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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 4 years ago

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The Angel Nextdoor

Pairing: Artist!Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: This is the first Tom fic I’ve ever posted and I’m a little nervous, but I’m really proud of it. I hope you guys really like it, I’d love to hear your feedback. Now, this is my Valentine’s day special, and I know what you’re thinking, “Ashley, how can you post a Valentine’s say special on February 15th? It doesn’t make any sense.”. But to that I say, you’ve just never seen this kind of innovation, I’m an artist and I have to take risks like this sometimes. I hope you can understand, love you all xx

Summary: Tom’s latest assignment might just give him the push he needs to finally confess his feelings.

Masterlist

Promt list

“This is the handout for your final, we’re going to talk about it more next class, but for now just look this over and start brainstorming,” Ms. Miller passed a stack of papers down the row with a smile, “You’ll have a full month to work on it so I expect really polished pieces for this.”

Tom glanced over the requirements before settling at the prompt.

‘Paint someone close to you (friend, family member, significant other, ect…) in the style of their favorite artist or painting.’

It seemed simple enough, and he could think of a handful of people to ask. Definitely not family, he didn’t want to travel home and back that frequently. He could ask Harrison, and he was sure he would say yes, but there was one person who really stuck out in his mind. It was (y/n) of course, who better to paint than the most beautiful person in the world? And could anyone really expect an artist like him not to want to paint the object of her affection? Of course actually doing it was a different story. Asking her to let him paint her was a daunting task, one Tom was sure he couldn’t complete. So he was going to paint Harrison.

“Try to come to class with a narrowed down list of who you may end up painting, you’ll need to know for sure by Friday,” Ms. Miller sighed as the class began packing up, “I’ll see you all on Wednesday.”

Tom shoved everything in his bag and went straight for the dinning hall, where he was supposed to meet Harrison and (y/n) for lunch. He debated again trying to ask her, but quickly shoved the thought from his mind. She had inspired his work before certainly, it was inevitable that she’d inspire him, or her image would wander to his mind when he was working, but he had never painted her. Of course he wanted to paint her directly, but it was intimate, it always felt wrong to do without her permission. Just asking to paint her surely would have revealed his feelings too, something he wanted to do on his own terms, when he was ready, with concrete proof that she liked him back and he wouldn’t embarrass himself.

“That’s not a happy face,” Harrison hummed as Tom sat down in front of him, “Bad grade or something?”

“No, we just got our final already,” he sighed, letting his bag fall besides him.

“Already?”

He nodded, “Yeah, she wants it to be really polished.”

“Does it seem really hard?”

“It’s nothing I can’t do, I’m gonna need your help though.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve seen me paint before right?”

Tom rolled his eyes, “Obviously not with that. I’m just supposed to paint someone close to me and I don’t want to drive home every other day so I was gonna ask if I could paint you.”

Harrison knit his brow in confusion, “Why wouldn’t you ask (y/n)?”

Tom flushed, “Absolutely not.”

“Why not? You two would get to spend a lot of time together, alone. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yes, and I’d like to paint her, but it’s so intimate. I want to be the one to tell her I like her, not a painting. Plus she could say no and then I’d never be able to show my face in public again.”

“There is no way she would say no,” Harrison rolled her eyes, “Just ask her, she’d be happy to help and you might just finally see that she’s into you. Then I can stop watching you two pine over one another.”

“No, just drop it,” Tom ordered, spotting (y/n) approaching their table, “Don’t say anything to her.”

“Hey boys,” she smiled as she sat besides Tom, “How were classes?”

“Mine were fine, Tom’s already getting his finals though.”

Tom shot him a glare while she sighed, “That’s brutal, I’m sorry Tom.”

“I’ll survive,” he hummed, “It’s not anything too rough.”

“What is it?” she asked curiously.

“Just painting someone I know,” his cheeks dusted pink, “Nothing too hard.”

“Too bad I can’t help you out with it more,” Harrison bit his cheek, “Maybe (y/n) could pose for you.”

Tom decided he’d have to push Harrison out their dorm window when they got home.

“Oh yeah, I don’t mind,” she smiled kindly to him.

“It’s okay, it’s probably going to take me awhile and I know you’re busy, I can just ask one of my brothers,” he insisted.

“And drive home every other day? That’s ridiculous, I’ll just do it.”

Tom sucked in a deep breath, trying to decide quickly what the right decision to make was. But he was a painter, he couldn’t give up the chance to paint something so perfect in good conscience, and he didn’t really want to say no either.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” he smiled to her.

“No problem. So what do I need to do?”

“I’m supposed to paint you in the style of your favorite artist, or painting.”

“Well…” she tapped her lip thoughtfully, “Oh, they guy that painted those little cupids, and he did that Birth of Venus you showed me with all the cupids in it, I really liked his stuff. What was his name again?”

“William-Adolphe Bouguereau,” Tom pursed his lips, “I could do that, it’s not too far off from what I like to do anyway.”

“Cool, I guess I should start practicing my poses then?”

He chuckled, “No, we’ll just do something comfortable for you,” he bit the inside of his cheek, “There’s a bit of planning to do first, like what you’re gonna wear and the colors I’m gonna use, and sketching, I’ll just need a few days.”

“Well why don’t you come over and we can raid my closet? Maybe I can help with some of the other stuff too.”

Harrison was smiling like a proud dad when Tom glanced over at him, “Um, yeah, that would be good, I could come over after class Wednesday?”

“It’s a date.”

“I laid out some clothes already,” (y/n) smiled to Tom as she led him to her room, “I mean you’ll know better than me, but I tried to pick some things I thought would paint well.”

“Thanks, I was thinking something really simple would be best,” he began examining the clothes on her bed, smiling when he spotted the same white, babydoll dress she liked to wear whenever it got hot, “How about this one? It has that sort of angelic feel.”

She picked up the dress and held it against her, “It’s the comfiest too.”

He laughed, “Well that one for sure then. Next would be location, and I know you really like L'Amour et Psyché, enfants, so I thought it would be nice to have you sitting on a cloud to reference that.”

“Whatever you think is best Tom, you’re the artist,” she hummed, “I think that sounds nice though.”

“I think we’ll do that then. Do you want to toss the dress on so we can run through some poses?”

She nodded and Tom stepped outside, allowing her a moment to change. He’d thought about the painting all night, sketching out different poses and swatching colors he wanted to try. The anger he’d felt towards Harrison at lunch had faded almost instantly to excitement. He’d hung out with her a million times before, but he usually let his nerves get the best of him if things started getting flirty. Painting always relaxed him though, and he was sure that he would be able to make his feelings known once he was behind the canvas.

Of course, unbeknownst to Tom, her feelings were quite similar. Tom was handsome, of course, and funny and kind, and she got along with him better than anyone else. She had never felt the way she felt for him with anyone else, but flirting was hard. She always got nervous and backed off, there was just too much at risk. She didn’t know if Tom felt the same way, and she didn’t want to risk damaging their relationship by telling him she was into him. Of course she was happy just to help Tom for the class, but she thought it was a good chance to tread the waters.

“Ready,” (y/n) smiled as she left her room, “Where do you want me boss?”

“The couch is fine,” he was holding his sketchbook now, holding it firm against his chest, “If you could sit kind of sideways and put your arms on the back of the couch.”

She sat as he told her, glancing over her shoulder at him, “Like this?”

“That’s really nice, very reminiscent of the original…” he glanced down at his sketchbook, “Are you comfortable?”

“It’s a little awkward,” she admitted.

“Then it’s a no. How about with your hands in front of you, just resting.”

“This is better,” she smiled as she switched positions, “But if you want me the other way I don’t mind.”

“I just want you to be comfortable,” he assured before glancing back at the sketchbook, “Why don’t you try on your stomach, with your arms under your head.”

She giggled as she moved, kicking her legs like a child, “This is like the fifth grade slumber party position. I feel like we’re gonna play truth or dare.”

He rolled his eyes, “You’re never going to break into the modeling industry if you mess around like that.”

“You’re lucky I’m not a model or I’d be charging,” she stuck her tongue out before laying her head on her hands, “Is this right?”

“Almost, just cross your arms like this,” he set her arms in the position he wanted before stepping away again, “Are you comfy like that?”

“Yeah, I could sleep like this.”

“Good, there’s just one other pose I wanted to try. Could you roll over?”

She flipped to her back and set her hands over her stomach, “Do I look like an angel now?”

“Almost,” he moved one of his arms, extending it above her head and leaving the other over her stomach, “Perfect,” he declared, looking her over with a smile, “Very angelic.”

Her cheeks dusted pink and she bit down on her cheek, “Thanks.”

“I think this is the one,” he scribbled a few things in his sketchbook, “What do you think?”

"I could lay here all day."

“Perfect, can you stay there for a few so I can sketch you?”

She nodded, drumming her fingers along her stomach, "Did you get a better explanation of the project today?"

"Yeah, she said our grade is going to be focused on the emotion of the piece since we're painting someone close to us. She wants us to focus on portraying them how we see them."

"How are you gonna portray me then?" she blushed as she questioned him.

"An angel," he spoke without thinking, his cheeks flushing instantly, "Not with wings or anything, just sort of what I'm going for."

She was sure her face was about to catch on fire, "You don't have to do that, I mean I like the angel paintings, but you should portray me how you see me."

"I am, it just happened to fit with what you like," he tried his best to conceal his face behind his sketchbook as he spoke, "You're really sweet, and you always make everyone around you really happy, I think an angel is fitting."

