up.” he says, shouldering his way in when you move to the side to allow him in. there’s a hint of disappointment in his voice that makes the arch of your brow go even higher than usual whenever zagreus was involved in a sentence.

“you sound...” the door clicks close, as you gesture vaguely. “disappointed.” the prince lays the plates and cups without spilling a drop, something that must’ve been noteworthy considering the way he softly cheered and grinned.

zagreus turns to you, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his head. “i was looking to get you breakfast. in bed.” the meal was... strangely extravagant. a hot stew with meat bobbing inside the broth, steaming bread and wine. this would be more appropriate to call lunch or dinner.

“this... is breakfast?” you ask, voice pitched uncertainly. how chthonic gods ate in the underworld was beyond you, but this meal seemed to be... pricy. that’s when the strangeness of the morning hits you, you rush over to the travel pack and open the significantly-lighter pouch before looking up at zagreus with accusation brimming your gaze, hissing. “you took money?”

“erm. yeah. it was just laid out there and i thought it was something that the both of us could use.” he looked genuinely confused by your ire, the breakfast and nice gesture left forgotten. “it wasn’t even that bad! just 2 dekadrachm for two meals and wine!”

you white-knuckle the strings to the pouch, hard enough that it creaked underneath your hands. “you got swindled, zagreus. two dekadrachm for that? i could’ve made that myself and in better quality!” the pouch now held drachmas, and obols. he had just spent the equivalent of twenty drachmae. you feel like a bull with the way your breathing goes heavy. “we’re going to talk to them.” zagreus was still two heads taller, yet in your fury, he looked smaller. you poke his chest, “and we are getting that dekadrachm or die trying.”

he looks crestfallen with the reaction given - completely opposite of what he had intended. “of course, let’s get that money back.” and as always you feel slightly bad.

hesitation pauses your actions, reaching out to lay a gentle hand on his arm before he turns, “look. i appreciate the gesture, ok? this was...” the words float around your mind, plucking it like magic. “-- sweet. but we have to save money now. we don’t have access to all of the same amenities as before.”

zagreus still doesn’t manage to meet your gaze, nodding slightly, taking the plates in the same silly manner as when he entered before the both of you leave the room.

the town was quaint enough, dirt roads flattened by the hooves of mules and the feet of men, a district for shrines of the gods, and a whole avenue for food and shops. zagreus leads you towards an innocuous restaurant, one with the seediest little man you’ve ever seen. oh zagreus.

the man rubs his hands together villainously, upper lip sparse with facial hair and receding hairline emphasizing the shine of his baldness. “hello there, traveller, have you come back for more?” he raises his knives in ready for the next order.

zagreus grimaces, setting the wine and plates down onto the table nearest to the chef. “not quite. my friend has something to say to you.”

the chef blinks, registers the food before levelling his smarmy gaze onto you, as if realizing you were there for the first time. sneering once the realization came that you couldn’t be duped as easily as the poor prince. “what is it.” he sets the knives down, and crosses his arms, lined with muscle and looking too much like he could snap you in half. however, you are reassured by the presence of zagreus who was definitely a million times stronger.

you gesture to the food aggressively - “two dekadrachm for that?” it’s difficult to not let accusation flood tone, but the two of you had a particularly stressful day yesterday and felt entitled to the bit of snappishness that came along with hunger and exhaustion. the chef, understandably so, was offended by the tone of voice, by the sheer aggressiveness of tone, and the status of occupation that was easily seen by the state of your clothing. it was clear, from first glance, that you were a servant. a servant for a goddess, but a servant nonetheless.

he sneers at you, smarmy eyes and demeanour completely different in comparison with how he spoke with zagreus. it takes you aback slightly (even if its something that you’re well-aware about, lady persephone and zagreus had always treated you as an equal...) the chef gives you a once-over that makes both you and zagreus bristle. “tch. what do you know about quality? you’re a mere servant, probably content to eat food off of the ground like a stray dog.” he spits on the ground, a sign of dishonour that makes your hands clench and brows knit together.

how rude. does he think you went into service like this because you wanted to? partly, yes, you wanted to thank the goddess for her willingness to allow you into her fold. but a lone, traumatized individual fresh from the horrors of desecration and war -- you were a lamb ripe for the picking. it was necessity.

hot shame curdles in your chest, tears pricking your eyes. zagreus notices your distress, the way your shoulders curled slightly forward as if to protect yourself, and its almost boyish the way he plucks at the back of your chiton. you have half a mind to allow him to go off on the chef, but you stop yourself - you cannot always rely on the prince to fight your battles.

so you swallow the bile down and straighten, zagreus’ knuckles bumping against the curve of your back. “i may not know much as a servant, but i do know my way around food. how would your customers feel if they figured out that you’ve been stinting them on the meat? that you use fats to thicken your stew to waste less ingredients? or that you’ve been swindling them for far too much money? servants are not good at many things, but they are good at gossip.”

your little tirade was loud enough to garner the attention of potential customers who look at the restaurant and the food that had been laid out for view pleasure with a grimace before swerving and moving away to other restaurants. the chef, of course, notices this, panic evident on his features, shushing you quickly.

the speed that it took the other to fold surprised the both of you, even more so with the way he tossed the dekadrachm onto the ground for you to pick up, plumes of snow tossed in the air by the action. zagreus looked rightly mad with the careless way the coin was given back, teeth gritted and body posture leaning forward, but you got what you came for and that was enough.

cheerfully, you hook arms with him and with no small amount of effort, yank him away before starting a morning brawl with the wrong person. “what the---- i was going to give him a piece of my mind!” there’s a brief moment of struggle before he acquiesces with the stern look levelled at him, not bothering to unwind his arm from yours. too much like a guard dog barely leashed. “you shouldn’t let people walk all over you like that.” crest-fallen, sad, indignant on your behalf, which was flattering, but.... you round the corner, nose lured by the smell of baked bread and cheese brought to you by the gentle winter breeze, something that had your mouth watering.

even if stew was something nice, winter had always begged for baked bread and it was a good staple to have on journeys. “oh shush. enough of that business.” you say dismissively, coins jingling in your pouch, as you stop before the quaint bakery.

the main baker was a dark-skinned woman, dark eyes gleaming like tilled earth and smile reminiscent of the snow. her hair, voluminous and curled, was held back with two strips of faded-green cloth that characterized the average grecian woman’s hair adornments. “hiya! how can i help you both?”

you lean in, peering at her exquisitely-made bread and pastries, a block of cheese on a clay tablet nearby. zagreus mirrors you, as you rub your chin in careful consideration. “your bread looks so... well-made.” you praise, mouth watering once more. “crispy, fresh, and warm -- family recipe?”

the woman laughs, a jovial sound that makes you flush slightly. “you got that right! passed down for generations and no, i’m not going to give it up just cuz a pretty face asked me to.” you think she was talking to zagreus who had moved further down the display to eye one of the pastry makers make their desserts, but she chuckle-snorts at you. “not him, was talking about you.”

oh. you stare wide-eyed, straightening and blushing hot enough that you couldn’t feel the cold of demeter’s winter settling on your unfortunately-unprepared self. “oh. i...” the words leave you easily, flapping your hands as subtly as you could. happiness? fluster? who knew. “erm, thank you.” the baker’s smile warms as she peruses her wares with a hint of lord hermes-esque mischief. zagreus notes this, the way your face warms in a way that is starkly different from the heat that comes from the chill of winter, lips spreading wide in a smile. your gazes meet and he wiggles his brow impishly, prompting a look from you. he has the audacity to laugh out loud, laurels around his head flickering quickly before they fade back to a charcoal-black of inactivity.

“here you go!” the baker prompts your attention, holding out a clay plate filled with bowls. “i snuck you in something extra, seems like your friend there is someone who tends to eat a lot, on the house!” you blink owlishly at the plate, even moreso when she grabs your bag and carefully wraps the bread, cheese and tarts to be used for travel.

“this is too much,” you say weakly, attempting to deposit the proper amount that would fit her services. she looks at the pieces in her hands, picking out 3 drachmae before pushing the rest back into yours.

