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vamossainz55 · 2 years ago

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Moonlight Ch. 5 | Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

hi everybodyyy, a bit late (is it becoming a trend? maybe) but i hope you enjoy it. a lot happens in the chapter but it is a bit of a filler to get the story moving. i tried adding as much carlos x reader as much as possible but the season is starting soon so im excited to get into that!! i think i was able to focus more on writing this one so i think it's also better written but im not too sure tbh! i hope you enjoy and as always please feel free to leave constructive criticism! enjoy <3<3

warnings: nothing just a bit of angst at the end. maybe a bit of swearing.

moonlight masterlist and summary here

short summary: exes to friends to lovers

read chapter four here.

Chapter Five (5k words)

“I am so sorry babe,” You sigh out as you slip on your McLaren shirt to go to the office. It had been a week since you had gone out with Ana and Carlos and it had been really hectic to say the least. The livery announcement date had finally settled and promptly announced which only meant working overtime with the team to make sure everything would happen. Most nights you found yourself coming home very late and in the mornings you were leaving as early as you could. Tom had made it clear that you didn’t need to come earlier and stay later than required (especially since you were on an intern salary) but you really couldn’t help it. You tried your best to get involved in every single thing possible, because what if you never got the opportunity again?

Bastien though was a little less happy about your arrangement. Working longer hours only meant less time to call with him and there was a clear disconnect between you both. A part of you was worried but he was also going to visit you soon so you hoped the tension would disperse then. All worries are gone until you’re telling Bastien about the livery date announcement and there’s a clear frown on his face.

“So what am I going to do on Valentine’s day in London by myself?” Bastien asks with a hint of annoyance in his voice and you let out a small sigh, shifting to look at your phone where your boyfriend was facetiming you. Bastien had planned a surprise trip to visit you for Valentine’s, wanting to stay with you for a few days, but with your news on the announcement date Bastien was not amused.

“I was planning on asking if you can join? Tom really likes me, I’m sure he’ll say yes.” You say, sitting in front of where your phone had been perched. You look at yourself through the small view on your phone screen as you clip some parts of your hair to the back to clear up your face. “If not Carlos or Lando can try asking for me I think they could have more influence than me.” You offer up as you adjust your bracelet.

Bastien looks over the screen and sighs. “I don’t care about these things, you know that.” Bastien says and you frown a little bit at his comment.

“I know it really isn’t your thing… but it’s my thing.” You say with a small smile. “Please? I’m sure you’ll love it. You’ll get to see the car in person and its really cool.” It looks like Bastien wants to argue but a notification comes on your phone that quickly catches your attention.

“Carlos is here, I’m gonna go yeah?” You say softly, looking over the screen. You hear Bastien sigh a little bit before nodding.

“Yeah, yeah. I find it weird that he’s driving you to work almost every day now but whatever.” Bastien mumbles and it’s your turn to feel a bit annoyed since he hadn’t made it an issue the days before.

“It’s not like that. When I went out with Ana and him we realised I’m practically on the way to the office for him. It saves me money from using public transport.” You justify for the third time already, although you understood where he was coming from. “I can stop going with him if you want.” You say again because as much as it didn’t mean anything you understood how it could be uncomfortable for your boyfriend that your ex was driving you almost every morning and evening. There is a moment of silence before Bastien speaks up again.

“No, no. I rather you go with him, it’s safer too.” There’s a part of you that doesn’t really believe him but you decide that it’s better not to say anything. “Just text me when you get home and stuff yeah?” He asks and you give him a nod just as a phone call is coming in.

“I’m gonna go babe, I love you.” You promise, waiting for him to say it back before you’re picking up Carlos’ call, swinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Ay, ay, vamos. We’re gonna be late again.” Carlos says as soon as the line connects. You roll your eyes, walking to the elevator.

“Piss off, we were only late once. I’ll be down in less than five.” You promise, hanging up before he says anything else. By the time you get to the lobby Carlos is not even there, which only makes you scoff in feigned annoyance and disbelief.

As soon as Carlos pulls up you open the back door to drop your bag there before you’re slipping in the passenger seat.

“You were definitely not here yet.” You tell the Spanish driver as you pull the seat belt on. He seems unfazed as he grins at you, tapping his steering wheel with his fingers before looking over you. You can’t help but smile at the way he’s looking at you, getting you to playfully roll his eyes, the sudden annoyance you felt towards Bastien gone.

“Buenos dias,” Good morning, Carlos says with a grin, and he’s like this every morning, obnoxiously happy and filled with too much energy. Your eyelids are still heavy, but in your defence Carlos’ mornings started much earlier than yours as he was usually packed with workouts, training, and other things.

“Morning,” You say, letting out a sigh as you lean back on the chair. “Thanks for picking me up.” You say with a smile. Carlos nods, humming as he changes gears.

“No worries. I got you coffee.” He says nodding to the Starbucks cup in the cupholder. You look over it sceptically, always being overly picky about your coffee. Before you say anything though Carlos is chipping in, pulling out of the driveway as he speaks. “Don’t worry- it has almond milk with cinnamon and less sugar.” He says, not even glancing over at you as he focuses on turning into the main road. You’re a bit surprised that he remembers your order but you simply murmur a thanks and take a sip, hoping it would help your morning become a little bit more bearable.

“Are you excited for the unveiling?” You ask Carlos, setting your cup of coffee back on the cup holder. He’s focused on the road, humming softly as he thinks about the question.

“Yeah, yeah. I am really excited to be honest. It’s always cool to have something that you’ve worked on announced- and we’re so close to testing and for the season to start.” he says quickly glancing over to you before looking back at the road. “What about you? It’s your first time.” He chuckles, slowly stopping the car as you reach a red light. He turns his body slightly towards you, waiting for your answer and you give him a nod.

“I’m really excited actually.” You laugh softly. “I find it so cool that I’m finally on the other side of it. I remember waiting and having countdowns on my phone for all the unveilings.” You say smiling at him. “I am a bit bummed that we chose valentine’s day though.” You say a bit sheepishly. “My boyfriend’s coming over and I was supposed to take the day off.” Carlos shifts his attention to the road again as the light switches to green and there is a short silence as the car starts to move.

“You can always take the day off.” Carlos suggests with a smirk, knowing you wouldn’t and you shake your head, just proving his point.

“No way in hell I am missing seeing the whole thing in person. What if I never get to see it again?” You ask but Carlos just chuckles.

“Oh please, this definitely won’t be your last one.” He says it with conviction which makes you smile. “But, you can always invite him. Think you might be able to bring a guest no?” Carlos says and you give him a small shrug.

“I’m gonna ask but I don’t think he wants to go. He doesn’t care about these things.” You echo your boyfriend’s words from earlier and you can see Carlos stop himself from frowning too deeply and you fiddle with your bracelet.

“What do you mean? It’s important to you ” He states plainly, “He should care that you care about it no?”

You don’t really have an answer to that so you decide to just shrug, this time shifting your attention to the street, suddenly uncomfortable with the shift of the conversation. Carlos seems to pick up on this because he quickly changes the topic about how he had gone golfing with Lando the day before and how the younger boy was still horrible at it still. You appreciate the change and you easily go with it, leaving the thought of Bastien behind.

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

Bastien arrives the night before the unveiling and you’re ecstatic to see him again as you hadn’t seen him in almost two months which is the longest you both had been apart. The moment you see him exit the arrival gate you’re rushing to him and giving him the biggest hug. You can’t stop smiling until you get to your apartment with him, and it’s all good until you wake up the next morning.

“Where are you going?” You’re already half dressed when Bastien wakes up, but you had already woken up late from staying up with Bastien.

“Sorry babe. I told you I had to go to work this morning.” You say softly, coming close to give him a quick kiss. You pull away to see Bastien frowning still. “I was going to wake you up right before I left to say goodbye. Carlos is already waiting for me downstairs.” You explain, giving him another kiss.

Bastien gives you a nod, looking over you. “We’re still going to the showcasing?” Bastien asks and you nod as you put on your shirt properly.

“I thought we agreed to go last night.” You say, eyes meeting his. It’s clear that he wants to argue, already sitting up.

“I just think it’s nicer if we do something else.” He says and you let out a small sigh.

“I told you I took the day off tomorrow.” You say softly, looking over him.

“Well, tomorrow isn’t Valentine’s day.” He says and it's killing you how inflexible he was being. Of course valentine’s day was a nice day to celebrate but for you what mattered is that you both were together.

“Bastien, I have to go. I don’t have time to argue” You say, pocketing your phone, feeling slightly annoyed that you were having the same argument for what felt like the hundredth time. You’re turning to take your things when Bastien butts in again.

“Never pegged you to be the one to put work before relationships.” He says which stops you at your tracks.

“You’re joking.” You murmur, starting to feel your patience draw thin. “I’ve joined so many of your work things even though it’s not really my thing, and you used to postpone our dates all the time.” You say, remembering all the business events you joined during your last year of university. It was nice, and you got free food, but you could care less about all the finance speakers you had to sit through.

“It’s different.” Bastien argues which makes you roll your eyes. Your phone is vibrating as a call comes in, a reminder that Carlos was waiting downstairs.

“It really isn’t.” You say, already done with the conversation.

“What time do you need me to show up later?” Bastien asks, more annoyed than anything else. There’s this tone in his voice that you suddenly find aggravating, and you’re unsure if you even want him there anymore.

“I’ll come home first and then we can go together, ” You’re already grabbing your bags, your phone is vibrating once more, Carlos calling you for the second time already. “I really need to go.” You don’t even sound apologetic this time. “Have fun and keep me updated with what you do. I really need to go. I love you.”

The day is busy and you don’t even realise Bastien hadn’t texted you until you text him to let him know you’re on the way home. You don’t think much of it as you’d talk to him when you got home. You’re tired from running around so the argument from the earlier morning is at the back of your mind. Only until you find yourself home by yourself, Bastien nowhere to be seen.

You text him thrice before you call him countless times after. Hours pass and you need to get ready to go to the venue and you’re starting to feel sick. You had no clue where Bastien was, and you were starting to get worried, not even getting ready as you waited on your couch with your legs pressed against your chest. It’s only half an hour before the event when you get a response from him and the words leave you stunned.

‘Bumped into a friend, i’ll see you later tonight. Enjoy the event. Xxx’

You’re out of it when you arrive at the unveiling. Thankfully you’re not late as the doors had opened before the unveiling. You ask your taxi to drop you off at the front of the gates, not minding much to have to walk a bit once you notice the slight traffic. Tom had managed to get you a guest seat but you’re dreading going in to sit by yourself, but something in the corner of your vision catches your eyes. There are several fans there, clearly there in hopes to catch quick glimpses of anybody coming or leaving. You can’t help but walk up to them.

“Hey, are you here for the announcement?” You’re almost by the entrance and the girl is by herself, clearly nervous. She’s dressed up with a McLaren shirt and she’s holding a hat too. There are others around but most seem to be in groups.

“Yeah, are you too?” She asks before she’s looking over you. You were dressed up quite nicely, wanting to show the part of being a guest. For a second you doubt if it's okay or not but you’re wanting to do a nice gesture.

“Actually I am, what’s your name?” You ask softly. The introductions are quick and you learn that she’s been following McLaren for years and that she had been supporting Carlos since his Renault years too. You’re endeared, seeing a bit of you in her and you even feel a bit excited as you speak. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to join inside?” You offer. The girl’s eyes go wide and she looks at you in disbelief.

“My boyfriend couldn’t make it, so I have an extra ticket.” You smile and she’s quickly nodding, speechless.

“Thank you so much.” She says as you both start walking. When you get to the entrance you’re flashing your tickets and there is a slight hesitation from the security guard until you show him your company badge too and before you know it you’re in.

Tom was a gem but he wasn’t a miracle worker so you both had to sit somewhere in the back, but the excitement was buzzing from you both. A big part of you was disappointed that Bastien wasn’t there but seeing somebody else as excited as you warmed a small part in your chest.

The unveiling goes smoothly, and you can’t help but smile when Carlos and Lando come into the light, soon sharing some words as well. The car looks beautiful and the thought of seeing it on track soon and racing had you buzzing. Everybody seemed just as excited, most people leaning on the edge of their seats. All your work felt more real now and the season was starting soon, and you felt impatient for the season to kick off.

You chat softly with Jess the whole time, soon explaining a bit what you did and explaining to her that you were part of the team. Once everybody starts to disperse and get out of their seats you offer her to walk up to Lando and Carlos, giving her a warning that it might take a bit of time to be able to get to them since they were probably going to be busy with all the sponsors and guests. It’s when you’re both getting up for your seats when you notice that Carlos and Lando are actually walking up to you both. They both look a bit confused when they spot Jess next to you but they smile at her anyways, greeting and introducing themselves.

“Oh my god. Hi- it’s really cool to finally meet you both. I’ve always been the biggest McLaren fan.” She says with a wide smile before explaining that you had invited her in. The boys simply grin and nod, you give them both a nudge with a marker and soon they’re signing her things.

“It was nice meeting you and thanks for following us! I hope we can make this an exciting season.” Carlos grins at her before turning to you. “We gotta run to Zak before he tells us off for sneaking off but we’ll meet a bit later yeah?” Carlos asks, already nudging Lando to follow along as they both begin to walk off. You give them a quick smile and nod before you turn to Jess who’s again thanking you profusely.

You hang around with Jess up until the end of the event, introducing her to some other colleagues that you bumped along the way. You might have said a white lie or two that Jess was your friend and a big fan, just in case you’d get in trouble for technically bringing a stranger, but thankfully nobody questions it too much.

You end up exchanging your contact information with her before you’re heading off to the back, deciding to help with some things since you had the time anyways. Tom catches you just as you’re slipping into the back of the auditorium.

“What are you doing here hm? You’re not supposed to work.” he scolds playfully and you can’t help but give a sheepish laugh.

“I wanted to help out and Lando and Carlos told me to meet up with them after.” You explain before telling Tom a lie about how your boyfriend wasn’t feeling well to come. “But I brought a friend, I hope that’s okay.” You say with a smile and Tom rolls his eyes, saying of course. You hear a door from down the hall open and you look over when you hear somebody speak up.