“I think you’re like that,” she met his eyes, just barely peeking over the edge of his sketchbook, “You always make me happy.”

“I’m really glad I do,” he bit the inside of his cheek nervously, “I think I’ve got everything I need for today, I’ll do some thumbnailing tonight and go pick up some supplies.”

“Cool,” she sat back up, twirling some of her hair nervously, “So when do you want to start?”

“You have that essay right? Why don’t we do Saturday? I don’t want to take up a bunch of your time.”

“That’s sweet but I’m gonna procrastinate no matter what,” she giggled, “Saturday is good though, then we’d have all day to work.”

“I’ll be over at ten then,” he closed his sketchbook before shoving is back into his bag, “If you really want to procrastinate you could come to the store with me. I mean I have to make sure I can match your skin and hair and everything…”

“Well sure, but if you want even more of my very valuable time I at least expect you to buy me some tea.”

He laughed, “Fine, fine, we’ll stop for tea.”

Day 1

Tom was surprised by how awake (y/n) was when he arrived, she was never much of a morning person. When he showed up she had brewed some tea for them both and was already wearing the white dress they’d agreed upon. Tom had drawn about a thousand thumbnails before finally deciding on exactly what he wanted the painting to look like. He decided he’d start on it Friday night, figuring it would be good to get most of the background out of the way so he could focus on painting her while they were together. She gushed over how good the painting already looked, telling him they were the most perfect clouds she’d ever seen while he set up his work station. She was always hyping him up, he appreciated it, even though he was nervous to get started.

“You ready?” he asked finally.

She nodded, “Yeah,” she sat down, doing her best to mimic the pose she had earlier in the week, “Am I good?”

Tom nodded, “Perfect.”

“Awesome, I won’t move a muscle.”

He chuckled, “You can move. Just not too much,” he sighed, picking up his palette and taking one more moment to stare at his canvas, “Okay, time to start.”

(y/n) watched him quietly at first, watching the cute way he stuck out his tongue when he concentrated. She had never seen him paint, the occasional sketch sure, but with painting she’d only even seen finished pieces. They were always amazing, but she felt like getting to see the work in progress was something special. Most people never got to meet someone as passionate or as talented as Tom, let alone get to be the subject of their work.

“Do you mind if I draw the curtains?” Tom broke her trance.

“It’s your painting.”

He laughed, “No, I mean open them. Why on earth would I add a window to a painting of you in the sky?”

“I don’t know how your artist brain works, maybe you think clouds have windows,” she laughed in response, “Go ahead, I thought you wouldn’t want the lighting changing all day.”

“Well I’m going to paint the light source where I want it to be,” he explained as he stood, “But I want to make sure I’m painting you how you’d look in more natural light. Maybe angels have windows, but I’m nearly certain they don’t have iridescent light bulbs.”

“You seriously think heaven has fluorescent lighting?”

“I think they use the sun,” he deadpanned, though a smirk tempted the corners of his mouth, “You can turn on the tv or something.”

“That’s okay, I like watching you.”

He furrowed his brow in confusion, “Why? I’m just staring at a canvas.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s something you're passionate about, it’s cute watching you get in the zone.”

“Oh,” he blushed and turned his attention back to his work, “Thanks. I’ll be more talkative once I get a little further along, I just really like to concentrate in the beginning.”

“It’s fine,” she assured again, “I’m not bored Tom, I don’t mind a bit of quiet time.”

“Okay.”

Truthfully he didn’t mind it either, at least when he was with her. He just liked being in the same room together, even if they were just studying or watching a movie, it was nice to just be together.

Day 2

“Would you mind if I came over after class tomorrow?” Tom questioned, breaking (y/n)’s attention from the tv.

“That’s fine by me,” she smiled to him, “It’s not like I usually have plans with anyone else on a Monday afternoon.”

“Yeah, no one else can stand you,” he chuckled while she feigned offense.

“You know I could be charging you for this? I’m doing this for free out of the goodness of my heart.”

“You think I have money? I’m a starving artist darling, free is all I can afford.”

“You better be nice then,” she teased with a smile.

“I’m cooking you lunch aren’t I?” he sighed before setting his paints down, “Speaking of which, I think I’m ready for a lunch break.”

“Me too,” she rubbed her stomach, “Break time?”

He nodded, “Yeah, you still want pasta?”

“You know I do,” she winked as she stood up, stretching her arms up above her head, “Can I peak?”

He nodded, “It still doesn’t look like much, but I’m making good progress.”

She bounced over to the painting, smiling ear to ear as she took in all he had done, “It looks more and more amazing every time I see it. This is amazing Tom, seriously it looks so good already.”

He smiled, blushing at the praise, “Thanks, I think it’s coming along really well.”

Day 3

Tom was making much quicker progress than he had expected, he just found it very easy to find his rhythm every time they sat down to work. Part of it was her, part of it was the subject matter, also her. He was pretty sure all the hours he’d previously spent staring at her had something to do with it too. So far he was proud of his work, though he was sure it wouldn’t have been possible for a painting of her to look bad anyway. When he sat down to paint her he didn’t have to think about it much, just paint, it came very natural. It just felt naturally to immortalize someone like her, but the talking helped the most. Normally he painted alone and he’d wear himself out or hit some kind of wall and be forced to stop, but he hadn’t had that problem since working with her. It was like his hands moved on their own while he just hung out with his best friend. It was just easy...

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you stay so clean when you paint?”

“I figured it out around the same time I stopped fingerpainting.”

She laughed, “Okay well when I try to paint I still get at least some paint on my hands and arms and stuff, you never get paint anywhere.”

“This is the third time you’ve seen me paint, I’ve gotten messy plenty of times but I’m trying really hard not to get paint all over your house.”

“Have you ever painted a girl?” she giggled, “Her body I mean, like gotten naked and painted on each other?”

He flushed suddenly, “No, have you?”

“No, but it would be fun wouldn’t it?”

“It would be cold,” he pursed his lips, he was well hidden by the canvas, so he had a lot more confidence in his ability to be cheeky, “We can take a break if you want to try it out.”

She went quiet for a moment, Tom thought he might have to throw himself out of her window but when he looked at her her cheeks were just as red, and she decided to press on, “What would you paint?”

“Depends where I’m painting.”

She bit her bottom lip, a playful smile overtaking her despite her pink cheeks, “Well I would paint a grid and play tic tac toe on your abs.”

She burst into laughter at her own awful joke and Tom did his best to fight off his own laughter, “That was not funny.”

“Yes it was that’s hilarious!” she kept laughing, clenching her stomach and rolling onto her side, only to find there was no room and roll onto the floor with a thud, “Ow.”

Tom started laughing, “You deserve that for making such a shit joke.”

“Fuck off,” she groaned.

Day 4

“Do you ever get lonely living here all alone?” Tom knit his brow as he tried to perfect her nose.

She nodded, “Sometimes, but I don’t really want a roommate you know? I need a boyfriend or something so I can just call him over when I decide I want someone to spend the night.”

“You could call me,” Tom didn’t dare peek out from behind the canvas after that comment, “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted me to spend the night sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we could even build a pillow fort and play truth or dare.”

She laughed lightly, “Well who could pass up an offer like that?”

Day 5

Rather than painting the whole night, Tom and (y/n) had decided to get some studying done, putting them at a much later start when they eventually did get to the painting. (y/n) seemed tired, and Tom had told her they could skip the night, especially since he was making such good progress already, but she had insisted she was fine. So they started working, and (y/n) watched tv, half away while Tom started working. The painting was coming along amazing, and Tom had planned to just get some of the more tedious, detailing work done and let her get to bed, but of course once he actually started working it was a different story. He had quickly gotten wrapped up in his work, not stopping until the noise of the tv stopped, the screen flashing to ask if anyone was still watching.

“Sorry, I was just getting in the zone I-” Tom stopped mid sentence, spotting her already passed out on the couch. Her head was tossed to the side and one of her arms hung off the couch. The sight was endearing, but Tom felt bad about not noticing, “Oh dear,” he set his pallet down and stood up, flicking the tv off before approaching her, “Well come on darling, let’s get you to bed,” he nudged her lightly, “(y/n), time to wake up.”

She stirred slightly, a small groan leaving her lips before her eyes peaked open, “Tommy?”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips, “I would have carried you, but you’ve got to lock up behind me.”

She yawned, “Sorry, I’ll stay awake Tom, you can keep working.”

“You’re exhausted sweetheart, you need to get some sleep,” he smiled, setting a hand on her cheek carefully, “I got a lot done today anyway, promise.”

“Okay,” she yawned again before taking his hand, “I’ll help you clean up.”

“I’ll take care of it, why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

She nodded again, pushing herself up sleepily and padding off to her bedroom. Tom smiled to himself while he cleaned up, thinking about how nice it would have been to carry her off and tuck her in, or better yet fall asleep besides her. He could only hope he’d get there one day, if he could ever force out his feelings. It was seeming more and more possible everyday. Just as he’d suspected, hiding behind the canvas had made it much easier to flip the conversation to something flirty, and much to his delight, she didn’t seem to mind, if anything she flirted back.

“Looks good,” (y/n) hummed as she glanced over the painting, “Tomorrow we should be able to start early.”

“Thank you, honestly at this rate I’ll only need a few more days.”

“That’s awesome Tommy, I can’t wait to see it all done.”