“it’s alright. like i said: on the house!” she exchanges a warm smile with you before turning her attentions to other customers. you stare after her, starstruck - well, at least until zagreus loops his arm with yours, chuckling quietly.

“it appears you have the wiles of lady aphrodite, my friend.”

that has you flushing even harder, swatting his arm with a hand, “quiet, i was merely... taken aback. that’s never happened to me before.” there’s a sense of giddiness in your chest. of course, you have never had... interest directed at you, so suddenly having it was... flattering! (if a better word could be found...) your eyes flicker about, spying the coy glances that passerbys tossed zagreus, men and women alike, eyeing him with an interest that he seemed oblivious to. a smile graces itself on your features, craning your neck to whisper, “and besides - i’m not the only one with the wiles of lady aphrodite. it seems that you have fans.”

as if for the first time, zagreus lifts his head and looks around, finally noticing the looks and the stares. a faint pink tinged the pallour of his cheeks. “oh.” the smallness of the word makes you snicker, and the way he waves almost shyly to a group of men and women, nearly has you cackling. “stop that! this is... new to me. this interest.”

you both are nearing town square, heading towards the shops that boasted more travel-appropriate items. you hoped that you could trade some of your nicer chitons for weapons and travel-clothing. but that wasn’t at the forefront of your mind. “wait, so you’re telling me this interest...” you gesture at the people doing double-takes at zagreus, brow arched, “is a new thing?”

zagreus shrugs lightly, “i mean: i guess i had people interested in me, and i them, but... you know, majority of people i interacted with were either my cousins, assholes or not a viable romantic interest.”

well, the cousins part made sense, he was related to the olympians, but the other two had your interest piqued. “i see. well, who was your first interest?” you had arrived at the avenue with all the shops, bustling with patrons and exploding with colour in spite of the temperature. various shop-owners displayed their jewelry and pots proudly, haggling with customers and counting drachmae with greedy fingers.

the prince ducks his head, avoiding a low-hanging banner, face contorted as if not sure he was willing to reveal his secret or not. you’ve learned to be patient with him because you knew that he was comfortable with you and that he usually needed to work up the courage to talk about personal things such as this. (not that love or crushes was ever a topic you had tread upon.) “My first interest was... achilles.”

you think you misheard, nearly stumbling over a loose stone, looking at him in confusion. “achilles as in... ‘fought in the war at troy’ achilles? theeeeee.... ‘ended a whole war because his philtatos died’ achilles? that achilles?” zagreus nods at all of that, as you absent-mindedly go to the nearest clothing shop, running fingers over the cloaks and furred boots. “seriously?”

“as serious as death.”

“huh.” you weight the cloak before holding it out to measure it against the width of the prince’s chest. “well, he was a looker, good choice. did he reciprocate?”

zagreus allows himself to be measured, “no, his heart had already belonged to another. it’s a long story.” he takes the cloak and hangs it over his arm, as you look for a size most appropriate to you.

“well, i mean we’re going to be stuck together for a while, so i guess i have time for long stories.” you selected something warm and good at bracing against the cold, haggling with the owner with the cheapest price possible before moving on to a blacksmith.

“how about you? who was your first interest?”

you look up from an arrow displayed, thumb stroking the tip. “i don’t think i had any, i mean? there was a noble a long time ago, but i think it’s been a long while since i’ve had interest.” you toy with the idea of buying another weapon, even if it made your skin sweat and crawl. “do you think we’ll need another weapon?”

the cloak looked dashing on him, furred and lining the broadness of his shoulders attractively. a wayward travelling prince. “i don’t think so. you got your dagger and i got stygius - it’ll be fine.” that was true, and besides, if things got bad - you trusted zagreus to keep you safe.

by the time you had returned to the inn, night had fallen, the sun dipping below the horizon and townsfolk scurrying back to their warm homes. you both were exhausted, despite just shopping, and lugging your wares for the night. a travelpack, dried food, medicinal supplies, and proper travel clothings. it was a good haul, if you were being honest. thank the gods that one of your skills involved haggling.

you stretch, rubbing your eyes, as you opened the door to your shared room ---- only to scream once you realized that someone was in the room. zagreus barrels past you, fists raised and eyes sparking with anger, pausing at the sight of hermes. “hermes? what in hades are you doing here?”

the initial shock wore off and now that you had time to truly study the other, there was a sense of otherworldliness that makes your insides tremble. his scarf floated around unnaturally, winged sandals fluttering to allow for him to float. lord hermes waved playfully, “hey boss! i knew that i would find you here. i tried looking for you at the cottage once i realized that the protections were down, and hooowe! what a mess that place was, crawling with satyrs.” the god spoke fast, not bothering to pause for breath. “and whoooo do we have here?” suddenly, he was in your face, eyes scanning over your features and breaching your boundaries. if it was anyone else, you would’ve shoved the back, but since this was an olympian... you let him have his fill of staring.

zagreus clears his throat loudly, “that’s my friend, lord hermes. we managed to escape the attack by the satyrs - is there a reason why you’re here?”

parcels overflowed his messenger bag, fluttering to the ground before fading away, lord hermes looked through it all, humming to himself. “well, coz, the family is in a bit of a tizzy right now! especially demeter, persephone had disappeared, and well, we heard some more troubling news! she disappeared in an area where it’s heavily shielded by magic. we suspect that the satyr cultists originate from there. we would go and raze it, buuuuuut there’s just too many.” he was far too nonchalant, barrelling on despite the fact that zagreus was still fixated on the part where his mother had disappeared. “anyways, i’ll give you one of my blessings.” lord hermes placed a hand on zagreus’ head, his entire being shining like a beacon, dazzling you before it dies down.

where hermes once was, he no longer was there, leaving a map behind.

sparks of light danced on zagreus’ body, face grim. “my mother disappeared.” he says quietly, sitting down on the cot and draping his forearms on his knees. you let him sit, bending down to grab the map and read it. it looked like a long, arduous journey - perilous, judging by the marks that indicated great danger. he sighs loudly, looking up at you, face pained. “you should stay here. it’s safer.”

the paper crinkles underneath your hands and you take a moment to set it onto the table, curling into fists once they were freed. “i don’t care. i’m coming with you!” you shake your head firmly, “i pledged my service to lady persephone and now, i pledge my service to you.” you drop down to one knee, fist against your heart. “prince zagreus, son of hades, son of persephone, charge of the goddess nyx, i swear that i will do everything in my power to help you.”

he looks soft, pulling you up to your feet and hugging you tightly. “ok, ok. we’re in this together. we have a long day tomorrow, let’s rest.” true, you were terrified. but you were determined to help zagreus and find his mother. then this family would find the peace they deserved. you arrange yourself in a familiar position, curled on your side with zagreus behind you, carefully wrapping an arm around your waist, he murmurs out a quiet good night, something that you return and allowed your eyes to flutter shut.

----

you’re awaken by a beam of sun hitting your shut eyes. a groan leaves your lips, as you push yourself into a sitting position. zagreus, like yesterday morning, was not there - his spot cold to the touch. maybe he was off getting breakfast from the nice baker. your body finally starts aching less, and you stand up, ready to wash your face to prepare for the rough journey ahead.

but something was off. half of the travel supplies were gone, stygius was gone, the map was gone. your mind was slow to alarm, but once the dots had clicked, anxiety rose like an unrelenting crash of waves upon the shores. “what the...” you look for the things, the conclusion settling itself onto your mind, before your attention is captured by a piece of parchment on the table. you lift it up and begin reading it:

when you wake up, you’ll find that half of the things are gone and i’m sorry for that. but the journey is too dangerous, i can’t have someone i care about get hurt for me. i want you to stay there and wait for my return, i won’t be long.

- zagreus.

ps. i borrowed myroclus for the time being.

you read the words over and over until they’re tattooed behind your eyelids. then rage swells in your throat, releasing in an angered yell, as you bang your fist onto the table, shoving it so that it fell to the side.

that bastard, that arrogant, little ... prick! you can make your own decisions for yourself. you didn’t need some prince to decide what was good for you and what wasn’t. argh!

it takes you a few minutes to stop screaming into the cot before you stomp down to the stables and yank the nearest stableboy to your face, seething. “i am very angry. did someone take my horse? about this tall, laurels around his head and mismatched eyes?”

the stableboy quakes and nods, “sir told me not to tell you, he took the horse and travelled out.”