“Ah, there you are.” Lando says, still in his racing suit as he walks towards you with a grin. Tom is soon excusing himself, saying that he had to work on something. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Lando asks once Tom’s out. You shrug with a small smile just as Carlos peaks into the hallway, he’s also still in his racing suit. As soon as he comes up to you both he’s echoing the same question as Lando.

“He wasn’t in the mood to join.” You shrug, “Don’t know where he is.” You say, trying your best to hide the annoyance wash over you at the reminder that he had ditched you. Carlos is looking at you like he wants to say something but he stays silent, and your eyes linger a bit on him but Lando is soon speaking up.

“Carlos and I were planning to grab food. Do you wanna join?” Lando offers.

The Spanish driver is quick to butt in. “You don’t have plans after with your boyfriend?” He asks sceptically and you shake your head. Carlos raises his brow slightly before nodding, “Okay, you’re joining then. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You wait for both guys to change into their clothes before you’re heading to the parking space with them. They’re rattling on about having to talk to too many sponsors and guests and you can’t help but smile, shaking your head in amusement.

“So who am I hitching a ride from?” You ask when you realise they both had driven to the office. Lando is quick to take the responsibility, wanting to prove that he was a better driver than Carlos.

“Not true, but I’ll drop you off later, yeah?” Carlos says as he’s going to his car. You give him a nod before you’re heading to Lando, already teasing him to not crash the car and to make sure you both made it to dinner.

Funnily enough dinner ends up in the park. The guys had not thought about the date so they hadn’t reserved any table and of course Valentine’s day only meant one thing, most places were packed to the brim. You had suggested McDonalds and the two had grinned, looking at each other and agreeing that it was a good evening to have a cheat day.

“Can’t believe every single restaurant we called and drove to was full.” Lando says as he sits on the table’s bench, swinging his leg over it to settle down next to you. Carlos is sitting across you both, already digging through his McDonald’s bag.

“I mean, it is valentine’s day. It’s one of the busiest days.” You chuckle, “You two should’ve thought it through.” you jokingly tease, already grabbing one of your fries.

“I’m sorry- last time I celebrated valentine’s day I think I just spent it at home with my ex.” Lando says defensively, his hands are up and you can’t help but roll your eyes at him. “Do you always reserve for valentine’s?” he asks you and you give him a smirk.

“Never had to do the reservation. One of the only privileges of being a girl.” You joke, sticking your tongue out. Lando scoffs but murmurs a makes sense before he’s turning to Carlos.

“When’s the last time you celebrated Valentine’s?” He asks Carlos in between bites of his food. Carlos looks at him before instinctively looking at you.

“Really? That’s the last time?” You ask quite surprised, not managing to bite back your tongue, Carlos scowls at your reaction. You bite the inside of your cheek but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a laugh, “Sorry, I’m just surprised, really.” You laugh softly.

“What’s so surprising about that?” Carlos groans and Lando is stifling a laugh too. You shake your head but Carlos nudges you under the table with his foot. “Come on now. Tell me!” He insists and you’re laughing again.

“I don’t know. You’re an F1 driver now, you’re good looking, funny, why wouldn’t you be going out on Valentine’s day?” You question, smiling at him. You hold eye contact for a second before Carlos is looking down at his food. The lights in the park are quite dimmed and a part of you wonders whether Carlos was blushing or not, but you don’t play around with that thought too much.

“You weren’t surprised when I said I haven’t been on a Valentine’s date in a while.” Lando says, clearly too offended to notice Carlos’ change in demeanour. You laugh at his comment and you’re shaking your head.

“I didn’t mean it that way and you know it.” You state with a smile before focusing back on your food.

“So,” Lando starts off after a beat of silence. “What did you guys do for valentine’s? Apart from Carlos making the reservations?” he asks, still not letting the topic go. You think Carlos is about to tell him to shut up but Carlos looks at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Which one was the last one?” He asks, thinking as he scratches his chin. “Was it when we went on that boat dinner?” Carlos asks curiously and you need to think for a second before you’re nodding.

“Yeah- it was after your announcement in Toro Rosso.” You say, resting your chin on your hand. It was nice, you both had taken a trip to the caribbean and spent a few days there.

“I booked that dinner like two months in advance just to be sure.” Carlos chuckles before looking at Lando. “It was nice, but expensive.” He says before thinking a bit more. “It was worth it though, we stayed the night in the boat no?.” Carlos says and you give him a nod as confirmation.

The rest of the dinner is nice, but there is a small nagging voice inside your head, wondering where Bastien was. You check your phone a bit too many times in hopes to get a text but it’s radio silent, you find yourself talking a lot, wanting to distract yourself and to push Bastien to the back of your mind and it kind of works. Time passes and before you know it you’re getting into Carlos’ car, putting on your seatbelt as you shift a bit. You had thanked Lando for asking you to join and told him to drive safely before he had headed off to his own car.

“God I am so full. I always eat too much.” You say, resting your hands on your belly, you’re trying to fill the silence, it was late and you didn’t want to let your mind wander. Carlos on the other hand is quiet and you look over him, curious about his silence. “Thanks for driving me home” You say just as he is starting the car. The lack of answer makes you nervous and you shift a bit in your seat.

“Are you okay?” Carlos finally replies and the question catches you a bit off guard. You look back at him, tilting your head slightly.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“I mean, you told me Bastien had agreed to join and he didn’t” He says, not making a move to pull out the car. You feel a bit nervous now, having thought that the conversation had been left behind in the office.

“He wasn’t in the mood so he texted me that he changed his mind.” You say, hoping it was truthful enough. You’re waiting for Carlos to pull out of the parking spot but he doesn’t. Instead he takes the opportunity to turn to you a bit more, wanting to face you properly.

“He texted you?” Carlos asks, a bit confused. You shift a bit in your seat, looking at him properly as well.

“He wasn’t home when I got there to get ready so,” Your voice is a bit softer this time and Carlos looks more than unimpressed.

“Okay.” he says before turning to look ahead of him again, this time changing gears to pull out from parking. “I’m here if you wanna talk about it, or if you’re not comfortable, talk to Lando, or any of your friends.” Carlos murmurs, glancing over to you again. “Don’t keep things to yourself too much. I know you tend to do that.” Carlos says with a small smile before he’s driving you home.

It’s not that you don’t want to answer but you don’t really have the words. The silence in the car is ringing in your ears and you can’t help but finally let the bitterness and hurt settle in your chest. You blame it on being tired, or on Carlos’ words but you feel your eyes get glossy as he reaches the road. You look up, wanting to stop your eyes from overflowing. It’s embarrassing really (and a bit pathetic, you think), crying over your boyfriend in front of your ex.

You’re frustrated more than anything, not knowing why Bastien had decided to ditch at the last minute. It was understandable that he wasn’t into motorsports or racing but you couldn’t comprehend why he couldn’t make a small effort to go for you. You had supported him in everything and it was starting to hurt that you didn’t feel like the effort was returned. Were you doing something wrong?

Carlos doesn’t say anything for a while, simply putting on the radio as you quietly wipe your cheeks.“I’m sorry,” You murmur after a bit, trying your best to recollect yourself.

“You’re okay. Did you forget how much you used to cry in front of me?” Carlos teasigly says and you roll your eyes, wiping your cheeks.

To be fair he was right. Even before you two had dated he had been your closest friend. The amount of times he had seen you cry about boys, your family, school (or anything really) were endless. You hated crying by yourself and the moment Carlos had discovered this he had always tried to be there.

He would always take you on drives, following the road as long as he could to let you cry it out. Most times he was quiet, whilst other times he was cursing off whoever had upset you with you.

You don’t remember the last time you’ve cried like this. You had been so busy after moving and as always your family barely had time to catch up with you. Bastien was always busy and your calls were usually catch ups about the day, but it was hard to talk to him about your feelings as he was quick to say that it was going to be okay and to dwell on things too much. All your friends were also busy with their own internships or work so hadn’t had any time to properly speak or think about how you were feeling.

There’s a weird new feeling mixing in your chest and it takes you a moment to realise what it is.

You’re watching Carlos drive as you let out sniffles and continue wiping your cheeks. You missed your best friend.

The thought of it only makes you tear up more so recollecting yourself doesn’t really happen and you’re dreading having to go home to a probably empty apartment like this. “How far are we?” You ask quietly and Carlos simply shrugs.

“As far as you need us to be.” he says and you look at him quietly before nodding and looking back at the road.

You don’t really say anything back but you know you don’t need to.

fin.

read chapter six here

a/n: helloooo hope you enjoyed. what do you guys think? did bastien have the right to be upset? did that mean it was okay for him to ditch? are we happy to see carlos and reader connecting again?? also please feel free to leave constructive criticism and your thoughts, it really helps <3 i'll try my best to update by next week.

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if you are interested in reading more check out my masterlist!

#moonlight #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz junior #cs55 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #anywayss #fluff #enemies to friends to lovers #it is 1am idek why im posting this so late #this is my second time preparing the post since my tumblr literally crashed lmao

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rayofsunas · 4 years ago

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s/o who dies.

A/n: listennnn, I wasn't going to write something dark, but then I unregretfully decided to listen to edgy/dark audios and I was suddenly in the mood to write this so yeah lmao. also, guess what? I'm planning on making a discord server right after posting this! so, be on the lookout for that when I get it all sorted out. also, note for Scaramouche's that the reader inserts tend to lean more femininely versed (I hope that's okay), the only reasons why I do that is because one I simp and I'm female AND two since I am doing a mini-series for Scara, I've kind of based his imagines/fics around that universe (baby daddy universe). I haven't started his yet, but consider these part of that series' universe. anyways as always thank you for requesting anon and enjoy! <333

Summary: you die + how the boys cope afterward.

Parings: Albedo/Gn! Reader, Xiao/Gn! Reader, Scaramouche/Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, death, poison, illness/cancer, murder, arson, obsessive behavior

Word count: 2.1k

Albedo

"You need to keep this on your head." Your lover said for the one-hundredth time, placing the cold cloth on your forehead once again after taking it off only seconds earlier.

"This is pointless," You said, no longer wanting to ignore nor hide behind the invisible thick curtains of the obvious death sentence approaching. "My body rejected the medicine the first twice doses, what's a third time going to do?" You asked, knowing Albedo wouldn't answer; your hope was to knock some sense into his thick skull. but he was too worried trying to ignore the obvious as you had previously been doing, not anymore though.

This was saddening to watch, both Albedo's unfolding and the girl who accidentally poisoned you, whimpering into Sucrose's shoulder. She was only a young girl, barely seventeen when she was chosen to work under Sucrose and your boyfriend. She was very good at Alchemy and luckily had a desire to practice the craft. But unfortunately, she hadn't paid much attention when it came to Surcrose's educational poison lesson and had unknowingly mixed up poisonous liquids and materials.

After tipping over some clutter in Albedo's office and knocking over a test tube laying unsealed on the counter, you had realized the contents spilled on your skin, bleaching into your pores. You had been tasked with bringing the famed alchemist and his assistant some vials and materials for the collection of a rare butterfly they had found. It was both telling and obvious that something was wrong when you never showed up with the required materials requested and it was already too late hours later when the chief Alchemist, his assistant, and Alchemist in training came bounding down the stairs of Albedo's home laboratory.

It didn't take long for the trio to realize something was wrong. Sucrose had found the vile on the floor, most of its contents spilled and in a little puddle, plus your state on a nearby lounge chair was obvious; slumped awkwardly, forehead visibly sweating, eyes closed, breathing raspily.

You accepted the first doses of the supposed nullifying medicine without hesitation, just wanting the numbing feeling to go away. But when it never kicked in you decided it would be best to save the medicine, because it wasn't working. Your time was coming.

"Since the medicine is taking immediate effect, you should try to get the contents out of your system," He said, reaching out for you. Badly you wanted to argue that the medicine wasn't working at all, but he wasn't listening and already has his lean arms wrapped around your middle, helping gently lift and guide you over to the sink.

You hear materials being shoved to the side and soon enough you had your head dangling over the sink, shaking hands gripping the metalled edge tightly. Soon enough, Albedo's hand was on your back rubbing up and down, hoping to comfort you, it wasn't working though. You could only think about your death, what the other side would look like. Could there even be heaven or hell, maybe a place in between, maybe nowhere...?

As soon as you felt the urge to vomit, you did, and despite it being utterly disgusting Albedo seemed to welcome it happily. He took this as something good, but it only worried you when you saw the reddish hues in the bile.

"I think they should leave." You muttered acknowledging Sucrose and Elizabeth, the taste of gooey, metal only becoming more apparent. The blonde agreed, nodding and muttering "Okay."

As Sucrose lead Elizabeth towards the stairs, the pair heard you say. "Goodbye Sucrose, Elizabeth." Which only seemed to make the young girl wail louder.

You sighed sadly once the silence was back. Just your thoughts of death, and Albedo's slowly crushing heart.

"You should probably leave soon as well. I don't want you to be here when I go." Albedo frowned at your statement, head shaking.

"Don't say things like that."

Of course, he'd say that. Why did he feel the need to ignore this when it would only come back to hurt him even more later on when you were gone?

"You're the smartest man I know and we both know where this is heading," You said, head feeling much heavier than before. It was getting closer to your time. "I'm going to die, and you can't do anything about it."

"I'm not leaving your side. We promised to stick together through everything, you can't ask me to leave."

"I guess... But promise me this."

"When I go, stop blaming Elizabeth. It was an accident..." You said sincerely. Albedo wanted to make a fuss about it, tell you he'd never been able to forgive her. But for you, he would try. If it was your list desire, your last wish, he'd make it come true. Though it would be difficult. Accidental or not, she was the reason you were leaving him here, alone.

"Okay, I'll try..." He said honestly.

"Thank you," You said, letting out a shaking breath you had been holding for a very long time. Now you felt much more peaceful. "And since I know you stubbornly won't leave," You started, finally turning away from the sink to look into his cerulean eyes. "At least hold my hand."