“Me too,” he tossed an arm over her shoulder with a smile, “Come see me out.”

“I am, I am,” she smiled as he led her to the door, “Drive safe.”

“I will, get some sleep darling,” he kissed the top of her head before heading for the car.

Day 6

The doorbell made Tom jump, and nearly swipe a black line through one of her eyes, “Fucking hell,” he swore under his breath,

She giggles, “It’s just the pizza Tom,” she jumped off the couch, heading straight for the door, “Which means stop working busy bee we’ve got a pizza to devour!”

He pushed himself up with a sigh, “I’m in the homestretch here, I just need to push through.”

“No, you need to nourish your body and keep your mind sharp,” she winked to him as she opened the door accepting the pizza with a quick thank you.

“Smells delicious,” he plucked the box from her arms, “I think I’ll pretty much finish up tonight, but I’ll want to really polish it tomorrow when I’ve got fresh eyes. And I probably won’t want to stop once I’ve got started so eat and pee before I get here.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute or you wouldn’t get away with bossing people around like that,” she passed him a plate before tossing open the box.

“I know,” he winked to her, dishing them both a slice, “You know I probably only need another hour or so tonight, so we could watch a movie or something while we eat, then I could finish up after.”

A swarm of butterflies fluttered around her stomach, almost making it impossible for her to answer, “That sounds nice Tom, you definitely deserve to relax.”

“We both do,” he grabbed her remote as he fell down on the couch.

“I’ve been laying on the couch, relaxing is currently all I know.”

“Nah, I’m sure it gets tiring sitting there looking pretty all day,” he sucked in a sharp breath when she sat down, pressed right against his side.

“It does,” she nodded in agreement, “Alright, you pick for us alright?”

“Sure.”

He didn’t pay much attention to what he was picking, he was much more concerned with their proximity. They’d watched plenty of movies and tv shows together during their friendship, but they never sat so close. It gave Tom a lot of confidence, since she’d opted to sit besides him, he took it as a sign that his flirting was landing. So after they finished eating he decided he should also initiate something and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Without even thinking she had laid her head on his shoulder, it just felt natural. Tom pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and turned his attention to the tv.

Day 7

Tom stood up, stepping back a few feet to examine his work. He did it fairly frequently so (y/n) didn’t think anything of it and turned right back to the tv, until Tom spoke.

“It’s perfect, I’m done,” he declared with a small smile.

(y/n) raised a brow, “Seriously?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I have to seal it and everything, but the actual painting is done. I’ll turn it in on Monday.”

“Don’t you have a few more weeks?” she asked as she stood.

He nodded, “I don’t need them, I’m finished, it’s gorgeous, I don’t need to do anything else.”

“Well can I see?”

“Of course!” he grabbed her shoulders, quickly pulling her to face the work, “What do you think?”

She went wide eyed, taken back by how good he’d made her look. It was strange, seeing herself in a painting. It was done well of course, and it looked just like her, but better somehow. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was, maybe the background or the romantic theme of the painting, but she just looked better. She looked like an angel, perched on a bed of pink and blue swirling clouds, reminiscent of the paintings she likes, but distinctly Tom’s work.

“Wow,” she turned to him with a big smile, “Tom it’s incredible, I don’t know how you made me look like that.”

“That’s just what you look like.”

She shook her head, “It’s better somehow, like the perfect version of me or something. You did incredible.”

“No,” he shook his head, “That’s just you, but thank you. I’m really proud of this, I think it’s one of my best.”

She blushed, “Yeah, you’re gonna get a killer grade.”

He hadn’t thought much about the grave, the assignment had taken a back seat to just painting her, “Yeah, I hope so,” he grabbed her upper arms and smiled down at her, “You’re incredible you know that? Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

She bit her lip and nodded, “You don’t have to thank me, I had fun.”

“Me too,” his eyes caught her lips for just a moment, soft and supple and more than kissable, “I, uh, we should do something to celebrate, dinner or something.”

“That would be fun too,” she tucked some hair behind her ear, leaning towards him just slightly.

He found himself leaning in too, but as much as he wanted to kiss her, something just wouldn’t let him. He kissed her forehead and backed away awkwardly, “I, uh, need to pack everything up, I have to get the sealant on pretty quick and I left it at home so…”

The sealant was in his bag, but he felt like running away suddenly, his nerves truly getting the best of him.

Her cheeks burned in embarrassment but she nodded, ‘Y-Yeah, no problem, I’ll help you pack up.”

“Wait so let me get this straight, all this flirting and pining, you chickened out on the kiss?” Harrison’s jaw fell open in disbelief.

Tom nodded, hiding his head against his arms, “Yes, and I nearly died the first time so let's not talk about it now.”

“Dude,” he gaped, “Are you kidding me? All you had to do was pucker up!”

“I know!” Tom groaned, “I know, I don’t even know what happened, I just froze up. I mean what if I misread it? She probably didn’t want me to kiss her, in fact I know she didn’t.”

“You said she leaned in first!”

“I thought she did but I’m stupid! There’s no way she was trying to kiss me.” “It literally could not be more obvious that you two like each other so I don’t want to hear it. You need to just call her up and tell her you froze up and ask her out.”

“I can’t, I will literally drop dead.”

Harrison rolled his eyes, “Then I’ll do it.”

“Dude no! I’m not ten, I can’t send you to ask a girl out for me, that’s a guaranteed no at this point.”

“Then just tell her,” Harrison groaned, “Before I lose it, please.”

Tom was coming to terms with the fact that he was going to die alone by Wednesday morning. It was hard to accept, but easier to accept than almost kissing his dream girl and chickening out, so the choice had been easy. But apparently the universe had other plans for him, as Ms. Miller decided to pull him aside after class.

“I want to talk about your final,” she placed his painting on an easel.

He blushed, “You don’t like it?”

She shook her head, “No, no, Tom this is incredible. I was going to suggest that you enter it into the National Galleries up and coming contest.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded, “Yeah, this is amazing, it would be a shame if the world didn’t see it,” she chuckled lightly, “And I’m sure it would get you some brownie points with your girlfriend.”

“Oh, she’s not my girlfriend,” he spoke softly, pretending to cough to try and hide his words, “Just my friend.”

“You painted just a friend like this?”

He nodded.

“And remind me of the title.”

“The Angel Nextdoor.”

“Do you call all your friends angel?”

“Uh no, just her,” he bit his lip while she raised a brow at him, “She doesn’t know I’m into her.”

Ms. Miller glanced at the painting with a hum, “Has she seen the painting?”

He nodded, “Yeah, she was there the whole time.”

“I think she knows.”

He began to blush again, “Really?”

She nodded, “I could tell just from looking at it that you must really love this girl, I’m sure she can tell too,” she smiled and leaned back on her desk, “Anyways, I just wanted to let you know about the competition, I’ll have your marks soon.”

He nodded, “Thanks, I’ll, uh, think about it.”

He scrambled out of class quickly, wondering if maybe he didn’t have to die alone. Maybe he could confess, and maybe (y/n) who had gushed to him about the painting he’d poured all his love into, would reciprocate. Maybe she had leaned in to try and kiss him, and maybe, just maybe, she really did like him back. Instead of stopping at the dining hall where he was supposed to meet Harrison and (y/n) he paced right past it, towards (y/n)’s class, trying to hype himself up the whole way.

(y/n) had spent the past few days with her mind full of questions. She had leaned in, hoping Tom would get the hint and they would kiss. It seemed to be going that way but then he stopped. Tom had seemed flirty while he was painting her, and she tried her best to show her own interest. He had even held her while they watched a movie, but then he didn’t kiss her. He just kissed her on the forehead and left. She was worried she had misread everything, and almost certain she had. She was anxious about seeing him for the first time since the almost kiss, worried things would be tense or weird. So she was quite worried when she spotted him outside of her class, worried he was about to tell her to never bring up the incident and forget anything happened.

“Hey,” she smiled to him, “What are you doing here?” “I came to talk to you,” he blushed a bit, “Uh, Ms. Miller really likes my painting, she thought I should enter it in this competition for up and comers.”

“Really? Tom that’s awesome, congrats!”

He nodded, “Yeah, thanks, I thought it was really cool too, but she said she thought it was good because she could really see my emotions.”

“Also awesome, you’re gonna ace that class.”

“Okay, but, um…” he trailed off for a minute, unsure of how to force the words out, “The emotion was love, that she saw I mean. She said she could tell I really loved you, a-and I know you know that I do love you, but I love you way more than any of my other friends, and it’s different too… I mean I know I’m like a struggling artist, and that’s not the most desirable thing, and I’m not this perfect, beautiful person like you are, but I do love you, and I love you so much it’s overwhelming sometimes. The best thing I’ve ever painted is you because I love you so much, romantically.”

She stood totally frozen, with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open, making Tom’s heart pound nervously against his chest. He thought he might black out but she moved suddenly, grabbing him by the neck and kissing him hard. Her lips were plump and soft and so much better than he could have imagined. He grabbed her waist, leaning into her with a smile.

“I love you too,” she smiled as she pulled away, “I think you’re perfect and I am totally crazy about you.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded excitedly, “Of course! How could I not? You’re incredibly talented and you're funny and your kind, Tom you’re amazing, of course I am so totally in love with you.”

He smiled and sealed their lips again, “Maybe we could go on a date sometime then?”

She nodded again, “Of course, but I’ve got one condition.”

“Anything.”

“There has to be more kissing.”