“where?” he shrugs and you release him, tears brimming your eyes. how could he do this to you? how could he leave you behind? in a town with no friends and no one to turn to for help ---

you stop, spine straightening as you stare into the open air. you knew someone who could help you. your steps take you straight to the baker who was already getting ready for the day’s rush, she turns her head to smile at you, only for it to fall at the sight of the tears on your face. “----Thisbe? i’m going to go out for a bit, someone needs my help.” deep within the bakery, someone calls out an affirmative.

the baker grabs your hand and pulls you into her home, and seats you on a chair. she busies herself with brewing tea and grabbing bread, “you look like a mess, what’s wrong?”

you take the offered cup of soothing tea, tasting honey on your tongue before explaining everything that had happened. well, omitting the part about hermes and satyrs and so on. you look to the ground, eyes brimming with tears, “i thought he trusted me. but he left me here... i don’t have money or a horse or anything!” your hands cover your face, crying quietly.

she is silent for a long moment and she leaves your side. you think she’s going back to the bakery to ready for customers while you cried your heart out. but the sound of metal hitting together has you looking up. “here. this should be enough to last you until you hit the next town. if you go into the stables near here, the guy owes me something. he’ll give you a horse.”

she guides you to your feet, laughing at how baffled you look. “why are you helping me?”

the baker holds your hands, squeezing gently - “when i was trying to escape war, someone did the same for me, helped me start my life back up. i don’t know why, but it feels like lady hestia is telling me to help out. to... pay it forward.”

you dry your tears with the back of your hand, “can i know your name? not just... for the guy to know, but so that i can remember the person who helped me.”

“menelaia,” menelaia leans forward and kisses your cheek gently, placing a piece of bread into your hands and nudging you outside. “go get that stubborn prince back.” you nod and rush out of the bakery, pledging to come back here to return everything to menelaia.

true to form, the man at the stable offered you a hardy steed. a chestnut stallion with a midnight black mane and a fire in his eyes. “he’s tough and fast, trust in him.” you stroke the horse’s side, “his name is amydros, he will get you to where you need to be.”

you place a saddle pad over your horse’s back, amydros nickering quietly, patient. you were pleasantly surprised to find that your stay had been paid for, but that made you that much more determined to catch up to zagreus and give him a piece of your mind.

the sun had scarcely risen above the frost-covered trees, amydos hitting the snow-covered ground with his hooves. you didn’t exactly remember the entire contents of the map, but you knew that he was headed to the next town. hopefully it had a temple to hermes, just so that you could pray to him and ask for help. (help with wringing zagreus’ neck until he got sense back).

your heels dig into amydos’ sides, prompting the horse to run down the well-beaten path of the open countryside, the next town scarcely able to be seen. as long as you stayed on the path, you’d be fine, you hoped...

#hades the game #hades supergiant #zagreus hades #my writing #aku writing #ZAGREUS YOU JERK!

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imnotwolverine · 5 years ago

Text

The marriage pact - Piece of cake

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 2 | Part 3 Piece of cake | Part 4 >

Disclaimer: none

Author’s note: It’s romcom weekend, okay? 😘

Word count: 1.388

(Link to my Masterlist)

[ Alice.in.writing.land ]

Dear readers,

First of all thank you for all your well wishes. I had a most lovely cake baking weekend. Both literally and figuratively speaking.

The literal cake is mostly gone now - yes I had some friends over last night, so don’t worry about me feasting on the whole thing on my own. I mean..I would never..ever…Okay, I admit it, I would have totally eaten that whole cake if it weren’t for my friends.

And the figurative cake? Well let’s just say a most curious thing happened and the figurative cake is as chocolaty as it could get - with cherries on top. Which, perhaps might just be too good to be true, but that is a concern for another day as I’ll first be spending all my love and attention on another piece of cake this week; babysitting a 3-year old for 3 days straight.

Yes, you read that right; Ali, the 37-year old single is going to be responsible for a 3-year old fairy princess..whom I happen to share my first name with. Alice and Alice, going on a tiny but mighty three day adventure, right into the rabbit hole of temp mom-hood.

My life is getting curiouser and curiouser indeed.

Ali.

‘Oh thank you SO much, Ali. I hate to ask this of you. But you know how Alice is with flying and it was last minute and..-‘

‘It’s fine Maddie. Really. And I’m glad I can help out.’ I followed Maddie into the hallway of her and Frank’s absurdly large home - my residence for the next three days.

‘So your mom’s stable for now?’ I inquired, looking at the suitcases that were already waiting on the black and white checkered tiles - by the looks of it neatly packed, though the haste was great; her mom needed immediate surgery and Maddie wished to be there for her. Which meant flying. And leaving her toddler Alice behind.

‘Yea, it seems like everything’s under control. But we just want to be there for her you know. It’s still quite a serious operation she’ll be having and she’ll need some help the first days…And.. you know how she is. She’s an old peach who is far too stubborn to ask for help.’ Maddie rolled her eyes in amusement. We both chuckled. ‘Well no worries about the home front, me and my fellow Alice will surely have a splendid time.’

‘Ugh you are the best.’ Maddie sighed, walking us into the kitchen where the little princess was eating her breakfast.

‘Hey you!’ I cheered, immediately noticing the large pout on Alice’s face.

‘She’s a little cranky today. Aren’t you sweet angel?’

’No!’ Alice retorted with an even larger pout, her tiny eyebrows furrowing in disdain.

Oh, she was in a foul mood.

I decided to not pay any attention to her heart wrenching pout and picked up a banana from the fruit bowl, my hands starting to peel it while Maddie continued to fuss over Alice. I watched the two - grumbling toddler, fussing mom - and couldn’t help but chuckle when it became quite obvious that the kid’s scowl was a ruse; as soon as Maddie turned away to clean up Alice’s bowl, the tiniest of smirks curled up on her toddler lips.

I grinned and winked at her.

Mischievous little thing!

‘Alright. Time we get going.’ Maddie nodded, sighing away a bit of the stress, her eyes flicking back to the hallway. ‘FRANK!’ She hollered, her impatient feet already walking back through the hallway, heel taps echoing through the quiet house. ‘FRANK! Time to go!’

Just then Frank appeared through the backdoor of the kitchen, his head popping around the corner and his ever friendly face quirking up a bushy, inquisitive eyebrow.

I nodded at the hallway and Frank sniffled. ‘Wife dear! Over here!’

It was near comical to see Maddie rush back into the kitchen, her shoulders rising high as she gave Frank a most exasperated look.

‘I was readying the car.’ He shrugged, not seeing what all the fuss was about, making Maddie sigh in slight annoyance before she turned back to coo over Alice once more. ‘Alright alright. Okay my love. OHH! I’ll miss you my baby sweet pea. I’ll call you every day! And don’t forget to brush your teeth! I love you..’ She pressed a kiss on the girl’s left cheek. ‘..I love you..’ She pressed another kiss on her right cheek. ‘..I love you!’ She exclaimed, pressing a final kiss right between the toddler’s frowning eyebrows.

I stepped in, picking up the pouting girl whilst Maddie and Frank started their way back into the hallway.

‘You know where everything is.’

‘Yep.’ I nodded, hoisting Alice a little higher on my hip, the front door now opened and the suitcases rolling out onto the door step.

‘Okay.’ Maddie sighed, stepping back to Alice once more and pressing a kiss on her forehead, then half-hugged me, leaving one hand on my shoulder: ‘Thanks, Ali, really. Thank you so much.’

‘It’s okay Mads. Now off you go. Don’t want to miss your plane.’

‘Yes! Alright! See you in three days! I’ll call you tonight!’

‘Alright! Good luck! We’ll send pictures!’