"Of course, love."

even a year after your death, no matter how hard he tried, there was still this nagging feeling every time he looked at Elizabeth

he wanted too badly forgive her, but he couldn't

she had, although accidental, taken the one person that meant so much to him and he'd never forgive

Albedo is gonna be distant towards everyone he knows and it's completely purposeful

he doesn't like the pitiful gazes that people send his way and he hates that all the captains stared at him at your funeral

obviously, some questioned if he was able to stay in the field

he hadn't taken any time off, even when Jean advised he was welcome and that it would be best

tbh, albedo's going to have a hard time for a while

Xiao

Why did it have to be you? Why not him? He'd feel much better knowing you could live another day, after all, he'd been living a very long time.

But no, the fallen Archons, Gods, Yaksha had chosen you to join them. He wished that weren't the case

Humans and their pathetic vessels... So weak, he thought. Allowing something like cancer to beat them.

No matter how harsh it sounded, he didn't despise you, no. It wasn't your fault. You didn't ask for this. He just knew that if you were a godly being this wouldn't have happened like this or at least not so soon; Xiao had known Gods that had terminal illnesses to live years. Why couldn't you be like them?

He hated watching you lie there in that bed, immobile, sickly, and tired, and all you could say was that everything was going to be alright, that he'd be alright.

But it wasn't. He wouldn't be okay without you. He would struggle daily, fall deeper into a hole. You were the light of his life, the only light in his life. And you were gone, just like that. Turning external scars into internal ones tattered all over his dying heart.

Xiao for the longest time has been by himself, so the people of Liyue know it'll be harder for him to overcome this, no matter what he says or does to prove otherwise

Zhongli in particular knows how hard this will be for his friend

his first and probably last love, dead, gone in the blink of an eye

he'll continue fighting all the monsters he crosses, becoming even more violent when he does so, trying his best to get rid of this stupid sickly feeling of heartbreak

but it won't go away, no matter what he does, no matter how absurd

he just wants the feeling to go away, he despises that feeling so much

if you have a secret place somewhere, like in the mountains, Zhongli often finds him there, wallowing in invisible self-pity

"You know they wouldn't want you to be like this." Zhongli would say, only trying to help

but it doesn't

it only enrages Xiao, even more, fuels him to push everyone out of his life again instead of letting them in like he'd done in your presence

Scaramouche

How dare you. How dare you leave him like this. Alone, nonetheless with a toddler to raise who kept crying for her mommy. He couldn't do this without you, he didn't know how to raise a child, speak to her with the gentle care that you did. That was your expertise but now he'd be doing it solo.

And never again would he entrust someone who he cares about, into ignorant, incompetent arms. Never again will he ever allow any member of the Fatui to watch after his daughter; no matter their rank or position. They had one job while he was away doing business in Liyue. Guard your home twenty-four seven, accompany you into Inazuma's port town should you need anything, watch after his daughter while she plays happily in the luscious Inazuma fields. And they couldn't do that. All he gave them was one simple task, watch and keep you and your daughter safe. Instead, they slacked off, probably drunk in some bar while you were being brutally attacked by murderous mercenaries, left to fend for you and your daughter, only to die protecting her and leave your home to be severely burned.

He knew those idiotic Fatui soldiers were incompetent the moment he stepped foot into the harbor and found that everyone seemed to quiet down. Especially the eerily silent soldiers flanked on each side to welcome him home; he was the highest-ranking soldier in the land of Inazuma after all. Not a single one bothered to step forward and tell him what was wrong, what they all criminally allowed happen. Scaramouche only realized what had happened when he was mere minutes away from arriving home, his daughter had come running from his widowed mother's arms, the sight of smoke rising in the air, from the direction of his home. You were nowhere to be seen.

It all happened so fast, in the blink of an eye. His daughter was clinging to his shirt and his mother only stared with tears of pity.

It didn't take long for the puzzle pieces to be put together and before he knew it, Scaramouche was standing in front of his home, part of it burnt to a crisp and black.

He didn't need to ask what happened, he didn't need to know where you were, because he already knew. What he didn't know was who exactly had done this. But he was going to find out, now.

Incompetent, selfish, bastards. They would all pay for this. The lazy piggish Fatui soldiers who he should've never trusted with such a simple task and the thieves who had murdered you. They all had it rightfully coming.

Scaramouche hates the world after he lost you

he hates it so much and can't understand how this had happened

he's not a good person, so he blames it on karma and those stupid idiots who couldn't protect you

ngl, he's not gonna be around much after your death... his mother would argue that he should be here to raise your daughter, because she's also in pain and doesn't understand that this isn't some game of hide and seek this time

instead, he's focused and driven by revenge

he doesn't listen to a word anybody says, he's much more dangerous than before, and he only trusts his judgment

anyone trying to get him to stop his mission, is someone who doesn't want to see him happy he thinks (though that's not true at all. they hate that he is obsessive over this) but he will personally put a stop to that

and he'll only return home to his daughter and mother when he finds who did this and they along with their bloodline is exterminated

while he's gone, the remainder of his family is relocated somewhere he knows they'll be safe, for example, even though he despises childe, he knows his mom and daughter will be safe with his family

sorry, but Scaramouche will hold this deep-rooted hatred and love for you after you die

yes, he still loves and misses you dearly, but he hates you for leaving him alone, hates that although it wasn't intentional and out of your control, that you were gone

no matter how hard you tried to fight, it was selfish of you to leave him like this

he's not going to stop until he believes whoever was behind this is dead

and in his case, he'll stop believing when he chooses, even if they are innocent/guilty, he'll keep going

3.19.21, rayofsunas

#rayofsunas #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genhsin impact scenarios #albedo #albedo x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader

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helloalycia · 4 years ago

Text

my patient’s neighbour [two] // wanda maximoff

summary: as you spend more time with your patient's neighbour, you come to realise that your crush may be getting too much

warning/s: none, just fluff tbh

author's note: i’m so glad you guys enjoyed the first part! here’s the next bit :)

When Sunday rolled around, I did everything in my power to make it the perfect day for Anna. We went out for breakfast at a café around the corner, a stroll around the park, then I made her lunch before she conked out afterwards, napping in her bedroom. I took that as my chance to decorate the living-area with birthday decorations. Nothing too much as I knew she'd kill me if I went overboard, but little things like a banner, some balloons and streamers.

I told Wanda to come at this time, too, and she showed up with a bag of groceries and a pretty smile on her face.

"Here, let me help," I said, already moving to take the bag off her. "How are you?"

"I'm good," she said, closing the door behind her and following me into the kitchen. Her smile widened when she saw the decorations. "Y/N, this is lovely! Anna is going to love it!"

"You think?" I asked, spinning around and doing a once over of the living-area. "It's not too much? I know she'll hate if I do too much."

"It's just the right amount," Wanda reassured, glancing at me. "How has she been today?"

We both began to unpack the groceries as we talked.

"Really good actually," I said with a nod. "I treated her to breakfast at that café she likes. We went to the park, fed the ducks, had a nice stroll. Then I made her some lunch and she's napping which leaves us the perfect time to crack on with dinner."

Wanda chuckled. "Great." She paused, making me look to her to see her smile fading. Nervously, she asked, "Did her granddaughter call?"

I sighed quietly and Wanda seemed to know what that meant without me saying anything further.

"It's okay, we'll just have to make this the best meal ever," she said, not letting it get to her.

"We will," I agreed, before looking to the food on the table. "So, chef. Where do we start?"

Wanda and I spent the next hour prepping dinner, a beef stew called Solyanka, as it would require two hours to cook on the stove so we were starting early to make sure it would be ready in time.

I was chopping some onions as she prepared the beef, but I couldn't help myself from glancing at her every two seconds, still filled with concern because of her cast and minor injuries.

"You should take a picture, it'll last longer," she said teasingly, making me look up to see her watching me with a stifled smile.

"Sorry," I mumbled, shaking my head and looking back to my chopping board.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently.

I chewed on my lip as I glanced at her wrist again, before meeting her gaze. "How did it happen?"

"I already told you," she reminded me playfully, trying to lighten the mood, but I was still fretful. "It happened on a mission."

"Yeah, but how?" I asked again, hoping she understood what I meant.

She seemed reluctant to share, face scrunching up with thought, before looking down to her own chopping board. I thought she wouldn't tell me, but then she spoke.

"I can't tell you too much," she started, shrugging, "since it was a confidential mission. But basically, I was undercover when my target recognised me and we got into a fight."

Watching her with the utmost attention, I nodded, imagining it in my head.

"It wasn't difficult or anything, but it surprised me, y'know?" She looked to me with a smile, as if trying to make it sound less scarier than it was. "The guy, the target, he managed to get in few good hits. And he sprained my wrist. But it's alright."

I wasn't as amused as she was, wincing at the thought of her being in a fight. "Are you sure you're alright?"

She tilted her head knowingly. "I'm sure, Y/N. It's my job."

Shaking my head, I looked back down to my chopping board and continued chopping the onion. "I don't know how you can do that as a job..."

"Well, it's rewarding," she said like it was obvious. "Why do you spend most of your week caring for the elderly?"

"It's rewarding," I said without hesitation, before realising what she'd done and looking her way.

She was smiling cockily, making me roll my eyes and laugh.

"Okay, I see your point," I gave in. "But still. It's a dangerous job what you do. Just be careful, yeah?"

"Always am," she promised. And I wanted to believe her, but the cast on her wrist said otherwise.

—

"It smells like home, devochki, spasibo (girls, thank you)," Anna said from her place at the table. "Are you sure you don't want me to help?"

"We're sure, Anna," Wanda called back to her. "I'm just putting the food into a serving bowl and Y/N is grabbing some glasses. You sit and wait like the patient woman I know you are."

Anna mumbled something in Russian which I didn't understand, but it seemed to make Wanda chuckle as she rolled her eyes.

It was finally time for dinner and the stew had turned out beautifully, not that I had doubts since Wanda didn't seem like one to kid around with cooking.

As she was readying it for the table, I was setting everything up and all that was left were the glasses. But, of course (and oddly enough, since Anna was shorter than I), they were stored on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard and just out of my reach.

In hindsight, I probably could have grabbed a stool and stood on it, but I was too lazy, so I went on my tip-toes and stretched with all my might. The tips of my fingers brushed against a glass and I attempted to move it towards me, unable to see if I was actually doing anything since it was too high. After a couple of tries, I managed to bring it forward, but my stupid self flicked it too hard and it came tumbling off the shelf and towards the counter.

I braced myself for the sound of glass smashing, but instead, a wondrous red energy wrapped itself around the glass and kept it suspended mid-fall.

"Very clever," Wanda said sarcastically, appearing directly beside me. Her accent was daringly teasing.

I looked up and saw her smirking at me with amusement, right hand raised and aimed at the glass. Red tendrils of energy glowed around her hand and the glass; I widened my eyes a little, amazed at how easy she made it look. Though I knew she had powers, I'd never actually seen her use them up close and personal. It was stunning.

"I totally knew you were going to do that," I played it cool, cheeks flushing as she set the glass on the counter.

"Mhm, sure you did," she played along with a melodious laugh, before pressing her front to my back without warning and reaching to grab two more glasses. "Here, I got it."

My body tensed at the feeling of her unexpectedly so close to me. My mouth went dry, her warmth emanating from her and washing over me with the scent of her perfume. Did she always smell so good?

When she grabbed all three glasses, she didn't seem to notice the effect she had on me (unless she did and kept quiet for her own amusement).

"Think you can grab the food without dropping it?" she asked, quirking an entertained brow.

Still distracted by her perfume, I nodded and cleared my throat. "Food. Right. Yeah."

As I stirred the stew to mix everything thoroughly, I felt my heart rate return to its normal pace and told myself to chill out. Wanda just happened to be an extremely pretty individual who was kind and thoughtful and funny. It wasn't a big deal.

When I was sure I wouldn't make a fool of myself, I returned to the dining table with a pot of stew and set it down on the placemat.

"Priyatnogo appetita (enjoy your meal)," I said, trying not to stumble over my pronunciation.

Both Anna and Wanda raised their brows with matching surprised smiles on their faces.

"You said that perfectly, Y/N!" Wanda said encouragingly, as I took a seat to the right of Anna at the head of the table.

"I see you've been practicing," Anna added, looking to me with an endearing gaze. "A present in itself. Thank you, milaya (sweetie)."

I smiled bashfully. "I have to keep up with you both somehow, right?"

Anna chuckled as Wanda gave me a brilliant smile. Something in my chest stirred as she did, and I was forced to look away, though my own smile didn't fade.

"So, Y/N and I put this together for you and I'm sure you'll know what it is," Wanda said, before serving up a bowl for Anna.

"Solyanka," Anna exclaimed with delight. "Devushki (girls), this looks and smells amazing." She paused, glancing between us both with a grateful smile. "Since you've both been here, this place... it's beginning to feel alive again."

To my surprise, she teared up and began to laugh, using her napkin to pat the corner of her eyes. I rested my hand on hers, squeezing it gently and giving her a small smile.

"I appreciate this very much," she continued, before squeezing my hand and letting go to grab her spoon. "I can't wait to try it."

The three of us dug into our stew and Anna loved it, talking about the first time she ever had it as a kid and how it was one of her favourite dishes. The rest of the meal went by wonderfully, with Anna looking as happy as ever and Wanda listening to her intently. I was listening, too, but my gaze did end up wandering to Wanda as she sat there animatedly, nodding along and smiling to Anna.

For some reason, she was ethereal tonight, though she looked like she always did. Her long brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and she wore a loose tee shirt over some jeans. Nothing fancy, but she pulled it off so well. Rings adorned her fingers as she played with them thoughtlessly, and it caught my eye before I got distracted by her cast on her left wrist.

She'd said she was okay, but it still worried me. It wasn't my right to worry, but she was my friend. I was concerned. She could take care of herself, but that wouldn't put the ache in my heart at ease.

As if she could hear my concerns, her eyes flickered to mine, a kaleidoscope of blue, green and gold. She sent me a reassuring glance before looking back to Anna with focus. I chewed on my lower lip, trying not to let my worry get the best of me, before looking back to Anna.

Towards the end of the meal, after we'd eaten and were merely conversing, Anna's landline rang in the apartment.