He laughed before pecking her lips again, “I think I can handle that.”

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highqueenofelfhame · 4 years ago

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An: I’ll add tags later, i just wanted to get this posted because I’m like pretty happy with it, it’s alright. So i hope you guys enjoy! I’ll also attach links and stuff later, I’m posting this from my iPad and i just am too lazy for the tagging process. Me wants to sleep. This is part of the Disney au! Shoutout to @tangledraysofsunshine and @punkassbookjockey26 for the help on this one! This is mostly fluff (i know, how wild) but don’t worry i’m working on some angst for you soon. Fafs update soon too! I’ve already started on it and I’m going to keep working on it as the week goes. Thankfully it’s an easy chapter for me to write bc i have plenty of OG stuff to pull from. Okay, anyway! Enjoy!!

With every second that ticked by, it was getting harder and harder not to rummage through his belongings like she lived there. Even worse was that Rowan was sneaking glances at her with a smirk on his lips like he knew she wanted to. It made her scowl, a frown line appearing between her eyebrows as she glared into his back.

“I’m making you dinner, and you’re still finding a reason to be unhappy with me?” He asked her, putting down the spatula and turning to lean against his counter. The man looked criminally good in an ivory cable-knit sweater and dark jeans, an outfit combination that Aelin had never seen him in before. Thinking back on it, she was positive that when he wasn’t in a costume at work, she had only ever seen him in jeans and a t-shirt. There was also the single flannel he’d worn on Halloween, but all of that was simply incomparable to how he looked now.

“You said dinner would be ready ages ago.”

“I said it would be ready in half an hour when you got here, which was twenty minutes ago. I still have ten minutes before you get to hound me about lying.”

“Maybe if you’d prepared an appetizer…” she teased, hoping with every cell in her body that he knew she was kidding. When Rowan had said he wanted to cook her dinner, she’d been floored. The only meal that she could successfully make was breakfast, and the options were limited. Additionally, she couldn’t remember the last time a romantic interest had cooked for her at all. Probably Sam several years earlier, and it had been so bad they’d relented and settled on drive-thru burgers instead.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed at her, and she knew she’d missed the mark with her joke. The date had been going well so far; not much could have been ruined. He’d kissed her hello once, or four times, then told her to make herself at home. Rowan even had a beautiful arrangement of kingsflame at the table in the dining area. Their banter had ensued as it always did, casual teasing comments. Until she went too far. Obviously.

He turned his back, and Aelin tensed, moving across the kitchen to get to him. Just before she touched him, he turned back around, eyes widening almost comically when his elbow nearly hit her temple. Without her boots, her footsteps had been near-silent on his hardwood floors.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, fingers brushing her temple where his sweater had grazed her face. “Hi.”

“Hi.” With their dinner sizzling in the background, she was sure that he could hardly hear the soft whisper of her voice. That didn’t seem to matter because Rowan leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, short and sweet and leaving her wanting more. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Rowan’s brows knit together, green eyes tracing over every feature of her face before settling to meet her gaze.

“Being… me? Teasing? I don’t know. This is a date, and you’re so nice to be making dinner, and I shouldn’t be--”

“Aelin,” he laughed. “You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t busting my balls for something. I don’t think we would be us.” At the mention of them as an item, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth to ward off the embarrassingly large grin that was threatening to take over her face.

“That doesn’t mean I can be rude,” she grumbled, earning another smile from the man in front of her.

“You aren’t.” Rowan turned away from her for a brief moment. When he faced her again he held half of a cookie in his hand. “You just get hangry.”

She stared at the small offering in his hand before accepting it with a smile. Not only was he making her dinner, but it seemed he had also baked her double chocolate chip cookies. It made her heart squeeze in an almost painful way, but she took the cookie and nibbled on the corner. Whatever recipe he had used was perfect. It only made the rumbling in her belly worse, but she was determined to finish it without chocolate smeared all over her mouth.

“I’m almost done with dinner. Go snoop. I know you’re dying to.” Aelin wrinkled her nose, and Rowan was quick to kiss the tip of it, despite her failed attempt to swerve. Not that she wanted him to miss, really. Aelin wanted to beg him to kiss her until she was physically sick and couldn’t stand to feel his mouth on her body ever again.

The apartment was simple. It had one bedroom and an open living and kitchen area. Rowan had a small table that could seat four between the two rooms. It was sparsely decorated but had a few personal touches here and there that provided a glimpse into Rowan’s life. She walked around the living room, noting the pile of books stacked neatly next to the TV contained some of her favorites. She hadn’t pegged Rowan as an avid reader, but she realized that despite working with the man for the past two years, there was still so much she didn’t know about him.

And she realized, more than anything, that she wanted to know everything.

Furthermore, she’d been right about the books stacked on the coffee table. They were travel books, some of them with tabs and post-it notes sticking out of the sides. With a sly glance to the kitchen, she perched on the edge of the couch and pulled the biggest of them with the most annotations toward her, flipping through the pages to see what all he had bookmarked.

One of the first pages was a map marking all the parks and their major attractions. It seemed Rowan had a key for himself, little stars, triangles and squares marking various locations.

“The stars are my favorite places I’ve been,” Rowan said, pulling her gaze from pages of mountains and canyons and over to his green eyes.

“Is this what you do when you aren’t working?” Aelin closed the books and restacked them neatly on the table. Rowan was carrying two plates of stir-fry over to the table. In a few steps she joined him, sliding into the seat beside his.

“When I can, yes.” She was so hungry that she merely nodded, taking a too-large bite of food and meaning at the taste. Rowan’s eyebrow quirked while he took a bite of his own, and to avoid speaking with a mouthful she gave him a thumbs up.

“So good,” she reiterated after she swallowed, clearing her throat.

“I’m glad you like it. I was worried you wouldn’t.”

“It’s food. I like food. And you baked cookies,” Aelin reminded him, popping another bite in her mouth. The tickle she seemed to be developing in her throat worsened, forcing her to clear her throat again after she swallowed. Actually, the tickle was becoming an insatiable itch that she tried to chase away with water. She had no luck. “Is your um— is your throat itchy?”

“No…?” Aelin tugged on the collar of her shirt, nodding her head instead of responding. Rowan leaned over to brush his fingers along her cheek, worry settling in the wrinkle between his eyebrows. “Are you allergic to anything?”

“Gods, my mouth is itchy,” she mumbled, mostly to herself, while she downed the rest of her water so quickly a drop slipped down the side of her chin.

“Aelin. What are you allergic to?”

“I’m not allergic to anything,” she insisted, despite the way her tongue felt undeniably too big for her mouth. Rowan had already left the table, though, disappearing through a door off the living room and coming back with a small white bottle. His phone was also now in his hand and the numbers his thumb was pressing looked a lot like 9-1-1 from her vantage point.

“Take these,” he said softly, holding two pills to her lips that she opened her mouth for and downed with Rowan’s full glass of water.

“That’s dramatic.” She nodded at his phone. “I can breathe fine. My mouth is just itchy. And my tongue is a little too big.” To prove a point, she stuck her tongue out. Rowan’s eyes were saucers and he was ready to hit the call button.

“Your tongue is twice the size it usually is!”

“Did you do this on purpose? Is this getting me back for the syrup?” Aelin was kidding. Half-kidding, maybe, but kidding all the same. When she spoke, drool dribbled down her chin that she wiped at with the collar of her shirt. The whimper that sounded in the back of her throat wasn’t voluntary. It was their first date and she managed to drool on herself in front of him. Aelin Galathynius was the epitome of cool.

“This is not getting you back for the syrup.” Rowan’s voice was sharp, if still soft around the edges while he watched her carefully. His thumb was still dancing over the call button, but Aelin refused to be carted out of his apartment on a stretcher. She took his phone, locked it, and held it hostage in her lap while he fussed and mumbled about how big her tongue was. “What are you allergic to?”

“I didn’t know I was allergic to anything,” she swore again, grabbing his water for another long drink.

It went on like this for several minutes: Rowan listing the ingredients for the stir-fry that she may not have had before, or maybe she’d not had it in such a long time she forgot she had a mild allergy to it. MSG, soy, celery, sesame, carrots, on and on. He ran through everything twice before Aelin asked him to please stop, she had no idea and listing them over and over wasn’t going to spark a memory or knowledge she didn’t have.

The signature frown he wore most of the time was all the more prominent the droopier her eyes got; the effects of Benadryl were hitting her harder than she cared to admit, but her throat wasn’t as itchy and her tongue was feeling closer to normal. Rowan held both of her hands and guided her to his bedroom. Aelin wanted to make a joke about how this wasn’t what she’d had in mind, but she was too sleepy to find the words.

Rowan undressed her, pulling her jeans off before guiding her to sit on the edge of the bed. The duvet was softer, fluffier than she’d anticipated him to sleep on, and she wanted to burrow down into it as he replaced her shirt with one of his own. When he pulled back the blanket, she crawled under and didn’t settle until he laid down with her. His sweater was soft beneath her cheek and she felt like she was cuddling with him on a cloud. Gods, his bed was so comfortable she wanted to sleep in it forever.

“I’m sorry for ruining our date,” she mumbled, tilting her head back to look at him beneath heavy lashes and heavier lids.

“I’m sorry for accidentally almost killing you.” Despite the way his lips were turned down, there was amusement hidden in his words. Aelin smiled and tilted her head back enough for him to take the hint: she wanted to be kissed. A half smile spread across his lips and he kissed her gently, fingers brushing loose strands of her hair behind her ear.