—

It was near lunch time and with a toddler in my wake I walked towards my parents house. I could hear her tiny feet trotting behind me, stopping every few steps to pick a flower or watch a bird.

The reason of our little excursion was quite silly; my morning brain had forgotten to remind me that I wished to bring my laptop to Frank and Maddie’s home, and thus we had to go back to my parent’s place to go pick it up.

‘Ali Ali look!’ Little Alice pulled the hem of my skirt and I followed the direction of her pointing finger, seeing Marianne approach us - Henry’s mom-, a familiar dog leashed in her right hand. It was quite a funny vision; the absolutely huge and slightly clumsy akita walking next to the tiny, but well-put together lady.

Marianne smiled and waved at us and before I knew it little Alice started running towards Marianne - her tiny legs surprisingly fast. I widened my eyes, a sudden mother instinct kicking in; what if she fell? What if..ooph..the tarmac would tear her tender skin right open! Or.. what if Kal got over excited?

Quickly I ran after her, picking her up. ‘Woosh!!’ I said, dragging her through the air like she was flying. The toddler chuckled in delight, stretching her arms as if she were Superman. ‘Wieeeeee!!!!’ She exclaimed, my feet now speeding up as the soft morning wind brushed through her yellow blond curls, my poor arms protesting as I was not quite strong enough to hold up a toddler.

Marianne laughed heartily, shortening the leash so Kal couldn’t jump up at me and Alice, her feet halting just before she reached us. I quickly put Alice back on my hip and winked at the happy toddler, her cheeks glowing as another giggle burst through.

‘Hello Alice..and Alice.’ Marianne smiled.

‘Hi Marianne. Got a new dog?’ I winked, to which Marianne chuckled. ‘No, no. Though what a darling bear it is. Aren’t you Kal?’ She ruffled a hand through Kal’s fur, the dog looking up in curiosity, tail wagging happily. She continued: ‘No I just wished to help Henry out for a bit. His schedule changed rather last minute, so he has other things on his mind right now. Calling..rescheduling..calling..you know how that goes.’

‘I can figure. How’s Colin?’

‘Good. His sturdy old self.’ She smiled, her eyes moving towards little Alice. ‘So are you girls out on a stroll as well?’ She asked the toddler.

‘No! Ali forgot her thingy.’ The toddler shook her head, then pointed at my parents house.

‘Ah..the thingy.’ Marianne nodded, scrunching her nose in amusement as she looked back at me.

‘Yep. The thingy.’ I nodded, feigning pure seriousness.

We all laughed for a moment before Alice reached out to Kal, wishing to be put down to pet the dog.

‘Careful Alice.’ I whispered, turning my back towards the dog so I could keep Kal away for a moment longer as I placed the toddler before him. ‘Reach out your hand and let him come to you, sniff you for a bit.’

‘That’s like saying hello.’ Marianne added, letting Kal approach. Kal’s tail wagged with great excitement, but the rest of the dog’s stance was calm and cautious, his nose pressing into the toddler’s hand, making her squirm in delight. Kal responded with a big fat lick over her tiny palm, the two quite clearly getting along perfectly well.

Marianne looked at me, trusting Kal was the goodest of boys - the dog clearly calm enough to let the encounter go safe and smooth. ‘You would never guess what Henry asked of me yesterday.’ She smiled.

‘What?’ I asked, my eyebrow lifting in curiosity.

‘Oh,’ She waved her hand through the air, as if it was a silly thing to talk about. ‘I’m sure he wishes to show you that himself.’ She said mysteriously, an amused glint glittering in her deep blue eyes.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I observed Alice and Kal coo over each other. What was Kal’s owner up to, hmm? What..oh..what was he up to? I felt my heart flutter for a moment as my eyes drifted towards the Cavill’s house, not far in the distance. The place where Henry was currently making those three gazillion phone calls.

Curiouser and curiouser indeed..

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raysofcrosby · 5 years ago

Text

LITTLE DO YOU KNOW PT. 9

"𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦." ━ 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫

gif credit (x)

series masterlist

requested: yes | no

warnings: cussing and angst, but nothing else tbh.

word count: 5,294 [of un-proofread material lol sorry]

authors note: HI EVERYONE!!! First off, I just want to wish you all a Happy Holiday season! I honestly didn’t think i was going to get anything out, but work has been extremely stressful and i needed to write and voila, part 9 lmfao. there’s only three more parts of the series left and i can’t believe it’s almost over! thank you to anyone who’s reblogged, liked, sent in a message, written in their tags or even took the time to read any part of this series– i love you all. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all! I hope you all have an amazing day and enjoy part 9!

Avoiding Jamie and Tyler after the shitshow that took place in Tyler's house Friday night, was your number one priority. Thankfully, the Stars were out of town in Nashville and weren't due to come back to Dallas until early Sunday morning. You weren't sure if Tyler still wanted you to watch the dogs, so the next morning after everything happened, you took an uber to his place. When you walked inside to feed the dogs and take them on their walk, they were nowhere to be found. You walked around the house, whistling and even going as far as to squeaking Gerry's favorite toy– but no sound of paws against the floor or the jingling of their collars. When you went to leave, the front door opened and John walked in, holding onto the three dogs' leashes. He looked surprised to see you and the moment the two of you made eye contact, you realized that he knew.

And it was obvious that your dog sitting services were no longer needed, so you rushed back to campus and practically locked yourself in a library study room, throwing yourself into studying for your last final.

If you thought back on it hard enough, you weren't sure if that was the final straw that jutted the metaphorical knife deeper into your stomach or what happened Sunday night when Big Rig came over. You had once again, spent the entire day throwing yourself into studying for your finals and by the time you returned back to your dorm room, Kennedy was ordering dinner in for her and Big Rig.

You hadn't meant to completely shut her out, but you honestly felt a little embarrassed at how everything came crumbling down. Tyler had yet to reach out, he pretty much fired you from taking care of the dogs, you're pretty sure that your brother pretty much disowned you...and Kennedy, though not as straight-forward, had warned you of it all. The last thing you wanted to do was feel worse than you did now...though that logic isn't working, because well, you were feeling pretty shitty.

Kennedy was your best friend for a reason and she knew better than anyone that when you were ready to talk about it all, you would. So, unfortunately for her, but lucky for you, she was dealing with your sadness with grace– aka by not complaining when you had your playlist blasting through your headphones or not commenting on how you were watching the notebook one too many a time.

By the time Big Rig had arrived at your dorm, you had shut off your computer for the night, buried yourself beneath the covers, rolled yourself towards the wall and had been trying to fall asleep for almost an hour. You thought that you'd be able to eventually fall asleep, maybe while they were just going to watch Criminal Minds and eat some dinner, but the moment that their hushed whispers grew a little louder, there was no hope.

"How is she doing?" He asked, talking softly as he kicked his shoes off onto the floor and hopped onto her bed, his tall and heavy frame causing it to buckle beneath him.

"Honestly? Not so good. " Kennedy sighed and you could feel her gaze lingering on your back. "Neither Jamie or Tyler have talked to her. She's been either spending all her time studying, blasting sad breakup songs, skimming through The Notebook or sleeping."

"Oh shit...The Notebook?"

Kennedy was silent but climbed onto her bed as Big Rig shifted and unloaded the delivery bag. "I even called her mom earlier, just to give her a heads up before she came home for Christmas in case she notices that two of her kids aren't talking. And then right after, Jordie reached out to me because Y/N wasn't answering him and neither was Jamie. So, I filled him in too."

You couldn't even be angry at her for the fact that she told both your mom and Jordie about what had happened. Firstly, the two of them already had some sort of clue as to what was going on between you and Tyler. Secondly, once again, she was just being your best friend and looking out for your best interest– plus now you didn't have to have that awkward conversation once you went home.

"Yeah, Jamie's uh..." Big Rig cleared his throat and you could tell that he was either trying to avoid talking about something or just trying to figure out how to say it.

"Was it bad yesterday?"

"Horrible," he sighed and shifted on the bed again, probably lying back. "Everyone knows."

"Everyone knows?" She asked, the confusion in her voice evident. "As in...they know about Y/N and Tyler?"