"I'll get it," Wanda said, already standing up to grab the phone from its cradle.

Anna and I watched as she answered the phone with a friendly 'hello', before a surprised expression appeared on her face.

"Sure, I'll pass it on now," Wanda was saying before approaching the table and stopping by Anna. Her expression softened as she said to Anna, "It's Sasha."

Anna's expression fell at the mention of her granddaughter. She nodded slightly, before standing up and grabbing her cane to balance. Accepting the phone, she began to walk away into her bedroom. Wanda and I heard her say a faint 'hello' before she closed the door behind her.

"Her granddaughter rang?" I asked with mild disbelief.

"It is her birthday," Wanda pointed out, returning to her seat.

"Bit late into the day though, isn't it?" I retorted, pulling a face. "Almost like the day is over, in fact."

"Sounding a little judgemental there, Y/N," Wanda teased, leaning forward into the palm of her hands and watching me.

"I'm not," I said with an eye roll. "I just think she should show her grandmother some respect. Who does she think she is?"

I paused as Wanda gave me a knowing look, then winced.

"Okay, I heard it that time," I admitted, making her laugh.

"I get it," she said, nodding slightly. "Maybe she's finally starting to realise though."

I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "I guess... For Anna's sake, I hope so."

Wanda and I talked amongst ourselves until Anna returned silently, hushing our conversation. She returned the phone to its cradle before taking a seat at the head of the table. Wanda and I exchanged looks before I decided to speak, noticing Anna wouldn't.

"Is Sasha doing okay?" I asked gently.

Anna was staring ahead, barely listening, before she glanced at me then looked down to her empty bowl. Sentences left her lips in Russian, mumbled and incoherent, at least to me. Wanda leaned forward, holding her hand and frowning with sympathy as she listened to her words. I felt horrible, sensing something was wrong, but unable to do anything to help.

"I'm sorry, Anna, I didn't mean to upset you," I said, shaking my head.

Wanda met my gaze. "It's not your fault... Anna just misses Sasha."

I frowned. "Oh."

"But I'm glad I have you both," Anna finally spoke, accent thick with emotion, as she looked between us before settling her eyes to me. "Even if you're paid to be here."

She cracked a smile, making my shoulders relax. I returned her expression, glad she still had a sense of humour.

Anna didn't mention Sasha's name for the rest of the evening. We cleaned up, had some tea, played a quick board game before I made sure she was okay for the night.

"She alright?" Wanda asked when I closed Anna's bedroom door and stepped into the hall.

"Yeah, she's tired from all of today's excitement," I said with a smile.

"So are you by the sounds of it," she joked, but stepped forward to rest a hand on my arm. "I think we should call it a night."

"I think we should," I said in agreement.

After grabbing my stuff, Wanda and I left the flat before walking to her apartment and stopping outside.

"Thanks for helping me out today," I told her with a tired smile. "I really appreciated it."

"Well, you asked so nicely... how could I resist?" she said, staring up at me through her eyelashes. I rolled my eyes playfully, making her smile. "I had fun. Thanks for inviting me."

I was going to respond, but a yawn escaped my lips, prompting me to cover my mouth as I did.

"Sorry," I said, trying to blink the fatigue away momentarily.

She chuckled, tilting her head and watching me carefully. "You're cute."

I breathed out through my nose, unsure what to say to her words, but I definitely felt my heart rate speed up a little.

"I'll let you go," she said, clearly entertained by my silence. "Get home safe, yeah?"

"And you look after yourself when saving the world, yeah?" I replied with a quirked brow, eyes glancing at her wrist.

"I promise." She grinned before moving forward to hug me.

I returned the hug, the smell of her perfume permanent in my nose by now, before pulling away with a final smile. Of course, I probably shouldn't have stared at her lips so intensely, wanting nothing more than to kiss them.

"See you tomorrow," I said, snapping back into reality and taking a step back. "Goodnight, Wanda."

"Goodnight," she said sweetly.

I turned to leave and was suddenly wide awake. Did I just think about kissing Wanda?

—

It was a few visits later when I was caring for Anna and she decided to have a dance around the living room. One minute we were flicking through different radio stations, and the next she was putting on some old records on her record player. She settled on an upbeat, 50s dance song, the music filling the apartment with joy.

"Egor and I danced to this very song when we first met," she told me, talking about her late husband with a twinkling passion in her eyes. "It was a party and he had been staring at me all night, and I him. Then finally, when this song came on, he approached me and said, 'dorogaya, okazyvayesh' mne chest' tantsevat' so mnoy?'"

I suppressed a smile as I watched her reminisce. "And that means...?"

"'Darling, would you do me the honour of dancing with me'?" she repeated in English for my benefit.

My heart melted. "Anna, that's adorable. He sounds like such a gentlemen."

"He was," she said with a sigh of agreement, smiling to herself.

Whenever she talked about her husband, I'd never seen her look more content. The mere mention of his name was enough to put a smile on her face. I could only hope to have a love like theirs some day.

I stepped forward, putting out my hand. "I'm no Egor, but I'd love to dance with you if you'd let me."

"Oh, I can't do that," she said, waving my hand away. "I can barely walk, milaya (sweetie)."

"Hey, as your carer, I am insisting that you dance with me," I said, feigning sternness.

She hesitated, before resting her hand in mine and smiling with gratitude. The two of us danced together, myself being careful to keep her upright and make sure she didn't overexert herself. She was smiling and laughing as I spun her around, dancing her all around the living room, and it warmed my heart to see her so cheery.

A knock on the door caused me to excuse myself from Anna, only to find Wanda on the other end.

"Someone's in a good mood," she said instantly, taking note of my smile.

I stepped to the side to let her in. "Yeah, well, Anna is doing good today. It's contagious, what can I say?"

Before Wanda could respond, Anna called from the living-area with excitement.

"Wanda, idi syuda i potantsuy so mnoy!" she exclaimed, already grabbing Wanda's hand and pulling her in.

It didn't take a genius to know that Anna had basically asked Wanda to dance with her. I chuckled as I followed after them, enjoying the sight of Anna and Wanda dancing together.

"What's the occasion?" Wanda asked, glancing over the short woman and to me with a helpless smile.

"No occasion," I quipped, crossing my arms and trying to hold in my laughter at Anna's speed and perseverance with a reluctant Wanda. "Just having a good time."

Wanda looked like she wanted to retort with a comment, but Anna spun her around before she could, making me laugh aloud.

"Prikhodi odin, milaya (come on, sweetie)!" Anna said, holding out a hand. "Dance!"

Unable to resist, I joined in with the two Sokovian women, appreciating how happy Anna looked and how awkward Wanda felt in the situation. She wasn't much of a dancer, but she was trying and God was that adorable.

We danced for a little while longer until Anna's back began to hurt and she took a seat. Though, she insisted that Wanda and I resume with our dancing.

Just on time, like a sign from the universe or a higher being or whatever you wanted to believe in, a slow song came on next, filling the apartment soothingly.

To my surprise, the awkward dancer that was Wanda was oddly confident as she held out her hand to me.

"Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?" she asked softly, a small smile playing on her lips.

At the familiarity of her words, I glanced to Anna, who seemed to pick up on it, too. She said nothing as she watched us with a smile of her own.

"I'd love to," I said, looking back to Wanda's eyes.

They looked blue in the light, a beautiful sky blue that put me at ease as soon as I stared into them. I slipped my hand into hers, letting her pull us closer together as she rested her other hand on my waist, the touch sending shivers up my spine. I put mine on her shoulder, allowing her to take the lead.

It was the most intimate we'd been, and as she maintained eye contact, I wondered if she could feel my hands trembling slightly, or my heart hammering loudly, or my palms turning a little sweaty. She made me nervous in the best way possible, her smile dazzling without realising and her eyes piercing without meaning to be.

She must have felt it, too, that tug in the pit of her stomach that I was feeling now. Otherwise there was something seriously wrong and I was already too deep into a crush on my patient's neighbour.

When the song ended, it feeling like mere seconds in total, she let go of me and I missed the contact and the smell of her perfume and the way she was looking at me.

"Couldn't have done it better myself," Anna spoke, forcing me to tear my gaze from Wanda's lips. She smiled at me knowingly. "You ladies definitely know how to dance."

I felt a heat creeping up my neck as I smiled to myself, distracting myself with the laces on my shoes. When I finally brought myself to look up, I saw Wanda already looking my way, a calm expression on her face.

As she did most times she visited, Wanda stayed with me and Anna until I tucked Anna into bed and bid her a goodnight. We left the apartment and Wanda decided to walk me to the lift that evening, a distracted look on her face.

It was silent between us, a comfortable one, until the doors slid open and I looked to her with kind eyes.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I told her, making her look to me. "Have a nice evening, Wanda."

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. I watched with amusement, wondering what was going on in that pretty head of hers. The lift doors began to shut, so I put my foot between them to keep them open.

"I should go," I said with an awkward laugh, before grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently since she wouldn't speak. "Goodnight."

When I turned to leave, I got, maybe, a step into the lift before I felt her fingers wrap around my wrist and tug me backwards, spinning me around. I didn't get chance to ask what was up as she stepped forward, pressing her lips to mine in an instant.

Startled, I froze at the contact, but then her hand rested on the back of my neck as her thumb caressed my jaw, and I found myself melting into her, closing my eyes at the blissful feeling.

Her other hand fell to my waist as she deepened the kiss, sending me into the lift and the wall hitting my back. I moved my lips in time with hers, revelling at how soft and delicate and gentle she was being. Kissing Wanda Maximoff wasn't something I had realised would be this good, but now that I was, I never wanted to stop.

Unfortunately, the sound of the lift doors shutting pulled us apart. I was breathless, my heart racing and my lips swollen from her spectacular kiss.

"I've wanted to do that for such a long time," she revealed, stepping back a little. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed as she watched me with mild concern. "I completely should have asked though. I'm sorry that I overstepped."

She pursed her lips, forefinger and thumb pinching her bottom lip regretfully and gaze falling to the floor.

"You didn't overstep," I said, already missing the sensation of her lips against mine. "You stepped just the right amount."

She looked back up, eyes softening as her lips curved into a radiant smile.

"You wanna, maybe, do that again?" I asked without thinking, my mind a haze as Wanda still remained so close to me.

She laughed melodiously before raising her hand and cupping my cheek. Her eyes looked between mine before falling to my lips affectionately.

"I'd love to, dorogoy (darling)."

I smiled toothlessly before closing the gap between us, secretly wishing this lift ride would go on forever if it meant I could kiss Wanda like this.

—

After making out with Wanda in the lift, she asked me out on a date and it was the best date I'd ever been on. Nothing over the top but very thoughtful as she took me for a picnic in the park before getting ice cream for dessert.

We went on a few more dates after that, taking turns to take the lead with them, and she ended up asking me to be her girlfriend which of course I said yes to.

All whilst this was going on, I still cared for Anna and Wanda paid her visits when she could, though we tried to remain as normal as possible. We didn't think it was best to tell Anna that we were together since we didn't want to startle her or make her feel uncomfortable in our presence. Of course, keeping a secret from Anna is as good as nothing when she had eyes like a hawk.

Wanda and I were putting a plate of tea and biscuits together for Anna one day, myself lining up the biscuits neatly as Wanda lingered beside me. She was about to grab a biscuit from the plate when I smacked her hand away.

"Just one," she pleaded, but I shook my head before nodding to the packet on the side.

"Help yourself to those," I told her condescendingly. "These are for Anna."

"Just get her another," she said simply, before reaching over again.

I smacked her hand away again, giving her a knowing look.

"Y/N!"

"Wanda!" I mirrored her childish smile.

She narrowed her eyes petulantly. "Are you seriously doing this right now?"

"Are you?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

She pouted and I so badly wanted to lean forward and kiss it away, but Anna was sat on her recliner behind us. Wanda seemed to know this as a mischievous smile fell on her lips, eyes watching me carefully.

"You're not cute," I mumbled, before grabbing the tray and turning to leave. As I was walking to Anna, a biscuit began to float off the plate, red wisps of energy wrapped around it and bringing it to– "Wanda!"

She laughed, eyes glowing red with magic, before grabbing the biscuit from mid-air and taking a bite.

"Such a child," I said under my breath before setting the tray on the coffee table before Anna. Smiling at her, I said, "Here you go, Anna. Do you want anything else?"

As I straightened up, flipping Wanda off behind my back and encouraging her laughter further, I noticed the way Anna looked between us both curiously.

"Everything okay?" I asked, eyebrows knitting together as she continued to study us both.

"Something happened," she decided. "Between you both."

"What do you mean?" I asked, taking a seat on the couch. "Nothing happened."

"Something definitely did," she said knowingly. "I may be old, milaya (sweetie), but I have very good eyes."

"Anna, what are you talking about?" Wanda played dumb, taking a seat beside me, biscuit in hand.

"Don't think I haven't seen the way you two steal glances when you think I'm not looking," she said, pointing between us. "Or the way you," her finger settled on Wanda, "have been helping Y/N out more often than usual."

Wanda and I flushed, embarrassed that we'd been caught out. I was so certain that we'd successfully hid it from her, but clearly we were mistaken.

"We wanted to tell you," Wanda began, cheeks still pink as she leaned forward.

Anna silenced her with a wave of her hand. "Save it. I knew I was right. You two are together."

Pursing my lips, I waited for her to say something because I wasn't really sure what to say myself. Suddenly, a smile appeared on her lips.

"I'm very happy for you both," she said to us. "Wanda here always needed somebody in her life who wasn't me. And you, Y/N, are the perfect match for her."

I chuckled, looking to the girl in question, whose face was as red as her powers that she used to torment me with. I grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently, and nudged her in the shoulder.

"You hear that? Perfect match," I teased, making her roll her eyes to distract from her flustered self.

Anna said something to her in Russian, way too fast and incomprehensible for me to understand, even with the extra effort I was making to learn it. Whatever it was, it made Wanda get even more embarrassed, her green eyes darting around the room in an effort to overcome it.

"What did you say?" I asked Anna with amusement.

"Oh, nothing Wanda hasn't heard before," she said dismissively. "It's all okay. Isn't it, Wanda?"