“This isn’t how I imagined our date ending,” she grumbled, ducking her face down into his sweater. Rowan chuckled and Aelin knew that it wasn’t what he had in mind, either. “I thought I would end up in your bed but not to sleep. I mean, maybe after you fucked me senseless, but I didn’t think we would be skipping that part altogether.”

“I didn’t think I would make something that had flare up an obscure allergy you didn’t know you had, either. So I guess we’re both surprised.” Aelin snorted, sitting up enough to tug on the side of his sweater. Rowan took the hint, sitting up to pull the sweater and his shirt over his head. While in the process of undressing, he stood and pulled his jeans off, too, tossing them over the back of a desk chair in the corner of the room. Aelin swallowed, eyes dipping over the expanse of golden skin he’d exposed.

Her eyes caught on a scar on his lower abdomen, zeroed-in on the trail of hair that disappeared into his briefs. It dawned on her then that she hadn’t seen him completely naked. At work, they saw each other in various stages of undress while changing costumes, but the only time they’d had sex had been a quickie in Lorcan’s bathroom. They’d both been mostly clothed for that. She was making it a goal to see him entirely naked in the next twenty-four hours, because he looked so good like this it was unfair.

“Maybe I’ll feel better when I wake up,” she said, breathlessly. Rowan grinned, a dimple appearing in his cheek that she didn’t see often enough.

“I’m counting on it.”

#Disney au #Disney #rowaelin Disney au #throne of glass #tog #iwsiil #i won’t say I’m in love #rowaelin #Aelin galathynius #Rowan whitethorn #writing #my writing

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gotnofucks · 4 years ago

Text

Loving Dodger

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: Your journey of overcoming your fear of dogs to loving Dodger.

Words: 3.6k

Warning: mention of smut, language. Loads of fluff

A/N: I obviously don’t know Chris Evans, this is just a story.

MASTERLIST

+++++

Everyone was packing up and you rushed to get things in order. Your coffee had gone cold hours ago, and some poor intern would be responsible for throwing it away from wherever you had left it. Working in the film industry could be rough, and this was just backstage. You went through the set, automatically putting things in order as you moved and waved goodbye to others. Stuffing the last of your things in your overstuffed bag, you left to find a taxi. You were glad you weren’t working tomorrow morning, for you planned to have a long hot shower and an undisturbed sleep after a long time.

It was late at night and no taxis came your way. You hated taking an Uber this late, but desperate times call for desperate measures. You had only just taken out your phone when a car stopped in front of you. The driver’s side door opened, and a smiling Chris Evans greeted you.

“Can I give you a ride milady?” He asked and you snorted.

“You have the worst English accent. If you do that in London, they’ll smell the imposter in you” You said. “And it’s cool, I’m calling an uber.”

Chris frowned, leaning against the door with arms spread, his few sizes short, too tight shirt stretching over his broad frame. You felt like he needed to be arrested for the cardiac arrests he may cause.

“At this time, and even when a handsome, chivalrous man is offering a safe ride? You wound me sweetheart.” He grabbed his left boob, faking a pained expression and you sighed.

“God, you’re awful Chris. You sure it’s okay, a little out of your way isn’t it?”

“Y/n, there is not one place in the world I wouldn’t go with you”

You let your hair form a curtain to hide your blush, clearing your throat awkwardly and stepping in his car. His car smelled like his cologne, the heady scent sticking to your clammy skin. You went for the radio, soft country music running in the background.

“So, what are you doing this weekend?” Chris asked.

“I live a boring life man. I’m probably gonna clean my shit and stock my kitchen with as much instant food as I can.”

“Well, if you want, we can go somewhere. Make your boring weekend interesting.” Chris suggested, glancing at you as he maneuvered around the traffic. You fidgeted, playing with your fingers as you avoided his eyes. Saying no to him was getting difficult every time. You wished the radio was turned up louder so this conversation could be avoided.

“Oh, you know me. I like to lay in, be a lazy girl.” You tried to say nonchalantly, and Chris’s hands clenched around the wheel. You stared out the window, watching the city breeze past as things got awkward inside. You didn’t speak until he pulled up in front of your home, and you reached for the door before the car even stopped, a farewell on your tongue when you were pulled back by the seatbelt.

You blushed, hands frantically trying to undo the clasp and Chris’s hands covered yours, releasing you. You breathed deeply as he was leaning into you, face just a few inches away. You could count his lashes this close, see the exact shape of that mole on his cheek and feel his breath on you. You pulled back, quickly opening the door and almost stepping out before you were pulled back again, this time by Chris’s hand grabbing your upper arm. He tugged you back into your seat and came close enough to touch your nose with his.

“You know you can’t keep blowing me off,” He muttered. His hand tucked your hair behind your ear, blue eyes intently looking in yours. “I can’t take your no because I know you don’t mean it. Why do you keep running away?”

You gulped uneasily, wiggling out of his grip and getting out of the car. He was still looking at you, waiting for an answer. You shook your head slightly, feet kicking the ground at your feet.

“Thank you for the ride Chris. Drive safe.”

The door swung shut behind you and you walked away without another look, hiding away inside your home and trying to calm your beating heart.

+++++

You remembered disabling your alarm last night, so what the hell was that awful noise. Burrowing your head in your pillow, you tried to go back to sleep until the pounding continued. You growled, ready to rip out a new one to whoever was stupid enough to disturb your sleep. Uncaring of your attire, the t-shirt barely reaching midthigh over your panties you marched to your door, a scowl on your face.

You ripped open your door, already mid-triad before noticing who it was.

“Look, you need to shut the hell up. I work 14 hours a day, barely eat and sleep and you trying to break my door down is not –”

Chris smiled at you, amusement glittering in his eyes which raked over your bare legs. Your mouth parted for an embarrassingly long amount of time before you remembered you bed hair, morning breath (more like mourning breath) and the ratty t-shirt with holes. You pulled down on the hem, aware that you weren’t wearing a bra and it was too late to hide.

“What the hell are you doing here at this ungodly hour?” You asked Chris and he held up his hands to show he had food.

“Ungodly? Its 10 am miss, and your loyal subject is here to feed you.”

He moved past you into your house without invite, putting down the paper bag which had grease stains on it. Despite your shock and anger, your stomach grumbled, and you shut the door behind you. You rolled your eyes at his cheek, but that stuff looked too tempting to say no to.

“Since you’ve decided to intrude on my morning, make yourself useful and put on some coffee. I’m gonna change” You said and walked towards your bedroom.

“Like the way you look!” Chris shouted from behind you and you flipped him off without looking, ignoring his chuckle.

Why the hell was he here? After the way you guys had left things last night, you would have thought he would be too pissed to talk to you. You sighed as you pulled on a bra and something other than a 10-year-old t-shirt. You found him setting the table, laying down breakfast as the smell of coffee filled the kitchen. He smiled when he saw you had pulled your hair into a messy bun and winked at you.

“Here, larger portion for you.” He said handing you a plate of your favorite food. You took it, feeling like a guest in your own home as he served and poured you a mug of coffee, made perfectly as you like it. You both ate in silence for a while, the sound of cutlery the only thing to be heard. Finally, you pinned him with a stare, pushing away your plate.

“Chris, what are you doing here? Seriously.”

He chewed the morsel in his mouth before leaning his hands on the table and clasping his hands. It felt like an interview and you wished you had something better on, like an armor, to deal with whatever he was going to say.

“Well, if you want an honest answer here, I’d say I am here because I wanted to see you. I didn’t want you having some instant meal for the 10th time this week, so I got you some breakfast.”

You looked away from him, chewing on your lip. You wished he wouldn’t be so sweet. If he were a sleazy bastard, saying no to him would be so easy. Yet, here he was getting you food and being all domestic, making your life more difficult.

“Look, I appreciate this but I – Chris, we can’t happen. You need to stop this.”

It seemed like he was contemplating you, trying to guess what went on in that head of yours. He reached across to take your hand in his, lacing your fingers and stroked.

“I can’t stop. I tried, trust me I did. I can’t. I see you on the set and I want to whisk you away in the vanity away from prying eyes. I see you anywhere at all, with any other man I want to punch his face. Y/n don’t tell me I am imagining things. I’ve seen the way you look at me. You want me too, don’t you?”

The chair made a screeching noise as you snatched your hand away from his and got up, pacing the room. You were shaking your head, trying to think of a way to make him understand.

“Chris, we won’t work, you and me.”

“Why the fuck not? How can you even know if you won’t give us a chance? And I am the one who’s supposed to have fucking commitment issues.”

You wrung your hands, sitting in front of him again. He looked angry and frustrated, not knowing how much you wanted to say yes. But you knew in your heart of hearts that a very basic thing will never let you be.

“I won’t give it a chance because we’re different. We like different things, and well, sometimes they can be too much to compromise.”

“Like what, huh?”

You looked down in your lap, playing with the lint that stuck to your leggings. It was an embarrassing thing to admit, but you knew it would hold a lot of importance to this relationship. Taking a sharp breath, you told him the truth.

“I don’t like dogs. In fact, they terrify me.”

Chris lurched back as if it was the last thing he expected to come from you. He probably expected some tale of family drama or relationship trauma, but your reasons were simpler. You had cynophobia, the fear of dogs. You couldn’t be in the same room with them without getting shit scared. Chris blinked at you, like it was the dumbest thing you could have said.