"They know everything."

"Jesus Christ! Is Jamie that fucking petty and pissed that he went and blabbered about it to the whole team?" She caught her voice elevating and stopped, placing their food off to the side. "I'm going to kill him. What an asshole and to do that to his own–"

"It wasn't Jamie."

"Then who–"

"Well, I mean, Bish was with Jamie when he...walked in on the two of them, so Jamie told Bish– but he already kind of had a feeling because Jamie said something about it." Big Rig cleared his throat again. "But no, it was some fan account on Instagram for wags, I guess?"

"Explain, now."

You heard him sigh and you contemplated making it known that you were wide awake, but you had to admit to yourself that you were a little bit interested.

"So it some small fan account for wags of the team, I guess. Anyway, so they make a post and they have pictures of Y/N and Tyler from nights we all went to the bar, to pictures of him picking her up from A.B.C. and even his Halloween party. It was like... spam of almost 10 pictures and you can see how close they are and it's not hard to guess that they have something going on."

"Okay, and how does this tie into the whole team finding out?"

"Everyone got tagged in it. Players, girlfriends, wives, I think even Tyler's family and Y/N too. By the time the plane took off, it was kind of common knowledge."

Your heart was racing against your chest and it felt like it could explode at any minute. Everyone on the team and their significant others knew, which meant the coaches and training staff probably knew. How the hell were you supposed to show your face in the locker room tomorrow without wanting to just disappear into thin air?

"Shit, this is pretty much Worst-case scenario. How is she supposed to walk into a room and treat them all for their weak bones when they all know about her and Tyler?" Kennedy sighed her gaze on you.

"I mean...I don't think anyone judges her for it, because she's still Y/N to them, you know?"

"It doesn't matter, J. Even if she's still just Y/N, they'll still probably look at her and think– 'oh wow, she's been boning our teammate. there's another notch on the belt.' And I know they're your friends, but with Tyler's reputation and all males sharing the same brain– you can't tell me that it's not true."

Big Rig was silent for a few moments before deciding to speak again. "The game was even worse. He and Tyler are barely speaking, the tension between them on the ice was obvious as hell. Add in the confusion with Montgomery being fired and the Instagram was the cherry on top of a Sunday that nobody wants."

"Was it that bad? The two of them?"

"A few of the guys and I were talking on the plane ride back and we're all afraid that something is going to happen at practice or in the middle of a game or something and the tension between them with just make the two of them implode."

"And that would be another worst-case scenario come true," Kennedy sighed again. "God, this is such a mess."

That was all you were able to stand before you sat yourself up and turned towards the two of them. You took in their shocked appearances and you knew that they had thought you were asleep and that if you weren't they wouldn't have had this entire conversation with you in the room.

"I'm sorry," you said, your bottom lip starting to tremble no matter how hard you tried to fight it. "It's all my fault that everything is so messed up because I'm just some stupid little girl with a stupid crush and I ruined a friendship and your team chemistry."

Kennedy looked at Big Rig and got up off of her bed and walked over to your bed. "This is in no way, shape or form your fault, Y/N. I want you to get that through your head right now. " She grabbed one of your hands and tugged on it, causing you to look at her. "Tyler is a big boy, he knew what he was doing and he knew the consequences of his actions. So you are not going to put the full blame on yourself."

"She's right," Big Rig spoke up, sitting up in her bed. "Besides, I don't think that they hate each other. I just think that Jamie is probably a little bit embarrassed because he feels like everyone knew what was going on and he didn't. Especially since Jordie and Bish both had their suspicions about it."

"See?" Kennedy smiled, squeezing your hand again. "Your big brother is just letting his itty bitty man pride get in the way of his common sense."

"He probably also thinks that Tyler was taking advantage of you," he cleared his throat, and his cheeks turned a hint of pink at his insinuation of yours and Tyler's relationship. "Especially since he's older and that Jamie trusted him to be like a brother to you whenever he wasn't around."

As comforting as they tried to make their words, they did nothing but only make you feel worse and that you were responsible for everything that had happened. You sniffled and shook your head, looking at the two of them. "I don't think I can finish the internship, not when everybody knows."

Kennedy was about to say something, only to be cut off by the sound of Big Rig's feet thumping against the floor. He had hopped off of the bed and nudged Kennedy to the side, standing in front of you. He tilted your chin up and made you look at him, seriousness written all over his face. "Absolutely fucking not. You are not going to let some tatted doofus make you quit, okay? This is your dream and as your second best friend, I'll be damned if I let you quit, got it?"

"Got it." You smiled and nodded as Kennedy reached in and wiped a tear from your cheek.

Big Rig smiled and patted the side of your cheek. "Good, now come eat some of this food with us."

❒❒❒❒

It turns out that your little bonding night with Big Rig and Kennedy was exactly what you needed. It wasn't a magical cure to fix everything, but it made you fall asleep a little easier that night. And when you woke up the next morning, you were ready to take on your last final just before you'd head off to the arena for the game. When you sat down to take your final, you felt confident in yourself and slightly more relaxed and at ease than you had been the last two days. However, that all changed the moment your Physiology and Anatomy final was placed in front of you and the time to take your test began. It was smooth sailing up until halfway through when you came upon a question that brought out a memory from your many study sessions with Tyler.

For this particular question, you had to identify and label abdominopelvic quadrants, then their divisions, as well as the planes of the body. And the moment you stared at the outlined body and the lines waiting to be filled and identified, your eyes brimmed with tears at the memory of Tyler.

How when you walked into his house that afternoon and ready to study, he was already making the two of you lunch– 'brain food for my brainiac!' And when it came time to label the quadrants and planes, you realized you had forgotten the sheet your professor had given you, at your dorm. Tyler, being as brazen as he was, stood up off of the couch, took off his shirt, held out his arms to his sides, looked at you with a crooked, goofy grin and said, 'go ahead, paint on me like one of your french boys.' And when you corrected him on what the actual movie quote was supposed to be, he just stuck his tongue out at you and said, 'turn me into a masterpiece.' And it took every bit of self-restraint that you had in your body to refrain from telling him that he already was.

When you wrapped up your final and started to make your way to your dorm room to meet Big Rig so the two of you could head to the arena, your next big dilemma crossed your mind: all of the dorms were closing in two days and you had nowhere to stay. You were originally supposed to stay with Jamie and Katie at his place until the two of you were going to fly home together, but you doubt that's an option anymore. But that was another problem for another day and you weren't going to worry about it until later because your only important issue today, would be how you would carry on in the training room today.

When it came time to enter the training room, Big Rig offered to walk in with you, but you told him that if you were going to do this, you would do it yourself and then you ushered him off towards the locker room. You expected your feet to move towards the door and open it before walking inside, but the longer you stared at it, the more frozen you were. You could hear the muffled voices mingling together on the other side of the door, which only made your heart race and the knot in your stomach tangle and tightens. The locker room door opened behind you and you froze, hoping that it wasn't Jamie or Tyler.

"You're still standing here?"

You turned to look at Big Rig, who was now dressed down from his suit and wearing some shorts and a shirt. "You act like I've been standing here for ten minutes."

"Try five, Y/N." He sighed and walked ahead of you, pushing the door halfway open and turning to you, nodding his head towards the door. "Come on, if there's one person who's one-hundred percent on your side, it's me."

You wanted to run into him and hug him tight, but you settled with thanking the Universe for sending Jamie Oleksiak your way before you followed him into the training room. As expected, the immediate conversation stalls, but only for a short second before it picks back up again. And if you weren't so focused on noticing any kind of difference, you might not have noticed that it paused at all. One thing that was extremely obvious though, was the way that all of the boys were looking at you. Sure, they were friendly, that's their character– but you could still see it in every pair of eyes, the fact that they knew about you and Tyler.

And you couldn't help but feel like they were judging you for it.

Klinger was the first one to come up to you while you were preparing Big Rig for his stretches, and you just had an overwhelming urge to hug the swede, but you resisted. "How did your final go, Y/N?" He asked, stopping by and leaning against the table Big Rig was sitting on.