"Yeah," Wanda mumbled.

"I don't know what's happening here, but I'm all for someone putting Wanda in her place," I said, looking between them both with an entertained smile.

Anna chuckled as Wanda shoved me in the arm gently before pulling me close again. I smiled at how cute she looked, pink blush creeping up her neck and teeth chewing on her lower lip to contain her smile.

I'd never get sick of the sight.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #wanda maximoff #marvel imagine #marvel #mcu imagine

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honeytae · 3 years ago

Note

Hi!! Idk if you’re taking requests or not, but I was hoping I could request something along the lines of where you’re in love with your best friend, taehyung, but he doesn’t know and he’s getting married soon. you don’t tell him how you feel until the night of his wedding when you’re a bit tipsy from drinking your feelings away. you can decide the ending! thank you in advance if you end up writing this! hope you’re doing well and staying safe. Xx

hi darling! i’m so sorry this took so long for me to write. i couldn’t get it to a point where i was satisfied with it for a really long time, i still don’t feel that good about it honestly but hopefully it’s okay for you!!! i tried to make it angsty (yikes) so hopefully it’s not horrible lmao

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters

genre: angst

word count: 1.6k

warnings: um so much heartbreak, oc is a little (very) in denial about the situation and comes off a little toxic tbh, requited love but nothing they can do about it now, mentions of tae going into a panic attack

You couldn’t handle it.

You couldn’t handle the ‘congratulations to the happy couple,’ nor the Mr. and Mrs. Kim sign practically floating over their heads. You couldn’t handle the copious bouquets and all the preparations that went into this.

And you felt like a complete asshole about it.

Which is precisely why you decided to prematurely exit the event, doing yourself and everyone else a favor by leaving for the night to go sulk in your hotel by your lonesome.

The elevator ride up to your floor was miserable, your own battles within your mind coupled with the fact that your floor was the top one, making the ride excruciatingly long on top of everything else.

Rustling with the hotel key in your bag seemed to take forever as well, finally barging into your half unpacked space with a sigh. You quickly shut the door behind you, hoping you’d been able to sneak away from the hotel lobby without any guests noticing.

Shuffling further into the room, you sat on the edge of the king bed in the center of the room, placing your head in your hands at the mere prospect of this weekend.

Taehyung was getting married. Kim Taehyung, your best friend, the one person you’d been pining for since middle school, would be legally bound to someone else in less than twenty four hours.

Maybe you just shouldn’t have come. Despite sending red flags to Tae, you couldn’t think of a better solution than fleeing at this exact moment. Why did you think you could handle this?

Two knocks against the locked door had your head raising from its resting place, cursing under your breath at someone coming after you.

You didn’t feel well. That would be your excuse.

“Hey, you okay?” Immediately upon opening the door, Taehyung spoke the question out into the air, dark eyebrows knit in concern and kind eyes imploring yours for an answer.

“Hi. I’m fine, just a little tired, Tae.” You pressed your lips together in a hopefully believable smile, the man frowning before nodding at you.

“Me too. Can I come in?” He asked, the question completely innocent however making your heart rate a bit faster at the what if. What if things had gone differently? What if it was still a possibility for things to escalate between you two?

Cut it out. He’s about to be a married man.

You raised your eyebrows at him for a moment, then stepped back to allow him in, putting all your concentration on shutting the wood for a moment as you took a steadying breath.

“What about your party?” You wondered aloud, the man humming as he took a seat on your fully made bed.

“I’m tired of the parties. They’re exhausting.” He chuckled, covering his face with his hands as he reclined back on your bed.

Your heart skipped another beat at the vision, his tight pants leaving little to the imagination and buttons from his dress shirt stretched to new limits with his strained position. Diverting your eyes, you walked over to the desk chair in the corner of your room, reaching for a water bottle out of your mini fridge. Get a fucking grip.

Tossing one over to the bed beside Taehyung, you sat down in the plush seat, grateful that the man didn’t seem to notice your distance from him as you glanced out the window.

Until….

“Are you really okay? I feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

At his sudden words, you froze, gripping your water a bit tighter as you brought your eyes back to his face. He was closer now than before, having scooted to the edge of your bed to lean toward you, eyes showing concern for you as you shuffled in your seat.

Taehyung was never one to beat around the bush, and at times like this, you really wish he would just brush some things under the rug as easy as you could.

“I’m good, Tae. Just have a lot going on, I guess. I’m sorry I made you feel like that.” You said, hoping to clear the air and dismiss the topic as soon as you possibly could. The man’s stare wasn’t helping your state any.

“No apologies. Just wanted to check in on you.” He sighed, seemingly disappointed with your lack of response before a hideous painting across the room caught his eye.

“What the fuck is that?” He griped, making you chuckle as he sat up to lean toward the art piece, squinting with his lip curled in amusement.

“It’s not so bad.” You shrugged, smirking when he turned back to you in bewilderment. Realizing you were teasing him, his eyes went back to normal size, a smile meeting his own lips at the return of your familiar banter.

“How can you sleep in a room with that shit? I feel like asking for a refund.” He shook his head, making you laugh before taking a swig from your water.

“Somehow I manage.” You replied, twisting the cap back on the bottle with a sigh.

It’s times like these that you feel as though nothing is wrong. Times like these that transport you back to periods of your life when Taehyung was just a call away, and you thought maybe, just maybe, you two had a chance. But that was over now. Those days were no more.

Because Taehyung informing you about a blind date then turned into him in a full blown relationship, a serious one at that, and soon enough they were taking big steps such as meeting the parents, moving in together, and yes, getting engaged.

Your friends had been just as shocked as you were, pitying you with deep sympathetic looks over Taehyungs shoulder as you hugged him in confused congratulations. It had all happened so fast...how did you manage to lose him forever?

Waking up the next day, you felt a particular heaviness on your chest. It was the day before the wedding, the rehearsal dinner turned into an entire day of partying for their guests. A celebratory day, if anything.

But waking up and getting all dolled up for this occasion was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, today or ever. You had always thought that you’d have much more of a starring role in Kim Taehyung’s life. Shaking your head to dismiss those kinds of thoughts, you cursed as you left your hotel room, wondering how the hell you’d be getting through this day.

Four martinis. Four martinis was how you’d be getting through today. The bartender had become one of your closest acquaintances over the past few hours, eyeballing you silently as he poured you yet another cocktail, your demands obvious that you were not drinking out of celebration.

Sitting at the bar, you contemplated everything. From the time you’d met Tae, you had been so sure that you two completed each other. Were you that naive? And fuck, why are you still thinking about this now? It’s over. You and Tae will never be.

Nearly jumping off your stool at a hand suddenly clapping your back, you shifted your gaze over to the arm belonging to Jungkook, one of Taehyung’s youngest yet wisest friends.

“You’re sulking.” He said plainly, dark eyes tracing over your faded features, briefly examining the drink in your hand before shooting the bartender a knowing look.

“You shouldn’t be out here.” You sighed, nearly breaking into a sob when his hand laid over yours, fingers fitting between your own in a comforting gesture. With one glance at the man, you gained all the information you didn’t want.

He knew.

You wondered how long he’d known. Jungkook, being the quiet and relatively introverted person he was, was an observer. He knew everything about everyone it seemed, by not speaking to them at all. He noticed everything.

You just hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes started blinking rapidly, and that he’d instead just go back into the party without another word.

“Neither should you.” He replied to you, his tone holding nothing but concern as he tried to catch your eyes.

You just couldn’t hold it in.

“Well maybe if I wasn’t in love with him I’d be having a better time.” You mumbled, leaning your head down on your hands, elbows pressed to the tops of your thighs, sad and tired as Jungkook froze beside you.

Unbeknownst to you, a concerned Taehyung had also come to find you, stumbling upon that very scene as Jungkook tried to console you.

Meeting eyes with his older friend, Jungkook’s mouth gaped open for a moment, opening and closing like a fish out of water as you cluelessly rambled under your breath about how stupid you were to ever let yourself come here.

With a shaky exhale, Taehyung silently began to put it all together. The way you’d been working constantly lately, picking up every shift you could to decline his repeated attempts at getting together with you, the way you’d ran off last night and brushed it off as you being too tired. It was all adding up.

You were struggling with this as much as he was. Maybe more.

But what Taehyung could do about this years ago was no longer an option, his hands shaking at his sides as he spun on his heel and walked out of the lobby. He could briefly hear Jungkook call for him but ignored it, breathing heavily as he rounded one of the hallways leading to the restrooms.

Unshed tears misted over his eyes as he hugged a corner of the wall, feeling rather unsteady as he leaned his forehead against the cool surface. The burning pain in his chest had him sinking down to the floor in an instant, sobs wracking his shoulders with heightening emotions rising in his throat.

You’d finally given him the green light. And it was too fucking late.

#bts fanfiction #bts member x reader #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts angst #bts reader insert #kim taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung imagines #kim taehyung angst #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagines #taehyung angst #writing #fanfiction #angst #x reader #reader insert

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honeymoonjin · 5 years ago

Text

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: fanboy!taehyung x artist!reader

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 13.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my god, Y/n L/n?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The pleasure is all mine."

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

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

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

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

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

Wait.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You take him home the next day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Use me, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tae, you'll smudge it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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avasghost · 4 years ago

Text

When We Drown Update #2

[image description: a pale blue photo of a rocky cliff, and a boy at the edge in the distance, standing on a pile of rocks and looking down. in white serif font in the centre, reads ��when we drown: update two” / end id]

wip intro here. first writing update here.

DISCLAIMER: this is my original work, please do not plagiarize in any way.

hi everyone! it’s been a while since i did a writing update (time is fast) and i’ve written quite a lot! up until about a week ago i was in a really, really bad writing slump (which lasted like,,, four months) and so that’s why there hasn’t been a crane anatomy update for a ages because (: i haven’t been writing it (:

i don’t know if i mentioned this in the first update, but this book is now non-linear which has been an ~adventure! the non-linear plotline is kind of freeing because i can just pick a scene i want to write from any time in april’s life and just ... write it? i don’t have to follow the years chronologically. i try to create some kind of causal thread between the scenes but i don’t know how well that’s working out lmao. since WWD follows an entire life story with the protagonist looking back on it and remembering her life, i try to make her memory of one event trigger the memory of the next event, and usually they’re linked by either emotion or information.

current word count: 13,228

so when we drown is officially longer than crane anatomy now, despite being the side project! fun.

anyway lets get into the chapters because i have nothing else to say. tw for death, and other trigger warnings are before the individual chapters!

excerpts under the cut.

chapter 5: faces

[image description: a birds eye view of a forest of snowy pine trees. above the trees in black serif font reads “chapter 5: faces” / end id]

this is a very short chapter (a page and a half) which is a flash forward to when april and elena live together in a cabin in the woods sometime in their late forties. elena is asleep in an armchair and april stokes the fireplace, and then goes outside and sees elias’s ghost and then it dissapears (tbh,,, i think a lot of the chapters will be like this oops) this is the second ghost sighting in the book, but at the point when april is 48 it’s almost a regular occurrence! i might end up moving it to later in the book eventually, since i might want the ghost sightings to be in linear order if nothing else is, to keep the main thread of the book in order.

I closed the door of the woodstove, and glanced over my shoulder to see if Elena had been woken by the clanging of metal. She stirred slightly, a familiar face in her nightmare, an unfamiliar face in a familiar dream. Two fingers clenched against the armrest, then became limp again. Half of me wanted her to wake up, to see me, to speak to me, to see the fire bouncing in the grate and be happy for warmth. But again, she needed rest. She needed to be alone for a while, even if that was just in her head. She’d seen her fair share of fire.

also its snowing in november and its british columbia and i know this is unrealistic but! aesthetics are more important than logic we all know that.

[image description: blurry pine trees and a light snow falling in front of them, with a ridge of snow along the bottom. white serif text in the centre reads “The snow-tipped pines that cupped the cabin sagged under the weight of unexpected snowfall. Their fallen needles jotted the snow. The sky was white, spotless, like an expanse of faraway ocean or the inside of a crystal ball.” / end id]

The snow-tipped pines that cupped the cabin sagged under the weight of unexpected snowfall. Their fallen needles jotted the snow. The sky was white, spotless, like an expanse of faraway ocean or the inside of a crystal ball. No birds flitted between the branches, no foxes slunk between the pines. All was still. All was white. I was alone.

and the ghost is seen then disappears as usual and april goes inside again.

You were gone by the time I reached the door again, by the time I stepped inside and Elena stirred in her armchair, by the time I had stepped out of my shoes and gone to stoke the fire again, which was already starting to dwindle.

i like having elias referred to as “you” because its like april is telling the story to him, but he’s not there, so she’s talking to herself, which is very in character for her to do.

chapter 6: the party

[image description: a slope of pine trees with a grassy field at the bottom. mist shrouds the trees in the distance. a dirt path leads through the grass towards a cabin. in the top right corner, reads “chapter 6: the party” / end id]

chapter 6 follows the day before elena’s fifteenth birthday, and then her party the next day. this is a traumatic time for april because she decides she should mention her first elias sighting at the party. obviously people think she’s crazy and so you can guess how that turns out (aka april goes home and cries because she’s a soft bean)

elena has a cool tree in her backyard apparently!! this seems to be a running theme.

Dribbles of leftover sunlight sifted through the branches of the elm tree that ribbed the sky, its roots furrowing the lawn like varicose veins.

i will admit i didn’t finish this chapter and haven’t written most of the party scene yet so i will probably update on the rest of it in my next update (if i’ve written it by then which i probably won’t have but! we’ll see.)

chapter 7: sacred ground

[image description: the ocean stretching into the distance, with small waves. a blurry girl with long brown hair stands in front of it, facing the water. in the middle in white serif font reads “chapter 7: sacred ground” / end id]

the aftermath of the first elias sighting, when april goes and tries to talk to elena about it. i actually don’t know if this or the party comes first and the non-linearness might be catching up to me oops but we’ll just pretend everything makes sense okay <3

first she tries to decide who to talk to about it and her options are quite limited. she picks elena because she’ll probably take her seriously, and then goes to her house in a state of shock.