“Excuse me? You refuse to go out with me because you don’t like dogs?”

You gave him a critical look, raising a brow.

“Have you seen your social media accounts? You love Dodger probably more than you love any human being. You’re a self-proclaimed ‘huge dog guy’. And me…I can’t be in the same room with one. We won’t work out Chris, and I would rather save myself the heartbreak.”

This was clearly not something Chris was prepared for. He looked baffled, not knowing what to say. You wished it were a small thing, but it wasn’t. Everyone who knew Chris could tell how much he loved dogs. His Instagram page was basically a Dodger fan page. He had the name tattooed on his body. You could never work out simply because Chris would always be choosing between you and his doggo, and you would be too busy being scared of him to enjoy your time with Chris.

He released a deep breath, straightening his shoulders.

“We’ll make it happen. A lot of people fear things, and they get over it. It can work out. When you meet Dodger, you’ll forget you’d ever been scared of a dog. He’s a good boy, trust me.”

“Chris” You said shaking your head, “You don’t understand. I like dogs but only from afar. They terrify the living daylights out of me. I just – why don’t you understand? This is already so embarrassing”

He got up and sat next to you, his hand on your shoulder. “Look, just give me one chance. I know we can be great, okay? One chance is all I am asking. If it gets too much, we end it. I promise, it will be like nothing ever happened.”

You didn’t want to believe him. You shouldn’t have, but he was the man you’d been crushing on for nearly a year now. He was smart and kind and funny, he worked for the good causes and god he was such a treat to look at. You should have said no, had your coffee and left it at that. But there was only so many times you can say no to Chris Evans, especially when he’s pursuing you like the proverbial hound of hell.

“One chance Chris.”

+++++

This was a bad idea and you were regretting it already. You were practically hiding behind Chris, bunching his shirt under both hands as your head peeked over his large body. You were not ready to meet Dodger, at least not without a bomb suit.

“Hey, relax, he’s a right love. I’ve been showing him your pictures on my phone and he loves you already.” Chris tried to placate you and you replied with a pathetic whimper.

The door had barely opened before the golden brown doggo ran towards you and you squeaked. He bounded on Chris and you, Chris laughing and rubbing him behind the ear while you backed away. Dodger kept trying to come towards you and Chris had to hold him back by the collar while offering you a hand.

“Come on Y/n, he doesn’t bite. He’s a cutie.” Chris called but you shook your head, your knees vibrating. You edged away, taking deep gulps of breath as fear overtook you. It was pathetic really how scared you were since Dodger wasn’t even a huge dog, but it still took every last bit of your willpower to not just run away.

“Chris I can’t. Please.” You begged and he must have heard the fear in your voice. He pulled Dodger inside the house, the barks getting fainter as they moved in and you stayed frozen in your track. He came out after a couple minutes and immediately took your shoulders, rubbing softly.

“Hey, hey look at me. He’s inside now, okay?”

You nodded and buried your head in his chest, feeling more embarrassed than ever. Chris hugged you, shushing you gently.

“I am so sorry Chris, I just can’t. I told you this won’t work” You said, and Chris pulled away to look in your eyes. His blue eyes were determined as they stared in yours and you blinked up at him with watery eyes.

“No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have sprung this up on you like this. We’ll start small, okay?” He urged and you bit your lip, uncertain. Chris rubbed his nose to yours, pressing a kiss on your lips and both your cheeks. “Please Y/n, just give me more time. We’ll work it out.”

You wanted it to work out too. The dates you had gone on had been nothing short of amazing. When you were with Chris you laughed like never before, the conversation so unrestrained. You didn’t worry about hiding your flaws, feeling so comfortable in his company. And then there was the sex. It was so good. In fact, it was spectacular.

“I don’t know how we’ll make it work.” You admitted softly and Chris smiled at you, cupping your face in his huge hands.

“We’ll do it together baby. Don’t give up on us just yet please.” You pressed your forehead to his and breathed in his scent, letting it wash over you. Nodding your affirmation, you let him lead you inside his house, Dodger locked inside the bedroom.

“I feel terrible for locking him in.” You said and you did. Just because dogs scare you doesn’t mean you hate them. You just feared going near them. You watched those cute puppy videos on YouTube to help relax yourself, only you didn’t want any dogs around you.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s with his stuffed lion.”

You cuddled on the couch, watching some 90s movie and you wished with everything that this would somehow work out.

+++++

It took you a while to decide if this was heaven or hell. You were awing and yelping simultaneously, and Chris laughed from behind you, his hands wrapped around your waist. Nuzzling his nose in your neck, he bit your ear softly uncaring of the people around you.

“Oh my god” You must have said this a dozen times already, but you were simply in awe. When Chris said you’ll start small you didn’t think he meant literally. In front of you were some of the cutest, softest, smallest puppies and you finally decided this was heaven.

“I figured we’ll begin from the beginning. Go up slowly, get you used to being around canines.” He bit you again as he said that and you giggled. Turning your head, you captured his lips in an elated kiss, touched that he was going to go through this with you.

“This is amazing.” You said and the corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile. He led you to the corner where a small black puppy with spots on his toes was wagging his tail at you. You awed, not afraid of him in the least.

“You wanna tell me about your phobia a little?” Chris asked as you cradled the pup in the crook of your elbow, the little darling loving your finger running over his small belly.

“It’s kinda silly but when I was four, I was chased by my neighbor’s dog. I ran like hell and it almost bit me before they got it back in control. I’ve feared them ever since.”

Chris hummed, kissing the pup in his own hands and giving you a soft smile.

“This helps?”

“This helps.” You agreed.

Chris and you must have petted a dozen puppies, holding them in your hands, cooing to them and kissing their small noses. You clicked pictures and fed them from your hands, a cacophony of kissy noises and good boys flowing from you both.

“I’m gonna have to hide these pics or Dodger is gonna get jealous.” Chris said and you snorted, snuggling into his side. It was a beautiful day at the shelter, and you were surprised at how fun it was. Tired as you were, you were also acutely aware of Chris’s hand creeping up your thigh in the car. You looked out the window, suppressing your smile.

“So, we made some progress today” He said, and you hummed. “And you had a lot of fun” You hummed again.

Chris pulled you to him roughly by your collar, his tongue poking out to just lick at your bottom lip.

“I think I deserve a reward…” He trailed off and you finally let a smile spread on your lips.

“I think you do Mr. Evans” You agreed and pressed your lips over his, hoping the driver will overlook the noises in the back.

+++++

Baby steps worked, and over the course of the next few weeks you got more comfortable around dogs. You spent a lot of time with pups of all breeds, slowly moving on to the bigger dogs. It wasn’t all easy, few visits ended in tears and hopelessness, but Chris stayed by your side. He let you set the pace, accompanying you every time and praising you for every obstacle you crossed. He didn’t mind spending most of the time at your place and waved off your apologies about Dodger.

“We’re doing this for him too, so he can get to know you better. It’s okay with me.” He assured you after a passionate round of love making. You traced Dodger’s name on his bare chest, finger roving over the other scattered tattoos. He loved it when you traced them with your tongue and bit his nipples.

“I think I’d like to try another visit with him.” You finally admitted, peeking up at him from under your lashes. Chris grinned, pulling you closer.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind waiting.”

“I think I’m ready Chris. I want to meet the good boy who’s sharing your heart with me.”

Rolling over you, Chris pressed kisses over your collar bones and chest, hands squeezing your curves. Your lips mashed together in a sloppy kiss and you felt him smile against you.

“There is no one else I’d rather give my heart to other than you and him.”

+++++

This time when the door opened you were not hiding behind Chris. You held a soft chew toy in your hand, a gift and an apology. Dodger ran towards Chris, tail wagging aggressively as he licked and nipped at every exposed bit of skin he could find. Chris giggled as he rubbed and scratched his baby, and you were very proud of not making any distressed sound or running away. When Dodger finally turned to you, you tentatively came towards him with the toy.

“Hello Dodger, you sweet sweet boy.” You greeted. You’d been with dogs almost as big as him now and felt little apprehension touching his soft coat. He whined under your touch, leaning into you and rubbing against your legs. Chris joined you, his hand finding yours in Dodger’s fur.

“Look buddy, mummy is ready to meet you. You like her, eh?”

Dodger barked in agreement, rolling over for belly rubs while you stared at Chris coyly.

“Mummy eh?” You teased and Chris blushed, kissing you softly.

“Well, only if you’ll have Dodger’s dad.” He said.

You playfully sat down on the floor, letting the cutie climb on your lap and scratching behind his ears that made him purr in satisfaction.

“What do you say Dodge, should I take him?” You asked and he wagged his tail, rolling around in your lap. You gazed lovingly at Chris, softly touching his bearded face.

“Well, only because Dodger says so.”

+++++

Taglist:

@shooting-star-love @what-is-your-wish @stanmysoul @littlegasps @bluemusickid @sweeterthanthis @scentedsongrebel

#chris evans x reader #dodger #fluff #chris evans #dodger evans

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chainofclovers · 3 years ago

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Ted Lasso 2x1 thoughts

Running out of time to capture my thoughts on 2x1 specifically before 2x2 airs, so here's a mess of things I thought about in response to the season 2 premiere. (Heavily informed by conversations w/my wife and some friends and family both within and without the fandom, discord conversations, things I've read on tumblr, reviews in the press, and, yes, my own little brain when it's alone.)