It felt like things might ease back into normality, just based on his normal question and the conversations going on around you– it was like a weight off of your shoulders. "I bet that you aced it," Big Rig said, poking at you with his foot. "You're the genius Benn after all. You and Jenny must have the brains because I don't know what Jordie and Jamie got."

Right, when you went to reply, the door opened and on instinct, you turned to see who walked in. When you saw it was Jamie, it was as if every eye in the room was focused on the two of you. Jamie didn't bother to look your way, making his way over to the cabinet to grab some ibuprofen. "How did your final go?" He asked, his back turned to you and his voice void of any emotion.

"I think I did pretty good," you replied, feeling awkward as he kept his back to you before turning away and walking over towards another table, not even bothering to reply. You turned your attention to Klinger and gave him a small smile. "Thank you for asking, Klinger." You spoke softly.

He gave you a nod and patted your shoulder before going off back into the locker room. Everything felt fine and the awkward tension eased slightly as you went on helping Big Rig with his stretches. Sure, because of Jamie's presence, there was still a slight stir on tension as if everyone was expecting the two of you to implode right then and there– but it wasn't anything that couldn't be easily ignored. However, when the door opened again, this time Tyler walked through and it was like the air was sucked out of the room.

You felt yourself freeze as you went to adjust the band around Big Rig's foot and he tapped his foot against your hand, causing you to look at him. He took a deep breath and then breathed out slowly before nodding his head. You nodded back, still feeling everyone's eyes switching between focusing on you and focusing on Tyler. After you adjusted the band, you went over to your desk, instinctively picking up athletic tape before sitting down in your chair, waiting for someone else to ask for help.

"Hey, John, how long do you think you'll be?" Tyler asked, barely brushing by Jamie to grab a heating pad before pacing it onto his shoulder.

"What do you want done?" John replied, looking up from a separate cabinet.

"My ankles?"

"Give me two and I can help."

Tyler nodded, adjusting the heating pad before walking right back out of the locker room, not even bothering to look in your direction. You were crushed and fighting like hell not to have it show on your face as you sat in your chair, gripping the athletic tape tightly. Soon, tapping your foot against the floor became another way to prevent yourself from giving in to your emotions and before you knew it, Bishop was calling for your attention at Big Rig's table as he hopped off. "Yeah?"

"Can you come over for a second? I need you to help me tape my thumb for me real quick." You walked over, your supplies already in hand and stood in front of the goalie. "How are you doing?"

"Good, especially now that classes are done," you smiled, exhaling lightly. "Now I get to relax...sort of."

"No, Y/N," he said, looking around the room before leaning in closer. "How are you really doing?" The way he raised an eyebrow slightly, gave you a hint as to what he was asking.

You were slightly embarrassed that he was asking you, but at least he wasn't being so blunt and loud about it. "Embarrassed, sad," your eyes lingered away from taping his thumb and over to your brother, who had a focused and zoned in look on his face. "Is disowned too dramatic?"

He laughs lightly, but his lack of answer lets you know that your feelings are completely valid. "I'm sorry by the way," you apologized, cutting the athletic tape. "For making things awkward around here."

"They're grown men, they'll figure it out," he shrugged, watching as you finished taping his thumb. "Don't worry about that, worry about you."

"Do you think I made a mistake?" You asked as he hopped off of the table.

He looks like he wants to say yes, or maybe you're just overthinking it. He shrugs his shoulders and gives you a half-smile. "Is it a mistake if it makes you happy?"

His reply lingered in your mind as you watched him leave the room before returning to your chair. You placed your supplies onto the desk and spun yourself around to face the wall, thinking about what he said and for once, not feeling all too guilty about your decision.

❒❒❒❒

You've never been happier at the fact that you had to stay in the training room during a game. You took solace in the quiet as the muffled music, announcements and cheers were on the other side of the door. Normally, you'd spend this time studying, but since you were done with all of your finals...you had nothing to do but play on your phone, make sure that the training room was clean and of course help any player who came in with something John sent them back to you for.

The game wasn't going so well the second period was almost over and Dallas was down 2-0. Kennedy was sitting with Katie and sending you updates on how Big Rig was doing, but other than that, you were too busy watching random videos on youtube. You're watching one of those astrological card reading videos when you hear the announcers muffled voices yelling about a hit, a fight and then bickering. By the time you were fully able to focus and take out the one headphone, they were done announcing it and the crowd was roaring– a mix of boos and cheers, you couldn't tell. Right when you went to go back to your video, a text message from Kennedy popped up.

"j took a high stick to the face, ty went to go fight the guy who kept trying to go back after j."

"j and ty arguing...it looks ugly."

You clicked on the message, ready to reply and ask for a more specific update when the locker room door swings open violently and Tyler walks in with a pissed look all over his face and blood on his jersey. You weren't sure if it was trainer mode, friend mode or that your feelings were coming into play, but you left your phone on your desk and ran over to him. "Holy shit, Tyler are you okay?"

He looked as if he was mumbling to himself, the anger still evident on his face as he ignored your question. "I'm just going to take your helmet off for you," you said, reaching up to grab his helmet. "Just to make sure the blood isn't coming from–"

As if he snapped back into focus, he stumbled back, looking at you. "Don't touch me!"

You were startled at how loud and angry he sounded. You've never seen him this angry outside of a hockey game, so seeing it first hand right now, was terrifying. But you needed to do your job, so you weren't backing down. "No, I need to check to make sure that your head isn’t bleeding, Tyler. So just let me–"

"Just– don't!" He said, this time glaring at you, the anger on his face still there, but the look in his eyes softening the moment they took in the slight fear on your face. "God, you're acting like...like," he waved his hand in the air as if the words he was looking for were there to catch. "Like some obsessed hook up!"

Your jaw dropped and as if he just understood the words that left his mouth, the anger started to fade off of his face and for a moment, he looked like he might apologize.

The door swung open again, this time Jamie walking in and stopping just a little into the room. His eyes took in just how close the two of you were standing together and he scoffed. "Of fucking course."

Tyler spun around and pointed at Jamie. "Oh shut the fuck up, Jamie. I stood up for your ass just now."

"You think fighting Draisaitl is sticking up for me when you're the reason why he made that fucking comment?" Jamie yelled, his voice getting deeper, something that always happened whenever he got angry. "You wouldn't have to 'stand up for me' if you were focused and knew where to pass the damn puck instead of daydreaming about getting laid!"

"Guys, stop!" You said, trying to move past Tyler to get in between the two grown men, a huge sense of deja vu washing over you. "Jamie, are you okay?"

"Oh, now you seem to care what I think? Where was this before you started sleeping with my best friend?" And there it was, the aggression pointing towards you– the real reason why he was probably upset anyway.

"I asked if you were okay, not for your fucking opinion column, Jamie." You sniped, reaching up and taking off his helmet before tossing it onto a table and going towards where the suture kit was kept so you could pull it out for whoever was coming in to stitch him up. "You have a cut on your forehead.”

"I am focused on this game, so fuck you, Jamie!"

"Really?" Jamie scoffed, shaking his head. "So you're not focused on the fact that you're gonna go home with Maisy and probably get laid tonight?"

You froze, just as you turned back with the suture kit and glue in hand– that one name sending you into a small panic. You looked to Tyler before looking at Jamie, who was just shaking his head. "Oh Y/N, you didn't know? Maisy's here. You know who Maisy is, you remember?"

Tyler shook his head. "What are you–"

"Don't even play coy, Seguin. Katie texted me before the game and said she bumped into Maisy, who coincidentally is sitting in the same seats that you got her last year."

At this point, you felt like you were going to be sick. You had asked Tyler about Maisy and he told you everything. How yeah, she was one of his main hook-ups last season, that he cut it off completely in the summer, it was never super serious and that they haven't talked since.

But Maisy was here in the same seats Tyler gave her last season and Tyler wasn't arguing back...so maybe he didn't tell you everything.

"Why is that, Tyler?" Jamie asked, raising his eyebrows. "Why is Maisy here? Did you get what you wanted from my little sister so you went back to–"

Tyler lunged at Jamie just as Craig walked into the room. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell is going on?" He asked, looking at you as the two fuming hockey players stood apart from one another.