I considered my options. Elena: the calm one, either pretending to be wise or really wise. Magnolia: probably less stupid than she made herself out to be. My mother: still crying over a tragedy of five years ago and a tragedy of fifteen years ago and the tragedy of a lifetime wasted in crowded cult meetings and stark bedrooms, tears always falling, thoughts either always whirlwinding or too dead to pay attention to. I found myself winding up the jittery pathway to Elena’s house, or maybe it was me that was jittery. Maybe it was me, who made the world blurry like this. Maybe it was me who was seeing things, not those things drifting into my line of vision and then falling out of sight. The pearly birches jagged the edges of the valley, their leaves chartreuse in the wind-rustled sunlight.

and then elena rejects her plight and april returns to where she saw elias. turns out elena isn’t as accepting of april’s hallucinations as she was supposed to be! here’s a bit of dialogue i generated from that incorrect quote generator that seems fitting for this moment!

April: Bad things keep happening to me, like I have bad luck or something.

Elena: April, you don't have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you're a dumbass.

this IS april and this IS elena how does this generator know what my book is about!! anyway back to excerpts:

I ran back to where I had seen you, all slow wonderment vanished, and found the place where my old footsteps in the sand looped around. I knew you wouldn’t be there, I wasn’t surprised that you didn’t appear again, your face bobbing in a rice paper mist. I wasn’t surprised that Elena didn’t chase me out, eyes drained of tears, to apologize. And I wasn’t surprised that from that point forward, I thought of that place as sacred.

chapter 8: always falling

[image description: a blurred black-and-white close-up image of water falling. white serif font in the center reads “always falling: chapter 8″ / end id]

tw: death, drowning, blood, fantasizing about drowning

eight-year-old april and magnolia visit a waterfall with magnolia’s parents. feat. april’s dog, august!

The waterfall coiled down the cliff face, cracking the surface of the river like a thousand strands of thunder. I could hardly hear Magnolia’s parents shouting something up ahead, their voices lost in the blare of water.

shortly after:

When I heard suspension bridge, I pictured one from old fairytales I read: wooden, burlap ropes for railings. A thirty percent chance of falling in. I was reassured by the stability, but August shivered at the way it jilted underfoot. He had never walked on ground that shifted under his feet, maybe it was an earthquake, maybe the ground was breaking in.

and here’s sweet eight-year-old April fantasizing about what it would be like to drown. If you think that’s foreshadowing no it isn’t 👁👁

[image description: a slightly grainy photo, half water and half sky, both tinted turquoise. a hand lifts out of the water toward the sky. above the hand in white serif font, reads “What it would feel like to drown, water snagging in my lungs, sharp stones shattering my ribcage until the entire river turned to blood. Being sucked by the current until someone finally found my body, far from where I lost it.” / end id]

I stared over the edge, tried to pierce the thick buzz of mist that separated me from what would be the teeth of my fall. I imagined the bridge giving way, like it always did in the stories I read. One end breaking, the ropes snapping, the entire bridge swinging into the bottomless river. What it would feel like to drown, water snagging in my lungs, sharp stones shattering my ribcage until the entire river turned to blood. Being sucked by the current until someone finally found my body, far from where I lost it. Maybe it would be an old fisherman, hauling a girl in with the day’s catch, or his frail wife, who would faint on the spot at the sight of a dead child, bloodied and mangled and already tearing apart.

they cross the suspension bridge, and august unfortunately falls in! this is just a bit of april’s childhood trauma and i wish i didn’t have to cause her this pain but i do i’m sorry 😭

chapter 9: dead letters

[image description: a close up sheet of paper with a few lines of cursive writing across it. a fountain pen lies across the page. in the bottom right hand corner, a black serif font reads “chapter 9: dead letters” / end id]

a very young april and elias get caught in a hailstorm then go inside and find letters from their father, who they never met because he still lives in the cult their mother escaped from the day april was born. their mother tries to hide the letters from them but! these children do not relent.

We tracked through the colourful forest in autumn, our rubber boots tore trails through the scattered maple leaves. Pronged pinecones crackled under my heels as I chased you, threading between the trees.

I was eight, you were faster but I managed to keep up all the same. A haze of rain sizzled on my skin, but rain didn’t phase me back then. I didn’t mind the water droplets that pearled down my neck into the hem of my bright yellow rain jacket.

they escape from the hailstorm and find their mother in the kitchen making tea (rare!)

When we tripped over the doorframe and found ourselves panting in the kitchen, the kettle wheezed and mother emerged from her bedroom to take it off. The scent of green tea wafted through the air as she poured it, steaming, into a ceramic teacup with a crack veining down the side.

april tries to take one of the letters but her mother stops her. later during the night, she and elias get out of bed and read the letters and it turns out their father left the cult as well, and wants to meet up with them. april wants to meet him, but elias is bitter about it and doesn’t really even consider him their father because he was never there for them.

chapter 10: frostbite

[image description: two pale hands reach towards the sky, in front of a blurry indigo background. in the top left corner, white serif font reads “chapter 10: frostbite” / end id]

tw: freezing to death

there are those weird times when their mom tells stories about her life. these incidents never end well but happen occasionally! she tells april about a time when her and a few other cult members were in the mountains and one of them froze to death. at this point april is around fifteen (which is where the main plot of the book is at right now)

She cut off there, blanched, stared out the window at the sun-speckled backyard, but I could fill in the rest of the details myself: skin a cold stone blue, frostbite jittering through the lungs and spine like a poison, eating everything slowly. Lying in the snow, letting the cold overcome them. Dead before morning. I wanted to ask if they buried the body, dug a grave of snow that would be melted by spring, or just left the corpse lying in the snow for someone else to find, or be eaten by a wolf pack, or to deteriorate, and haunt those lonely slopes forever.

afterwards, april goes outside (yes its snowing again 😭 as someone who dislikes snow i sure write about it a lot)

On those days, my desperation to leave the house rose to a high and I would slide into a pair of ragged sneakers and a cable-knit sweater and push out into the cold. Once vibrant green leaves now greyed with frost, a snowfall months early but not unwelcome. Striking before the trees had the chance to shed their leaves. Frost brittled the branches of the oaks so I could snap them without an effort, not that I wanted to snap them. The concrete of the road was spined with ice that made it look like the ground was caving in, icicles barbed the eaves of our house like jagged teeth. Sometimes I thumbed snow into my mouth like a child, hoping no one was watching a seventeen-year-old eat snow, and let it blot my tongue and dribble down my throat. The cold shock to my system helped clear my mind of whatever mother had been talking about, helped me cope with the pain I shouldn’t have been feeling in the first place.

aaannd that’s everything i’ve written so far! this has been the worst writing slump of my life and i’m not too happy with most of the stuff i’ve written lately, but hopefully that clears up so i can update y’all again soon!

- ava

wips taglist (ask to be added or removed!) @shaelinwrites @august-iswriting @wildswrites @nodeadnarrators @annlillyjose @shaonharryandpannisim @letsgetsquiggly @strangerays @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @dallonswords @teaandtypewriters @chewingthescenery @kahaaniyaa @coffeeandcalligraphy @47crayons @writing-is-a-martial-art

#when we drown #writing update #when we drown update #writers on tumblr #my writing #writeblr #am writing #original writing

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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By Your Side (Biadore) - Candy Cane

A/N: just a oneshot based off of a prompt sent in that asked for bianca finding out abt adore’s onlyfans! its not quite that tbh but the words take me where they want to go lol please enjoy!! <3 theres some other things ive been trying to work on but its slow going rn as my cat is very sick and a lot of my time and energy has been dedicated to him, but i hope to get more out soon!

It’s only been a few months into quarantine when Adore finds herself on the phone with one of her oldest friends. Like, old physically not old as in how long they’ve known each other. But to be fair, there aren’t a ton of people she’s been friends with longer than she’s been friends with Bianca. Courtney and Darienne too for that matter.

She loves Bianca. Their friendship is something precious to her, and surprisingly this is only the second phone call they’ve had since quarantine has started. They talk basically every day through texts, and that’s on top of the hours they spend going back and forth in the ABCD group chat with Courtney and Darienne. The four of them have something special, all of them realize that. There’s just something specifically between her and Bianca that Adore’s never really been able to place her finger on.

Out of the blue this morning Bianca simply… called her. Adore spends a full moment staring at the CallerID trying to figure out where the fuck this is coming from. With an uncertain frown, she answers the phone, hanging upside down off the side of her bed of course.

“So… OnlyFans? Seriously?” Bianca asks incredulously, her voice crackling over the phone speaker.

What a way to start a conversation after not hearing each other’s voices for like a month! Even though Adore can’t see her face, she can practically hear the raised eyebrow.

“Fuck you,” Adore laughs, unable to help smiling at Bianca’s playful accusations.

“Not that I’m mad, but why fucking OnlyFans? Aren’t bitches doing podcasts now?”

“I’m bored, okay? There’s not a lot to do but drink and masturbate, and drinking hasn’t really been doing it for me lately. Plus, I gotta make money somehow,” Adore grumbles through an explanation, lifting herself up and sprawling out on her bed awkwardly.

“Do I need to set up an intervention? You know I will,” Bianca says with faux seriousness, “Seriously though, if you need some help…”

Adore frowns down at her phone. She hates pity, she hates unnecessary worry, and she definitely hates burdening people with her bullshit.

“B, I’m fine, I promise,” she says earnestly, “I guess I just… I miss you. A lot. And we can’t see each other right now and it fucking sucks and I’m really lonely-”

“Come over.”

“What? I can’t, B, we’re quarantined…”

“When’s the last time you left your apartment?”

“Uhh, I dunno, maybe a month ago?’ Adore answers, unsure of where Bianca is going with this.

“Okay, that’s well over two weeks. Come hang out with me for a few days, get some human interaction, I’ve been needing it myself. I haven’t gone out or seen anyone for a few weeks now,” Bianca admits, and Adore feels suddenly giddy.

It’s been so long since she’s seen someone, since she’s even gotten a hug, and she really wants to see Bianca…

“I’ll be there tomorrow morning,” Adore agrees, not even thinking twice about it.

Bianca is everything to her. This person was one of the first to really take her seriously, to really see something in her, and Adore doesn’t know where she’d be without her. Every time something goes wrong, her first instinct is to call Bianca. Everytime something amazing happens, her first instinct is to call Bianca. They’ll spend hours talking or texting just because and Adore wouldn’t have it any other way.

They are as good together as PB&J, or peanut butter and celery, or peanut butter and pretzels… And Adore realizes she is feeling very snacky, specifically for peanut butter. With a sigh she rolls off her bed to get a snack before she starts packing for the next week.

The point is Adore loves Bianca, and Danny loves Roy. Sure maybe it’s in a different way than they should, or even once did, but it can’t be helped. It can be hidden, though. And Danny is more than fine with hiding this secret, as long as they get to have Roy in their life at all. He’s more than what Danny should ever even hope for, and yet a part of them can’t help but hope.

After spending so much time apart, Danny knows it’ll be harder now than ever to hide these feelings they’ve been harboring for Roy. They’ll try though, because sometimes the thought of this man loving them back is all that keeps them going.

Danny arrives at Roy’s beautiful new house in Palm Springs at nearly noon the next day. Which, to be fair, is very much the morning for Danny. They even woke up early to make the trip! …If ten a.m. counts as early in any book except their own.

Roy is already standing out in the driveway waiting for Danny when they get there, his arms spread wide for a hug the second Danny gets out of their car. The younger practically rocket launches themself into his arms, clinging tight to him as they savor the first hug they’ve gotten in such a long fucking time. Danny can’t help the tears that fall at finally having such warm, loving human contact, especially from this person.

They hold onto each other as tight as they can, each beyond glad to have each other’s trust in such unreliable times. Being alone for so long had hit Roy hard too. Alcohol and binge watching can really only do so much, and he’s genuinely been feeling lonely being stuck in one spot for so long. The dogs help some, but at the end of the day it really doesn’t replace human interaction, no matter how hard he wishes it did.

“I missed you, baby girl,” Roy says, and Danny can almost hear his voice waver.

“I missed you too,” Danny whispers, trying and failing to hold back a sob.

They leave Danny’s bag in the car for now, much more eager to go sit down and enjoy each other’s company. The dogs bombard the two of them the second Danny crosses the threshold, the enby leaning instantly down to kiss and coo at the babies and Roy can’t help grinning widely at the sight. He loves his babies, and he loves his baby girl.

They spend the afternoon talking and laughing and playing with the dogs. Danny clearly gets some ideas about the golf cart, and Roy is suddenly excited about the upcoming few days. It’s been a while since either of them have really had something to look forward to.

“Alright, I still need you to explain this OnlyFans thing to me,” Roy says with a smirk a few hours later, after they’ve gotten properly settled in on the couch together with the dogs.

Danny’s eyes go wide with slight panic, “Okay, grandpa, it’s like uhhh, Patreon but-”

“No, no, no!” Roy laughs, “I know what it is, I mean why that? Why not literally anything else?”

“First of all, I am sexy. Second of all, I spent a lot of time not making money masturbating, which is a fucking shame because as I said before I am sexy.”

They both crack up at that, giggling like idiots on Roy’s couch, the puppies quickly joining in, yipping at them to be a part of the excitement.

“Awww, do you two think I’m funny?” Danny coos, picking Dede up and cuddling the pup close, “Your daddy doesn’t think I’m funny!”

Roy snorts, “You’ve certainly picked up a thing or two from me.”

“Like how to be a bitter old hermit!” Danny grins sweetly.

“Exactly,” Roy laughs.

“So if I ask really nicely will this bitter old hermit make me food?” Danny asks, batting their eyelashes pleadingly.

“My original plan was to let you starve to death while you were here, but since you’re asking nicely…” Roy says teasingly, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction at the way the younger throws their head back with laughter.

Late that night, after a long night of talking and watching TV and a decent dinner, they curl up into bed together. At one point they both needed to at least be tipsy to do that, but nowadays that’s just overkill. They have progressed well beyond that point of friendship, though Roy sometimes still likes to put on a show of being annoyed, if only because of the way Danny pouts and rolls their eyes.