I really liked it (actually, I loved it)

Because a lot of people--myself included--binged s1 in a single go, I think a lot of people came away from that (beautiful almost perfect) season of TV with a sense that it was just this continuous five-hour explosion of feelings-y goodness with a very clear thesis statement: Make The Audience Happy. But obviously there's a lot of complicated stuff being set up within those five hours of TV, with intentional dividing lines and transitions between the episodes. I know some people watched 2x1 and felt frustrated because it didn't "feel like Ted Lasso" but I didn't feel that way. What I did feel, by contrasting 2x1 with all of s1, is that the atmosphere in s1 wasn't so much an audience-centric feel-good make-em-laugh kind of thing so much as a reflection of the gradual feeling of settling into home as Ted finds his place in Richmond and at AFC Richmond and in letting go of things (marriage) for the first time, and Rebecca, who's majority owner of the damn club but doesn't have a place within it, goes on a parallel community-locating journey. So the intensely warm, comfortable, feelings-y viewing experience is really just a reflection of what it was feeling like for pretty much every character with the exception of Rupert and Bex to carve out a more comfortable, honest, warm place for themselves.

But the challenges of relegation, the specters of the past, the longing any character (any human) has for more, and the mental health issues that come along for the ride meant that 2x1 needed to feel uncomfortable. They create that atmosphere by riddling 2x1 with so many jokes and references that it feels chaotic, overstuffed. The football season isn't going horribly, but it's WEIRD, and everyone is uncomfortable, and Ted doesn't know how to deal with the discomfort within himself so he's relying on the things he knows: references, anecdotes, strung-together wisdom. He clearly plans the Hank-the-dog speech in advance of the press conference, and the tongue-in-cheek "wow, this is so profound" expressions on the journalists' faces are hilarious to me because it's like we're watching them react to a man who's about to lose it and is in the final moments of being able to control the narrative about his team before someone from the outside will have to come in.

I'm obsessed with a tag @ratherembarrassing put on a TL reblog: "This is a show of soliloquies." I loved Ted's manufactured yet thematically necessary speech. I loved that Rebecca basically blacks out at a coffeeshop and tells John all about the messages (harmful or at least profoundly still-in-progress) she's been processing about intimacy and safety. [Side note: it's so perfect that she's still afraid to feel safe. It's like, "If I feel safe, what am I missing about the situation that's going to come back to hurt me?" OOOOF.] I feel like these moments where characters kind of speechify and the audience matters but the audience also does not matter just reflect the overall atmospheric stuff the show does. Like, it's more important to make us feel how it feels than to construct a moment of hyper-realistic dialogue. I get why it can be jarring but I'm into it.

The dog. Welp. A dog died right away. The special effects looked weird. I love dogs, I'm not a monster, but I was also just...not emotionally torn up about Earl at all. It's a catalyst. It's a very quick way to kind of bloop the entire world of Ted Lasso into a skewed and uncomfortable place where these characters absolutely need to reside until they can figure out how to attend to their own mental health and healing with the same focus and compassion they apply to their friendships with other people.

I'm obsessed with how much everything is going to HURT. Like, Ted walked in and Rebecca said she wished he was Keeley and then she didn't start eating the biscuits right away?!?

The biscuits are such an emotional crutch in s1 and SO MUCH of Rebecca's headspace is taken up with destroying something Ted is starting to love, destroying Ted, but also being there for him and feeling seen by him in a truly unique way, so I kind of love the psychic shift here, where all this emotional stuff has happened between them but to move forward they're going to have to learn some new conversational skills. Like girl talk.

The nail polish. I love everyone. I love the nail polish. I love that Ted was late to practice because of it. I love how much he wants other people to need him because it's so clear that he got his feelings hurt like 30 times in 2x1 and doesn't even fully realize it.

I love Dr. Sharon Fieldstone. I love that everyone but Ted very clearly understands the value of having a sports psychologist around. I love that her introduction is not about having to sell the players on the fact that they should talk to someone, but rather about Ted's discomfort over his own leadership abilities and the conflict this could create. It's so good. I'm so excited about it.

Beard and Ted in the pub! All people are different people! Ahhhhhh! Thank God For Beard (TGFB). TGFB is probably going to be my personal motto while watching this season of adorable and emotionally wrenching and ambitious television.

OK, I feel better now that I have this chaotic list out of my brain and onto tumblr. Should that make me feel better? I do not know. I do know that I'll probably try to do this for every episode because watching it week by week is going to drive me insane and I would really like to have some kind of record of the distinct-to-episodes yet cumulative viewing experience before I'm able to take in the full season (and the full series so far) as a whole.

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #meta by me #a lesbian watches ted lasso #ted lasso 2x1

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jlalafics · 4 years ago

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"Almost Paradise"-a birthday story for mrspeetamellark!

Happy birthday @mrspeetamellark! This is one day late but I hope you enjoy this continuation of your lifeguard!Peeta story!

You can find the first part here.

Also, mind the smut at the end.

______

“How do I look?” Katniss stepped into the living room where Annie and Finnick sat on the couch. “Do I look too much like a girl who’s seen nothing but forests and whose pastime is archery?”

She did a little twirl in her sleeveless green jersey dress and cropped jean jacket for the couple.

“You look cute!” Annie stood up, rounding her. “But take the jacket off.”

“And undo the braid,” Finnick added.

Katniss shrugged the jacket off, handing it to Annie before unraveling her braid.

“Why?”

“If you’re cold, he can’t give you his jacket or put an arm around you if you’re wearing one, can he?” Annie pointed out.

“And nothing is sexier than a hair flip and an over-the-shoulder smile,” Finnick told her.

Katniss snorted. “What do you mean?”

The man bent his head, throwing it back before looking over his shoulder to smile at Annie and Katniss.

“See?” Finnick smirked. “Irresistible.”

“Is that how Annie got you?” Katniss asked.

“No, it’s how he got me,” her cousin replied. “His hair was at his shoulders at the time.”

There was a knock on the door.

“He’s here!” Finnick screamed out excitedly.

Katniss laughed, going to the door. “I thought I was going out with Peeta.”

“I’m just really happy for you,” Finnick replied.

“He’s hoping that you’ll stay the night with Peeta so we can shag like rabbits,” Annie said as Katniss opened the door.

“I should at least take you to dinner before you stay over.”

Peeta stepped into the house, his eyes meeting Katniss’. He kissed her cheek.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” Katniss looked over Peeta in his brown leather jacket, fitted white tee, and jeans. “You look great.”

“Yes, very dreamy,” Annie agreed.

Finnick fluttered his lashes. “I’d do you.”

“On that note, we should go,” Katniss told him. “Bye, guys.”

Annie gave her a hug. “Have a shit ton of fun.”

Taking Peeta’s hand, Katniss led him out the door.

“Use protection!” Finnick called out, just as the door closed behind them.

++++++

“My Mom is the local medicine woman while my sister assists her,” Katniss said as they strolled. “I’ve never been very good at all the medicinal stuff which is surprising since I usually go hunting with my Dad or Gale…well, maybe just my Dad now.” She turned to the man, smiling at her in amusement. “I’m talking a lot, aren’t I?”

“No, I like it,” Peeta said as he gazed at her. “You have a lot to say and I want to hear it all.”

“Maybe it’s because I kind of disappear into the background a lot of the time,” she told him. “Being a hunter and all. I mean, everyone who lives in my neighborhood looks the same. Dark hair, olive skin…Mom and Prim are the exception. Both blonde and blue-eyed.”

“Why is that?”

“My Mom grew up in the higher-class part of District 12,” she explained. “And she ran off with my Dad.”

“So, they were Star-Crossed Lovers,” Peeta replied.

“Yup, minus the gang fights and death.” Katniss looked around the line of shops along the wooden-slatted walkway. “Where are we?”

“This is District 4’s commercial area,” he explained. “This is where visitors like yourself might come to eat at a restaurant or buy some local goods. The folks from the Capitol come here during the summer and double our revenue for the year.”

“We don’t have anything like that in 12,” Katniss replied. “Unless you’d be interested in goat’s milk or cheese made by Prim’s goat.” Peeta raised a brow and she chuckled. “Yes, my sister has a goat.”

He reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Would buying goat’s milk score me brownie points with you?”

Katniss closed in the space between their joined hands. “Maybe.”

Peeta stopped, reaching to lift her chin. “Maybe?”

“Probably,” she relented, her chin wobbling in nervousness.

The way Peeta gazed at her was exhilarating and unnerving, all at once. It was as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. If she was being entirely honest, most of her thoughts regarding this strong-jaw, golden-haired man were not entirely clean.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

Katniss swallowed harshly. “Starving.”

Peeta stepped towards her, his hands going to her shoulders—to turn her around.

In front of her was a storefront displaying an array of pastries and cakes, but it wasn’t the food that made her jaw drop slightly.

It was the sign.

“Mellark Bakery?” Katniss turned to him, a smile playing on her lips. “You have a bakery.”

“My family has one,” he told her simply. “I thought that we might explore some career options for you.”

Katniss was confused. “What?”

“You said that you didn’t have your dream job.” Peeta pulled her towards the entrance. “I thought maybe we could see if you cut it in the culinary world.”

“Or I could possibly burn the place down,” she retorted.

“Come on. If anything, it will be something worth remembering,” he told her.

“I can’t believe that you remembered the ramblings of a deranged woman who swam right into an undertow.”