Jamie and Tyler say nothing, only moving onto opposite tables as Craig points Jamie to sit down. "Y/N, can you help Tyler with gluing that cut? It shouldn't be too much."

It felt like your entire body was throbbing as you stood there, still trying to take in the information that Jamie just shared. You looked at Jamie who was fuming and glaring at Tyler. And when you looked at Tyler, his anger was written all over his face, but there was something else mixed in that you couldn't quite pinpoint. When you finally looked at Craig, you shook your head. "I think I'm going to be sick."

You pushed the kit into his chest before running out of the training room and down the hallway, finding the nearest restroom. When you locked yourself inside of a stall, you hunched over the toilet, the tears falling from your eyes and into the toilet bowl as the sobs wrecked you. Everything seemed like it would be okay, but what had just happened in the game tonight and in the training room– proved otherwise. There's no way you'd be able to complete this internship in one piece. You went to reach for your phone to text Kennedy, but only then did you realize that it was sitting on your desk.

There's no way you'd be able to go back into that room with Jamie and Tyler being there together– you wouldn't survive. And it turns out, bathrooms make pretty good hiding spots.

By the time you had deemed the coast to be clear, you made your way back into the training room once the third period started and you knew no one would be in it. When you walked into the empty room, you sent Kennedy a text, asking her to meet you in the hall after the game and then you spent the rest of your time wishing that the game would just end.

The Stars lost 2-1 and Tyler scored a goal in the third. Once upon a time, not too long ago, Tyler would've joked that he scored that goal for you– 'his number one fan beside his mom'– but now you couldn't help but let your mind wander over into if he ever told Maisy the same.

As promised, Kennedy met you in the hallway with Katie by her side. Katie was explaining all of last season of the Maisy and Tyler saga to you and Kennedy, but you wanted no part of it, so you zoned yourself out, staring at the end of the tunnel, wondering if you'd see her walk down this way. By the time both Jamie and Big Rig came out of the locker room, there was still no sign of Maisy and you couldn't help but wonder if she was waiting out there for Tyler or even if at all.

"Y/N, are you coming home with us?" Katie asked, giving you a friendly smile and ignoring the glare in her direction that was coming from your brother.

You weren't ignoring it though and though it was there, you knew how to read your brother and beneath that glare were hints of sadness. But you didn't care, you were still angry at him for the stunt he pulled in the training room and sad at the fact that up until today, he hadn't bothered to talk to you– and even then, it was aggressive. You looked at Big Rig and nodded your head in his direction. "No, they're just going to drop me off before they go to his place."

Your walk from the hallway and through security and parking to Big Rig's car felt like a blur as Kennedy and Big Rig were focused on their conversation. As you got into the back of the car, you leaned forward between the passenger and driver's seats. "I sent my mentor an email during the game tonight and I have a meeting with her on Thursday to talk about the required hours of my internship and see if I've met them yet."

Kennedy turned back to face you so fast, you were sure she was going to have whiplash. Big Rig, as clueless as ever, looked between you and Kennedy. "What does that mean?"

Kennedy kept looking at you, raising an eyebrow and you just nodded. She sighed and turned to Big Rig. "It means she's done being your trainer."

#tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin oneshot #tyler seguin writing #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl oneshot #hockey imagine #hockey oneshot #hockey writing #tyler seguin one shot #hockey one shot #nhl one shot #ldyk fic #my writing

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btswishes · 5 years ago

Text

I will adopt you.

Monsta X (Shownu) hybrid au

Part1 / Part2 / Part3 / Part4 / Part5 / Part6 / Part7 / Part8 /…

A/N: Guys, this scenario is going pretty slowly.I am trying to balance a lot of this right now. I will try to finish all the fics I started pretty soon. Sorry for the delay and any mistakes made.

Word count: 2, 833

Warnings: I mean ,just normal 21 century teen cussing.

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The sun warmed up a small area on your cheek. It took a few movements for you to realize that morning was upon you. Once your eyes opened fully ,you were surprised by the still strong warmth making you not want to leave the bed. Soon after, you remembered last night almost like it was a movie scene.

Your back was currently facing Shownu and you didn’t know what to do. Your body felt frozen in place, or it might not have wanted to move. You could hear and feel his gentle deep breaths on the back of your nape.

After some pondering around the idea of doing something, you turned around.The breath in your throat hitched in it’s place, as your eyes were met with his. Shownu was awake. His look was calm, the blinking motion- elegant and gentle. It was so slow and soothing as the hypnotic effect of a watch, swinging side to side in front of your face.

Shownu was just looking at you. His hand gently rose from under the cover, to move a small strand of hair away from your eyes.

“G-good morning.” your voice broke the silence. He huffed a breath of air together with a small smile. The pillow case under his head made a small noise and he came closer, touching your forehead with his.

“Good morning.” you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. From his nose, to his lips, his cheeks and his jaw. You were jumping from one place to the other, trying to take in everything you were seeing.

“We should get up.” you mumbled under your nose, shy from the close exposure

“Do you want to get up?”

“We have to, I mean...I have some stuff to do today.” business was on the schedule for the day and you wanted to finish as soon as possible. He didn’t say a word and just sat up in bed. Shownu’s back was big, almost like a mountain covering you. Your gaze soon ended up onto his extremely messy bed hair. It was a bit funny looking on him and a small chuckle slipped out of your lips.His head looked back at you a bit crooked like a curious pup.

Now fully awake, you stood up on your knees and ran your hand through his hair, trying to calm it down. But it didn’t want to obey you at all. “Wait a second.” swiftly you jumped off the bed and grabbed the first brush you saw on top of your vanity. Shownu sat on the side of the bed as you walked back to him. With a gentle movement you began trying to brush through his hair, with the key word here being *trying*.

“Oh wow!” your hand was firmly on his forehead as you tried to pull the now stuck brush “Strange, your hair didn’t look so tangled yesterday.” the wood got caught in his thick fur like hair and didn’t want to let go. Placing your hands on your waist, you began thinking of something. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

Shownu was sitting on the edge of the bathtub as you rolled up the sleeves and cuffs on your pant. You didn’t want to get anything wet since this was going to be a tricky situation. Making sure his hair was wet enough, you put a big dollop of shampoo on your hand and began rubbing it into his hair. After the shampooing was done, you used the conditioner to smooth his hair enough to be brushed.

“Usually, any hairdresser would kill me for brushing wet hair.But you need all the help you can get.” it was difficult, you couldn’t lie about that for sure. He was very obedient, sitting still yet making strange faces as you tugged on his head. At some point you found yourself pulling the brush in one direction and pushing him in the other. It felt more like a fight between you and the knots is his fur. After what felt like an hour, you were able to turn it into something that resembled normal hair.

“I am done, I am done.” you could hear him growl out from time to time, almost like an angry pup fighting for his favorite toy. Washing off the conditioner, you threw a towel on his head and pulled him back to the couch in the living room. Shownu sat down cross-legged when you rubbed his head furiously to dry it. He didn’t have long locks of hair to pull out the hairdryer, plus you kinda forgot where it was anyways.

Breakfast was super fast, just some cereal.You wasted most of the morning on brushing Shownu, so you had to do things quickly. He was eating in front of you on the table and staring at the milk in the bowl. It was kinda quiet mainly because he was still shy around you. Or maybe he was more action and less talk type of person.

“I am going to go out for a bit today.” his head shot up in a nanosecond as he heard that you will be leaving for some time “I just finished up some documents that I need to hand them over to my supervisor. I have a meeting with him in a cafe close by, so I will probably take maybe 2 hours, more or less.”

“2?” he mumbled

“I was planning on meeting some friends too, since I always stay home.” you added ,placing the metal spoon in the bowl. Shownu perked up, when you placed your fingers on his forehead and pushed him back down. Kind of like in those seal videos you liked to watch on YouTube. This man constantly gave off mixed energies- one moment he is dominate and breathtaking and the other he is a total pup that you just want to cuddle all day. “Stay.” pulling your hand back, you pointed at him “Eat slowly and don’t rush or you will get indigestion. I will go get ready.”