Tonight he just holds the thick comforter up so Danny can slide in easily with him, he’s not really interested in making either of them wait longer than they already have for cuddles. In seconds the two are holding each other tight, savoring the touch. As Roy lays there, holding Danny like the younger is his lifeline, he starts to think about the time they’ve known each other. All the ups, downs, and side-to-sides… Danny has grown up a lot over the years they’ve been friends, and it’s hard to deny that it’s changed Roy’s feelings for them.

Once his feelings to the younger were almost motherly, but now it’s closer to attraction. It’s kind of weird, at the least it’s very fucked up. Roy wants to just give in to the feelings, but he can’t. Not when he has no way of gaging Danny’s feelings for him. He can live with this secret, he’s not sure he can live without Danny’s friendship.

Danny interrupts his thoughts, their voice small and curious, “Why were you so invested in my OnlyFans?”

“Bitch, I’m trying to sleep here,” Roy groans.

“No, seriously,” Danny pouts, sitting up in bed and looking down at Roy. The moonlight streaming in from the window highlights the enby perfectly, and Roy curses his luck.

“I don’t want you renting yourself out on the corner like Bunny, now get back to sleep you dumb slut,” Roy says with all of his usual teasing heat.

Danny pouts though, clearly not satisfied, “But…”

“Sleep. Now.” Roy demands, reaching up to tug them back under the covers. Danny reluctantly gives in, and snuggles close to Roy.

Just as Roy is about to fall asleep, Danny’s voice has his eyes flying open.

“Roy?”

“What?”

“I love you,” Danny whispers.

Roy’s heart melts a little at that, “I love you too, Danny.”

Danny bites their lip nervously, “I mean like… I think…”

Roy’s heart starts to beat faster in his chest. Surely they couldn’t mean…

“You think…?” Roy asks, hoping that despite it all this person is about to say what he thinks they are.

“I think I might be… in love,” Danny says, their voice quiet and timid in a way Roy hasn’t heard in a very long time, “With you.”

This time Roy is the one to sit up in bed, staring down at Danny with pure infatuation. Those words echo around his ears, his chest, his very soul, and before he even realizes what he’s doing he’s leaning down to capture Danny’s lips in a kiss.

His lips against theirs feels so undeniably right. Their lips move slowly against each other, Danny brings a hand around to cup the back of Roy’s neck and in that moment nothing is wrong in their own little world. In that moment it’s just them and the moonlight. He thinks that he could live forever in this moment and never need anything else.

They break apart much too soon for either of their tastes, and Roy stares into those pretty eyes and murmurs, “I think I love you too.”

Danny surges forward for another kiss, this one much more desperate than the last. It’s a hot, heavy kiss that ends with Roy flat against the bed and both of Danny’s hands cupping his face as they explore each other. It’s like no kiss either of them have had before, with so many years of emotion and uncertainty between them it’s intense. Bianca and Adore have drunkenly kissed before, but this absolutely cannot compare. Danny whimpers pathetically against Roy, their hips grinding down against Roy’s thigh.

Roy lets out a shaky breath and grips at the enby’s barely covered ass. From the way Danny is squirming and moaning after only a little contact, Roy knows it’s been a while since Danny has been with someone like this. Roy hasn’t been able to get laid in a while either, rendering them both more than eager for this. Neither of them have a sexual partner in their circles right now, except maybe each other. Just this morning that would’ve been an absurd thought, and now it’s simply what makes sense.

Both of them need sexual fulfillment as much as they need emotional fulfillment, and even the thought of providing it for each other is thrilling. Roy grabs Danny’s bottom lip roughly between his teeth, sucking on it as he rubs his hands underneath Danny’s oversized tank top and over their skin. Danny whines and whimpers so deliciously in response, and Roy loves it.

Roy and Danny pull the little clothing that is off one another, each soaking in the familiar sight of the other being completely exposed. It’s nowhere near the first time they’ve seen each other like this, but it’s another one of those things where it’s simply different this time around. Because now it’s been established they love each other as much more than just friends.

Danny sucks hickeys along Roy’s collarbone, moaning roughly as Roy twists their nipples harshly, their bodies so close and warm wrapped up tight together.

“Think… Think I’m gonna get my nipples pierced,” Danny giggles breathlessly before it’s cut off in a moan of sheer pleasure when Roy pinches them even harder.

“Oh really? You’ve done a lot of slutty things, baby girl, but that is definitely up there,” Roy smirks.

Danny smiles innocently, “It would only make your job easier.”

“What? This job?” Roy asks teasingly, then trails his fingers down Danny’s stomach so they ghost over the enby’s half-hard cock.

Danny gasps, and Roy takes the opportunity to press his lips against theirs all over again, sucking their tongue into his mouth as he teases their cock. They moan and whine and squirm, their fingers gripping and squeezing at the flesh of Roy’s back frantically in response. Roy knows that that’s going to leave a mark, despite the fact that their nails are usually kept short. He doesn’t mind though, in fact it makes him harder knowing that he’s the reason Danny is reacting like this.

Danny’s head falls back against the pillow, feeling heat rush to their cheeks upon seeing the smouldering look in Roy’s eyes as they stare up at him. He’s so fucking gorgeous, all his sharpness and softness in just the right places.

“Tell me what you want,” Roy whispers roughly.

Danny inhales shakily, “Want- Wanna feel you-”

“What do you want me to do to you, Danny? Use your words…”

“Fuck me, oh God please just fuck me, holy shit,” Danny begs, squeezing their eyes shut tight and squirming underneath Roy’s tight hold.

“Shh, that’s so good, thank you,” Roy murmurs, caressing Danny’s cheek, “I’m going to fuck you so hard.”

And Danny just moans. They’ve wanted this from Roy for so long, and so many years were wasted convincing themself otherwise that this really feels like a fucking dream come true. It’s their own little fairytale, just for the two of them. Danny gets to live this fantasy with Roy, and that thought alone is almost more mind blowing than the idea of getting rammed until they can’t remember their own name.

Roy leans across to riffle through the nightstand, and turns back to Danny with lube, a condom, and a devious grin on his face. Minutes later, Danny is a whimpering, begging mess just from two of Roy’s fingers stretching them open. Roy is clearly enjoying it, whispering dirty things in their ear as he slowly tortures them with his fingers. When he slides in a third finger, Danny lets out the filthiest, most inhuman sound Roy has ever heard.

“You are just so fucking needy,” Roy says lowly, pulling out his fingers and quickly rolling the condom on.

Danny nods feverently, their eager words of agreement being almost incomprehensible. Roy grabs their tiny hips in his large hands and slides himself in. That moment is almost pure magic, the connection that had been simmering for so many years finally coming to a boil. Danny sobs from the mix of emotion and sheer pleasure, throwing their head back and forth, panting and begging for more while Roy closes his eyes and takes it all in.

Danny is incredibly warm and tight around him, and after a minute he begins to thrust shallowly, making Danny’s mindless babbling slur together. His thrusts quickly become harsher, aiming specifically for Danny’s spot, his grip on them tightens and he grabs the enby’s cock and starts to lavish it with some much needed attention.

“OhGodohGodohGodoh-” Danny rambles, pressing their face into the juncture of Roy’s neck and collarbone, inhaling his comforting, familiar scent, “So good, feels so good, don’t stop please don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to stop, shh, I’ve got you, fuck you’re so good,” Roy groans in response, his thrusts speeding up and his fingers around Danny’s cock tightening, “Are you about to cum for me? Huh?”

“Yes, fuck,” Danny rasps, “Yes yes gonna cum Roy please let me cum I’m gonna- gonna-”

Roy pumps his hand a few more times and whispers right in Danny’s ear, “Cum for me like a good girl.”

And Danny is a gonner. They moan high and long, their hips twitch rapidly and their whole body shakes with the force of their orgasm, ropes of cum covering Roy’s hand and both of their abdomens.

Danny practically goes limp in Roy’s hold, and just a few thrusts later Roy is undone as well, unable to help thrusting even harder and deeper into Danny’s body as he does. He falls on top of Danny, breathing heavy and ragged, and they hold each other tight. Danny’s arms still wrapped around Roy’s back when he carefully rolls them onto their sides so that they’re facing each other, nearly nose to nose. He gingerly pulls out of Danny, ties the condom, and throws it into the bin that he knows is next to the bed.

Roy cups their chin with his clean hand and stares into their dazed, half-lidded eyes. Danny blinks slowly, the afterglow beginning to wear off.

“I can’t believe it took us seven years,” Danny murmurs, reaching up to thread their fingers through Roy’s currently long hair.

“It was worth the wait,” Roy smiles softly, “And now we have the rest of our lives.”

“Yeah,” Danny whispers, “I get the rest of my life with you.”

Because for Roy and Danny it’s nowhere near over. For them it’s all only just begun.

#rpdr fanfiction #adore delano #bianca del rio #biadore #fluff #smut #canon compliant #by your side #candy cane #tw quarantine #concrit welcome

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talas-starlight · 4 years ago

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Scarred Spirits - zuko x fem!reader (pt.6)

SUMMARY: Y/n has been tailing Azula since Omashu and struggles to carry out her mission while protecting what matters most (AHAHAH THIS WAS THE WORST SUMMARY EVER IM SORRY)

WORD COUNT: 4k (uh wow this is my longest piece ever and i- AHAHA)

WARNINGS: panic attacks, fighting, swearing, angst? Tbh if you’ve made it this far in the series nothing new I think (lmk if I forgot anything)

KEY: *** = flashback && italic = internal dialogue

PREVIOUS PARTS: part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

MASTERLIST: Here!

The cool breeze swept through the palanquin as Azula sat assuredly, ruling everything she passed. “Okay girls, Father has sent word that the machinery and our wonderful new pets will meet up with us soon to chase down the Avatar until he’s too exhausted to even think anymore! Then, we’ll be off to capture Zuzu and Uncle! Victory will be ours.”

“That sounds extremely boring.” Grumbling as if Mai had so much more better things to do with her time.

“Hmm, I have to disagree Mai. What would be more fun than making them feel like there’s no escape but having to fight which they would inevitably fail at trying to win because they’re tired beyond repair!! It will be such a sweet victory.” Letting out a small laugh that sounded nothing but maniacal to you, Mai didn’t say another word as Ty Lee giddily nodded in approval.

Now, that is a tragic sight to see despite how understandably so.

Azula, Ty Lee and Mai have been planning how to hunt down the additional target from the moment they all stepped out of Omashu. Yet, based on that recent encounter, it was more so Azula rather than anyone else. Luckily enough, you were able to stay out of sight the entire time, and nothing requiring you to intervene has occurred. It was only a matter of time before that lucky streak broke.

After much contemplation and sleepless nights since the third anniversary, along with recent events, Zuko finally came to a conclusion. Approaching his uncle with great certainty, he finally let out what has been on his mind.

“Uncle, I thought a lot about what you said.”

“You did? Good, good.”

“It’s helped me realise something.” Letting out a deep breath, getting to the point came quite easily to him, especially since Iroh’s back was still faced towards him.

“We no longer have anything to gain by travelling together. I need to find my own way.”

Not wanting to stay for any of Iroh’s possible rebuttals, he silently reached for his belongings that he had pre-packed for the occasion and turned to make his solo journey into the forest. As he began to walk further into the woods on his own, Iroh knew he wouldn’t turn back for him, so he did the first thing he could think of to aid his nephew if he couldn’t physically be there for him.

“Wait!” Rushing over Iroh grabbed the Ostrich Horse and gave him to Zuko- for someone who has barely been exposed to the real world, he knew his nephew couldn’t do entirely on his own. Even if the animal couldn’t properly speak with him.

Accepting his uncles’ gesture, he climbed on top ready to get on with his own mission of sorts. On his own, Zuko would finally have the chance to do something he never had time to consider until now; find you.

Looking out onto the horizon, the giant, ugly piece of machinery continued to charge its way towards a hopeless group of young teenagers. “Despite how much I hate that girl, I will admit, her determination is unparalleled.”

“Eerrnngggghhhhh!”

“You can say that again.”

It had been approximately three days since Azula received her new toy, and she spent every single minute catching up with the Avatar. To your relief, she seems to have finally caught sight of him, and hopefully, this would also mean that you might finally be able to stop tailing her. In the past three days, you haven’t managed to catch a single minute of sleep or a break, and while this was something you have experienced before, you were sure that your ride was more than ready to collapse at any second.

In all honesty, when a Fire Nation hawk landed near your campsite four days earlier, the last thing you expected was word that you would be receiving assistance for your mission. Not once before had this occurred since you’ve been entirely left to your own devices. You supposed it was because the stakes were too high this round.

***

Y/N.

I am pleased to hear that my daughter is able to catch sight of the Avatar and his assistants in crime against my great nation. While I am sure you are clearly focused on your task with ensuring Azula succeeds in bringing my disgraceful relatives back to the palace, you must extend your attention towards the new targets as well. Regarding my son and brother, I was disappointed when I heard word that they got away since I made it perfectly clear that you must finish the job. On this occasion, I will take the benefit of the doubt since it would be too suspicious if you completed the mission on Azula’s first attempt.

I have dispatched 3 mongoose lizards for Azula and her company. A fourth will be on its way for your use, as it is paramount that you do not let her fail whatsoever.

I have taken the precious and personal time out of my day to write and send this letter so that word does not reach my daughter of your mission. Let this also be a reminder of the possible bounty on your head if you choose to fail. I am sure the pitiful state of your body is enough of a reminder of what I can do to you.

Regardless of your past services to me, remember this is the ultimate test of your loyalty to your nation and me.

Your Fire Lord, Ozai.

Despite informing you that help that was on its way, you spent the rest of the night in a state of turmoil. Talk about having a way with words.

How in Spirits name did that stupid bird find me?! It flew away quickly too so I guess I don’t need to send anything back but… What am I really doing here?

Ozai seems to have some way of finding me so clearly, I can’t run away. Yet, I’m not going to allow him to take anyone back to the Capital…

Frozen in your thoughts, your focus stayed fixated on the fire you ignited earlier in the night.