Quickly you dashed to the bedroom and pulled out the formal clothes you had. Winter or not, you were meeting someone of a high position so being appropriately dressed always gave you extra work points. It made you look like you take your job seriously, even tho you did most of the work in your pjs eating chocolate.

“I am leaving. Do you want me to turn the TV on for you?” you placed the coat on your back and made sure the scarf was nicely tied around your neck- no cold air was going to reach you and that was the plan. Shownu was staring at you, but didn’t answer nor react to your question. “Ok...I am off then.” the shoes were on in a flash and you closed the door behind yourself. The elevator was taking longer to reach your floor today, since someone went to the last one and down again.

The doors finally slid open ,when you saw your reflection in the mirror and realized “I forgot the documents!” tapping your head a few times ,you ran back to your apartment “Idiot, idiot. So much for being professional.” the key slid in easily and you swung the door open. Almost instantaneously you jumped up almost hitting the light in the hallway.

“GOD!” you grabbed your chest with one hand and the door frame with the other “SHOWNU!” you screamed out so high pitched it sounded almost like a whistle note.”WHAT are YOU doinggggg!” you were going up and done the scale mixing in emotions that you never new you could express.

The boy was sitting literally in front of the door with his still half-full cereal bowl, staring. After catching your breath and making sure your heart didn’t relocate in your ears, you looked down at him. “Get up, it’s cold down there.” you tried to drag him to the fireplace, but obviously couldn’t ,so you asked him to move himself. “I made you a nice nest here so you can sleep and not catch a cold. Is this how pet owners feel when their animal doesn’t use something they bought for them? Probably.” the boy was just listening to you talking to yourself.

“Why did you come back?” his voice cut your monologue short

“I forgot to take the documents I need.” you grabbed them from the cozy spot on the table and closed the door behind yourself. You were about to lock it, when in your mind popped up a random thought. Slowly you pushed the handle down and slid the door silently open. Shownu was once more sitting on the cold ground looking at you, almost like the situation a minute ago didn’t happen. Eyes locked, you couldn’t take the somehow sad look he was giving you, so you burst into the room.Your hands were on your waist, scrunching the folder a bit.

“Get up puppy we are going shopping!” he crooked his head to the side and you knew you completely lost the movie reference moment. “Get dressed, you are coming with me.” in a matter of seconds he turned into his hybrid form, standing in the pile of clothes. He placed them on the bed and stared at you. From the hanger next to the entrance ,you pulled down the leash you got him, making sure it was lose around his neck.

Finally you were able to lock the door and jump in the elevator. It was silent until you grabbed his front paws and with all the strength you got pulled them off the floor. Shownu was confused and looking around like he was searching for the explanation in the environment.

“There we go.” sighing deeply you stared at the small backpack you threw on his back “You are not leaving the house without clothes. I don’t want to get called in the police station to pick your butt-ass naked self up.” his eyes were a bit judgmental about the whole situation You could have told me before hand. “I know I know, I am just all hyper after you scared me.” It is a strange habit I have. “Well we need to work on that.”

Checking the time, you calculated that there was enough of it not to rush around town like a crazy person. As you were planning your steps for the day, Shownu’s head shot in your direction. You can hear me?! “Yes, give me a second.I am thinking about something.By the way, didn’t know you can talk in dog form.” I can’t. “Ha?!” you looked down where he was sitting with almost the same emotions on his face “Then how do I hear you?? ?” I don’t know, this never happens with humans. “Wait, there are more hybrids?” Of course, do you think I materialized myself out of thin air? “How then?” he was a different species you could say, so it was natural to expect some differences. When a mommy wolf and a daddy wolf love each other a lot the- “Ok let me stop you there!” you placed your hands in front of his face to indicate how you weren’t looking forward to the direction this was going in “I know how it goes, we are good. I don’t need Sex ED in the elevator. I am good, really.” It’s interesting though. “I said I am good.” I don’t mean that. I am talking about you hearing me. “Do you think you can hear me thinking too?” We can try. You concentrated your mind as best as you could on random things, so the experiment could be with clear results.

“Um, morning Y/N...” your neighbor stepped in the elevator, confused about you intensely staring at your gigantic dog.

“Hi!” you straightened your back and looked at the man “I was just making sure he...um...he didn’t get bit by this other dog.”

“Oh, he is a fighter then?” the old man calmed down a bit and even chuckled “That shows you he is a lively one.”

“Sure is.” you let out a mix between a fake laugh and embarrassment “Have a nice day.” you ran out the building as fast as you could.

“Never doing that again.” your hands were leaning onto your thighs as you took a deep breath. That made no sense to begin with. “Don’t act all smart with me.” the alarm you set on your phone rang loudly and you cussed out “I am seriously going to be in trouble at this point.” Do you know where you are going? “Yeah, my boss gave me the address, I just need to pull out my phone and not drop it.” people were making way mostly because of Shownu’s size and fierce looks. “Here hold this!” your hand swung and you pushed the folder in his mouth, shocking even the people passing by.

“It’s around the corner we are close by.Oh wait!” stopping in front of the door you stared looking around the glass exterior. What are you doing? “I am trying to see if this place allows animals in.” Just go in. You pointed at his reflection and Shownu very quickly realized what you meant. The bell above the door rang and a very nice girl with short baby blue hair smiled in your direction. Her finger pointed at the very top corner of the cafe next to the sign.

“We allow pets, you don’t have to worry. Come in.” you bowed a bit from the sudden introduction and followed her inside “We have an area you can leave your pets if you want to. “ the girl sat you down next to the window and gave you a menu. “Is it male or female?”

“He is a boy.” you said

“Most of the dogs in the pet area are female, so I am just asking.Some customers are very picky about the animals that play with their pets.” your eyebrows frowned upon hearing that “Strange, I know. But that is how it is I guess.Would you like to order?”

“Oh yes. I would like the cafe’s special please.” closing the menu, you placed it on the table and crossed your legs, making yourself comfortable. “Nunu, do you want to go over there?” you looked at Shownu I am too tired to run around with them.Plus I am not an animal, I am a hybrid. “Ok, suite yourself.” the girl was still next to you while you were having this small chat “I am sorry, I probably look crazy to you.” you laughed out, scratching the back of your neck.

“No, not at all. I am also a dog owner and I know how it is.” she smiled in your direction and grabbed the menu “I will be right back with your order.” you nodded

The cafe was pretty nice, even thought there were so many animals. It was quiet and calming. They were all playing and enjoying themselves as their owners were talking with friends or just enjoying a moment of silence. Shownu was strangely falling asleep while you scouted the area. It was cute the way his head bobbed from time to time and his cute eyes blinked, trying to stay open.

“If you want to sleep, just tell me.” you giggled, patting your thighs. I am too heavy. “Not like that stupid.” you grabbed his head and placed it on your lap. He was big enough to lay on the floor and have his head comfortably on you. “See?” you asked Shownu as he was dosing off fast. Mhmm he just mumbled. The finishing blow came after you started petting his head, he just fell asleep in a second. Kids would come around from time to time wanting to pet him, because he looked like a big cuddly teddy bear.

Shownu staid awake most of the night making sure you had enough space on the bed, you were warm and comfortable. His worrisome nature kept him awake for most of the time. Your fingers ran through his thick fur slowly. As he was resting and recharging his battery, you were looking out of the glass window, waiting for your supervisor to finally show up.

Truth be told, you didn’t know who they were. You got a raise and placed in a higher standing branch of the company, so this was kinda you first day at work and your first evaluation. You were a bit worried that bringing Shownu was a bad idea, but his calm sleeping face and the way he would nuzzle himself closer to you, relaxed you and erased all anxiety you had. The tiny bell above the cafe door rang, but your attention was still focused on the outside world. The sun was illuminating your beautiful face and outlining your body in the comfortable yet formal clothes. You looked like an empress, petting her pet tiger and enjoying the empire she ruled over.

That picture formed in the head of the man that was walking towards you.

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