Fuck I wish I could talk to her. She’d know the right thing to say, and everything would be okay again.

Roughly tugging at your braided hair, you held your legs to your chest desperately trying to clear your head. Stop, don’t think about her too.

Oblivious to any concept of time, when the first rays of yellow and orange peak over the horizon, your mind instantly enters a state of calm. Almost as if it were able to strengthen you from your core. Although while the problem remained, with a stronger mindset, you forced yourself to accept that you were just going to have to work it out further down the line. At this rate with Azula’s split focus, you weren’t even sure if you would have to take care of the Avatar or Zuko first.

***

Funnily enough, it seemed that fate decided you would have to deal with both at the same time since Zuko has caught sight of Azula and friends and now you were tailing both him and his sister. How convenient.

I wonder where Iroh is? Didn’t he get away with Zuko when they ran off the ship?

After keeping out of sight through every moment Azula came even remotely close to Aang, you decided to follow her when she separated from Mai and Ty Lee. But before you entered the area to keep an eye on everything from afar, you noticed Zuko on his Ostrich Horse as if he was waiting for the right moment to interfere.

“Be careful Zuko.”

Whipping around at a speed that could give him whiplash, his face instantly turned into nothing short of a scowl when he recognised your voice.

“You again?! Whoever you are, you need to get away from me. Leave. Me. Alone!”

Attempting and failing to take a step closer to him as he steers his horse a few steps back. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just trying to protect you, that’s all I want to do. If I could have it my way, you’d be far away from this place; away from Azula. You can’t trust her. This isn’t right, and you should be somewhere that could give you a fresh start, like Ba Sing Se.”

“As if you would know anything about Azula or why I’m here! I need to regain my honour, and I’m doing the right thing! Stop trying to meddle with my life when your role in it is completely insignificant!”

An indignant sigh passes through your lips. “Fine. Just be careful. Please.”

Scowling at you once more Zuko tugs the reigns on his ostrich horse to take him further into the abandoned village. You try not to let his anger get to you, but at this point, you’re unsure if you’re more upset or annoyed with his attitude. Sighing under your mask, you do a quick check that all of your weapons are strapped in place since it seems that this interaction isn’t about to end peacefully.

“Let’s do this.”

Hopping off your new lizard friend, you stealthy broke through one of the broken windows of a nearby building, ensuring that you were staying out of sight.

Ah, it seems he wasn’t wasting any time.

“Back off Azula. He’s mine.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

As the three of them got into their fighting stances, you almost wanted to jump in right then and there to help Aang. The sight of his painfully dark under circles was too much of an indicator that this fight wasn’t going to be an easy one.

Making the first move, Azula strikes her blue fire towards Zuko. Luckily enough for him, he was able to deflect it with his own. Observing the fight take place before you, it eventually gravitates further away, leaving you to only listen to what is occurring from your hidden spot.

I wonder how long until I’ll have to step in. With both Zuko and Azula on the offence, it’s clear that one of them is going to get hurt. Something tells me it’s not going to be Azula either. If only he fought smarter rather than harder.

What. A. Pity.

Soon enough, your suspicions were confirmed when you heard Zuko let out an angered scream, followed by a loud crash. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t let out a small snicker at that.

As Aang comes back into view, you scan around for an exit knowing that if you stay where you are, you’ll get caught. Yet when you make your move to run, half of the roof is swiped off clean, causing him to plummet towards the ground. Abandoning any thought, you sprint back to where he’s about to land, quickly catching him.

Stunned that there was another person in a building, Aang frantically looked around, trying to identify who it was that caught him. Eventually, he noticed your eyes peering through some of the broken wooden ceiling around him, your black mask confirming that it was you. “Woah! What…? Oh spirits, it’s you!”

Eye’s widening at how fast he managed to work out that it was you, you desperately tried to dig yourself into the wreckage as you felt Azulas fire coming closer. “Shhh! She’s coming.”

“What? How do you know-?”

As Azula saunters into the building, her infamous smirk adorning her face. Wordlessly lighting up the room's perimeter in flames, Aang begins to struggle against the piece of wood on top of him, consequently crushing you further from under him.

Letting out a small grunt, you scold him under your breath, “stay calm.”

Your inner peace y/n.

Just as Azula raised her right hand to strike, you closed your eyes, imagining a moment you felt at peace. A moment that made you forget all of the chaos your created in the world.

***

Cold, smooth fingertips tenderly reached out towards you, instinctively making your lungs tightly squeeze together as she brushed the hair out of your eyes. The delicate giggle emitting from her pink stained lips was enough for you to lose all sense of constraint as you take a small step towards her. Hesitantly as you stare that the ground, you take her hand in yours, stroking the back of it with your thumb. The action is so small yet feels so loud in your chest because this is as close as its ever gotten.

Just when you’re about to pull it away completely, terrified that you’ve gone too far, her other hand reaches up, lifting your chin ever so softly as she makes you look at her.

“It’s funny y/n, because even though I’ve lived here my whole life, I’ve never seen snow look quite as beautiful as it does in your hair.”

***

When you reopen them, the heat of your fire runs its way through your veins and your fingertips. The fallen remains all around you burst away, freeing yourself and Aang from its constrains. Seeing your golden fire of pure energy light up the room, Azula is stunned into place, instantly recognising it from the day she visited your cell all those years ago. Glowing golden, eyes peering into the deepest parts of her, it's unnerving how the unusual feeling sinks into her bones. Yet, her moments of distraction leave her as Katara reaches the entryway whipping her arm with water.

Complete rage fills Azula’s body. Not only had she been wholly blindsided by your presence, but she also lost focus. And Azula never loses focus.

Whirling around, she strikes at Katara, sending her running out into the open. Needing to make up for her prior incompetence, Azula runs after her.

“Woah! How did you do that?! That was so cool.”

“There’s no time; you need to go out there and help your friends. Never underestimate that princess.”

Aang’s amazement towards how you freed both of you from the crushing weight of the ceiling faltered as he noticed your choice of words.

“Come with me. Please. I need you.”

Sensing the certainty of his decision, you brushed off some ash from your clothing, wordlessly making your way out of the building.

I’m going to regret this.

With Aang following closely behind, you both join Sokka and Katara, and they face Azula, ready to corner her. Yet she wasn’t giving up just yet. Sending her fire with precision, she takes turns in having a shot at each of you. Luckily enough, you were all able to hold your own.

Backing away slowly, you can tell she thinks that she’s almost about to get a proper hold of the entire situation. But to your greatest joy, she falls flat on her face.

“I thought you guys could use a little help.”

This must be Aangs new earth bending teacher.

“Thanks.” Did Katara just smile?!

Not wasting the opportunity that came with their small distraction, she makes a run for an ally as an escape. Although, once again, she is faced with another hurdle being Iroh, ultimately allowing all seven of you to finally corner her.

In true fashion, she doesn’t allow it to bother her one bit, “well, look at this. Enemies and traitors all working together.”

Taking in everyone one by one, she pauses when her eyes lock with yours. “Even you. Pathetic scum, it seems you still haven’t learnt your lesson. I always told father we should have disposed of you from the moment we caught you.” With that comment, you see Zuko glance towards you in your peripheral vision. This is nowhere near the time right now coal brain.

“I’m done.” Raising her arms in surrender, you almost want to laugh. Do these people seriously believe Azula right now?

“I know when I’m beaten. You got me. A princess surrenders with honour.” Standing before everyone, you instinctively fixate yourself on her, searching for a microexpression to indicate what she’s really about to do. Her smug smile clearly shows that she’ll most likely attack. But who?

By the time she decides on her target, it’s too late. Sending a direct stream of fire towards Iroh, Zuko lets out a horrified scream, instinctively setting off everyone to attack with their element, or weapon in Sokkas case. You on the other hand, rushed to Iroh’s side knowing that the others were more than capable on their own.

As he lays passed out on the ground, panic slowly swarms in your chest. Fuck, another person is dying because of me! I literally saw her focus on him!

Placing your hands on his chest, you let out a deep breath trying to remember a trick you learned on a mission a while back when you got a deep cut to your side. Focusing on him and his faint heartbeat, despite being a bit shaky, you were able to use your fire, providing him with enough energy to bring his breathing to a steady rate. But the moment was short-lived when you heard an explosion go off, giving Zuko the opportunity to get to his uncle's side, and in turn, shove you away from him.

“Get off him! You’re always in the way! Arghhhh!”

Haistly scrambling to your feet, you stand beside Sokka, understanding that it’s best you try not to help him right now. Katara, on the other hand, didn’t seem to share those feelings with you.

“Zuko, I can help.”

“LEAVE!” as he strikes towards you and everyone else, you stumbled backwards. Memories of a similar flame being struck towards you by his father felt like something inside you snapped. While not directly hitting you, the heat radiating down upon you caused your head to spin, and vision to blur.

It seemed that despite training with fire for the past three years, the action coming from him sent you down a spiral incomparable to anything else.

i-I can’t... I’m…

The earth bender girl immediately sensing what was happening to you didn’t hesitate, “Sokka! Grab her! Quickly, we need to go to Appa.”

“What?! Why me!”

“Shut up!! Her heart rate is literally through the roof right now. We need to help her! Can’t you see her shaking right in front of you?!”

Finally taking a good look at your trembling form, Sokka was too stunned to move.

Aang immediately agreeing with Toph, nudges him before setting off in the direction of Appa. “Sokka, NOW!”

Snapping out of his panicked, frozen state, he rushes towards you, scooping you up into his arms.

“Oh Spirits, I am so so sorry if I’m invading your personal space right now. Please, I’m so sorry. It’ll only be until we reach Appa, okay? I’m so…”

Fisting the cloth of his shirt, you shake your head. “It’s o-okay.” Pushing your face into his chest, you try to regulate your breathing in time with his heartbeat. Something was so unexplainably comfortable about having someone hold you that all of the memories of Ozai burning you, began to make its way back into the depths of your mind. So comforting, that at some point between the village and Appa, you passed out.

When you awoke again, you were high up in the clouds with the sun high in the air. How long was I out?

Deciding to sit upright, the first thing you see is the Water Tribe siblings and the earth kingdom girl facing you.

At first, you thought Toph was about to speak up, yet it seemed that Katara’s suspicions of you beat her to the punch. “Don’t think of moving too fast or trying anything! You're cornered now.”

Your eyebrows raised at that. “Alright, then. How would you like me?”

Upon, hearing your voice Aang physically perked up, completely beaming that you were awake. Without a second thought, he trusted that Appa would be able to fly for a bit on his own, making his way to all of you.

“I’m so glad that you’re okay! I was really worried about you.” Taking his place next to Katara, you were shocked at the stark contrast between his attitude towards you, and hers. It’s like he genuinely cares. Well… I guess that makes sense considering he’s an Air Nomad. Oh spirits, does this mean he’s going to pay even more attention to me than when we first met?!

“Uh… thanks. I appreciate it, but you really didn’t have to.”

“No, of course I did! Plus, I’m grateful that you helped me out with Azula! It’s the least we could do. Right guys?” Still having his glowing smile, he turns to his friends, and it seemed that the only one who truly looked indifferent with the entire matter was the earth kingdom girl who just nodded.

“Thanks, Toph!” Finally, a name.

Once again, Katara was displeased, “yeah whatever. If she’s going to stay with us, she’s going to have to tell us who she is. Don’t think we didn’t hear what Azula said back there about you. You need to explain what she meant by that. How does she know you, and what do you have to do with the Fire Lord?!”

At those questions, you weren’t too happy either, “I don’t want to stay with you! I just need to leave and find Azula again.”

For the first time since you woke up, Sokka decided to say something. “Why would you ever want to do that?! Why do you keep wanting to go back to her when you keep getting separated?! If you ask me it’s clearly a sign that you should stay away because she’s completely insane! She even knows you followed her and everything, so she’s going to have her guard up.”

“You don’t understand. If I don’t get back to Azula, people are going to get hurt. I’ve literally saved your lives on two occasions just by tailing her. Now, think about all of the people she can harm when no one’s watching. I’m also a threat to all of your destinies by being here.”

Uncomfortable with the tension that’s been building at an alarming rate, Aang moves so that he’s sitting in between you and the other three. “Okay, I understand, but could you please explain why you’re a threat by being here? You need to stay safe too, your life matters just as much as everyone else’s and even though you’ve proven yourself more than capable of protecting yourself, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll be safe if you go to her and I can't let you go knowing your life is at risk.”

“Aang, there are always risks. Spirits, all four of you are at risk, but you know that it's for the greater good to end this war.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not the same. We have each other; we look after each other. You don’t have that. Please. You don’t have to tell us everything now. I understand since we’ve only met once before, but I promise no matter what it will all be okay and you can be apart of our team. Our family.”

On that note, you hesitated. A family?

No. The spirits have made it clear enough that a family is not in my cards.

“That sounds great, but I don’t think it’ll work out.”

Sokka lets out a frustrated groan, “What? Of course, it will! I know I’m not your biggest fan, but it's clear you’re just as against the Fire Nation as the rest of us!”

Looking around at all of their faces, you can tell that even though Sokka and mainly Katara, still clearly have their reservations about you, they understand where Aang is coming from. Heck, if it meant that they had another person on their side and against Azula and the Fire Nation, that was already a win. You almost felt guilty when you saw their horrified faces as you revealed the truth.

“It won’t work because I’m the Fire Lords personal assassin.”

taglist: @slythergirlimagines @mangoberry43 @eridanuswave @whiskeywinter89 @kaylove12 @simplyfandomish @khaleesi-of-assassins @callums-keith @ilovespideyyy @calciumcow @blackhood5sos @nnon-it-up @lozzybowe @scarletemeterio @reclusive-chicken-nugget @simpinforsukka @chewymoustachio @tiffy119 @sokkassuki @spearbatty

a/n: hehe hiya friends!! Thanks for reading hehe I hope you enjoyed!! Lelel lmk your thoughts or any predictions for what you think is guna happen next hehe

alsoooo did anyone spot my lil inserts for our second lead? AHAHAHAHAHA

don’t fear either!! Zuko will learn eventually hehehe

but anyway i would love to hear from all of you if you have any feedback as well :))

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