“Kind of hard to forget when you were screaming in my ear.” Peeta put an arm around her, his mouth brushing against her lobe. Her legs almost caved at the motion. “I think it will be fun. Doing something together in the back of the bakery.”

“Fine.” Katniss let out a sigh. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute.”

He kissed the top of her head affectionately.

“I’m lucky because you said yes.”

++++++

After stepping into the bakery, Katniss was introduced to Peeta’s parents, Charlie and Roberta.

“How did you get Peeta’s name?” she asked immediately. “Your names are surprisingly normal.”

The elder Mellarks immediately took to her with easy chuckles.

“I was under some heavy-duty pain relief after he came out,” Roberta answered. “And Charlie here was running on no sleep at that point. One of us must have sputtered out, Peeta.”

“They just wanted to be different,” Peeta told her, arm still slung around her shoulders affectionately. “But they kept in order.”

She turned to him curiously. “Meaning?”

“Nop,” Charlie replied, a grin that Peeta obviously inherited, on his mouth.

“You Mellarks are confusing,” Katniss said with a shake of her head.

“Not Nop, but N-O-P.” Peeta looked to his parents in affectionate exasperation. “As in Noli, Oren, and Peeta. So, as you can see, I got the best name of the bunch.”

“I guess I must be pretty boring with my plant name,” she replied. “At least, Prim got a sweet one, and it fits her perfectly.”

The bell at the top of the front door interrupted their conversation and Peeta quickly led her to the back of the bakery, where she was greeted by stainless steel counters and industrial ovens. There, Peeta told her that they would be making sticky buns for them to eat. He pulled his family’s recipe book from the back office and showed her the recipe.

“You’re the first non-Mellark to see this book in years,” he told her.

“Don’t worry.” Katniss smiled at the man beside her. “I won’t steal your precious recipes.”

They both got to work making the dough and Peeta showed her how to add the ingredients into one of the electric mixers. After, standing behind her, he instructed her on kneading the dough to the right consistency—smooth and just a little sticky.

“There you go,” he said lowly, his warm breath against the nape of her neck. Katniss’ breath quickened at the feeling of him pressed to her back. “Just put a little more pressure into the dough.” He moved her hair to one side, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You’re actually pretty good at this.”

Katniss made another fold, pressing into the dough.

“It’s actually relaxing,” she admitted.

Peeta took a bowl, placing the dough in it so it could rise.

While they waited, Katniss told him more about District 12, about the main street where there was very little commercial area. How her father recently retired from the mines and how one of her friends was the mayor’s daughter.

“You’d like Madge,” she said. “She’s very sweet, all blonde hair and blue eyes.” Katniss peered at him. “Maybe I won’t. I tend to become invisible when Madge is around—”

“I happen to have an affinity for brunettes with smoky eyes,” Peeta told her. “You’re not invisible, Katniss.” His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his chest as he kissed her temple. “I see you.”

“Thank you for telling me that.” Katniss turned to look at him. “I see you, too.”

Peeta’s hands reached to cradle her cheeks and her breath hitched in anticipation. He leaned and Katniss didn’t pull away when he brushed his lips to hers. It was the gentlest of touches, but it spread through her like wildfire.

“More,” she breathed against their kiss.

Peeta shifted, and their lips once more. Her bottom lip was pillowed between his own and he sucked at her tender flesh, drawing a moan out of her chest. Her hands reached, carding through his hair to grip and anchor her as Katniss felt that she might collapse in pleasure at any moment.

“You are fucking delicious,” he whispered along her tongue. “I want to taste every part of you—”

“Well, don’t do it here!” They pulled apart to see Charlie at the doorway leading to the front. “I don’t want to tell my grandkid that he or she was conceived on the counter where their Dad was.”

“Moment’s over.” Peeta helped her off the counter—how did she even get up there? He gave her an apologetic smile. “For what it’s worth, that was one hell of a first kiss.”

She had to agree.

Katniss had wanted a kiss where she saw stars behind her eyes—and she did.

However, it didn’t compare to what she felt as their lips met.

Fire.

++++++

After being discovered by Charlie—or Dad, as he insisted Katniss to call her—the man had sent them away with a basket of bread and pastries, along with some cheese, meat, and wine. They had found a nearby parklet decorated with flowers and made sandwiches.

They sipped on their wine while Peeta told her more about the Mellark Family. Their bakery had been a staple in District 4 since Peeta’s great-grandfather had built it from the ground up. Roberta was a Capitol transfer that had come when she was in her teens in search of adventure. What she had found was love, Charlie sweeping her off her feet and putting a ring on it as soon as he could.

“I think Noli might’ve been the reason for the rush,” Peeta told her with a smirk. “Don’t let them know that I know.”

Peeta’s two older brothers were working in different Districts, Noli in District 2 and Oren in District 7, but visited often.

“Oren’s girlfriend is actually from District 7 and they’re visiting in the next few days. You should meet Johanna. I think you’ll like her.”

When they were finished with their food, they returned the basket to his parents and Peeta came back with keys to a Land Rover that had seen better days. The blue paint was rusting and when Peeta turned on the engine, she could feel the hard rumble directly under her.

They had set off on a tour of District 4 and Peeta had pointed out the Hall of Justice in their town square and the mayor’s home, a block away from it. He showed her where he and his brothers went to school. After graduation, Peeta had been the one who decided to stay in District 4 and would eventually take over Mellark Bakery.

He had a love for baking, finding peace in just creating.

Katniss admired that he had found his place in the world.

“Tell me about this guy you’re supposed to marry.”

She met his eyes as he stoked the bonfire in front of them.

They had settled on the beach after their tour, the tide low enough so they could settle close to the water.

“Gale is…complicated and simple all at the same time.” Her fingers dragged along the cool sand. The moon rose over the water, highlighting the curiosity on Peeta’s handsome, sculpted face as he waited for her to continue. “It would be simple to marry him and start a family. That been the plan—to him at least.”

“And why is he complicated?”

“Because I want more,” Katniss replied. “I’m not ready to settle. Not in District 12 and not with him.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want lukewarm love…a lukewarm life. My family is great, but they know me enough to see that I’m floundering in 12. It was why Prim urged me to just leave after Gale got down on one knee.”

“She’s one smart sixteen-year-old,” Peeta remarked.

Katniss nodded in agreement. “Definitely an old soul.” She stood up, holding out her hand to him. Peeta took it and rose from his seat. “You ever want more?”

“Not until recently,” he told her, his blue eyes darkened in the moonlight.

The heat between them was inescapable. However, neither made a move to part.

Instead, their bodies only pressed closer until Katniss could feel the prickle of her hardening nipples against Peeta’s broad chest.

Her eyes went to his. “What do you want?”

“I thought that much was clear,” he told her roughly.

Their mouths met in a crushing kiss. Her hands grasped at his biceps as he encircled her waist, pressing his pelvis to hers and she pressed up, feeling the cloth of his jeans against her clit.

Peeta growled, his lips moving off to taste and suckle her skin. Katniss purred as he reached the juncture of her neck and bit lightly. She watched as he kissed along the neckline of her dress, his hands grazing the sides of her breasts teasingly before he sunk to his knees.

Panic gripped her and grabbed his wrists. “What are you doing?”

Peeta grinned. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“I’ll never come that way,” she told him simply. “And this has been better than anything I ever felt. I don’t want to ruin it.”

“Give me a chance,” he replied, his hands on her hips to keep her from joining him on the sand. “If you don’t like it, then we’ll stop.”

Slowly, Katniss acquiesced.

Peeta lifted her skirt, carefully tucking it up into the elastic waistline. He stared at her bare skin for a moment and she consciously rested a hand to her stomach.

Thank God, she wore her cute underwear.

“Lovely,” he breathed out.

Peeta kissed along her thighs, letting her get comfortable enough to widen the opening between them. His mouth pressed to the insides and she knew that he could taste her arousal, his tongue swiping quickly along the line of her panties.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he said hoarsely.

His mouth went to her clit, sucking through the lace, and she keened at the sudden twist in her belly.

Her hands moved to her panties and he helped her, guiding them off her before they found their place in his back pocket.

Peeta’s mouth was immediately on her cunt, roughly kissing along her sodden labia and her hands dug into his hair, holding him in place. This was something that she had never felt before, waves of desire pulsing through her core and she tried to catch that feeling with each swipe of his tongue.

“Ride my face,” he commanded, hitching her thigh over his shoulder. “I want to taste all of you.”

Katniss let out a breath at the desperate tone in his words. She pressed her pelvis closer to him, experimentally moving back and forth along his tongue as his hands cupped her bottom.

When her clit hit his nose, she let out a hiss. “Fuck!”

He chuckled against her cunt, before pressing his tongue flat against the nerve before thrusting two fingers inside her.

The euphoria took over and Katniss moved a hand to her chest, pinching a nipple and feeling the sparks of pleasure course to her core. Her other hand remained firm on Peeta’s head as he sucked and fucked her with his tongue and fingers.

Katniss felt herself there at the edge, surprised at how quickly Peeta had gotten her there—but she let herself fall into it.

Like that afternoon, she headed right into a riptide, knowing Peeta would be her rescuer.

“Oh…fuck…” Her hips canted on her own as she crested, pushing her cunt onto his face. “…I’m coming—” Peeta’s fingers quickened as he lapped at her peak. “…yes…Peeta!”

Her body snapped and Katniss arched, crying out into the dark sky as her orgasm crashed over her body and she felt the warm release seep out her conto Peeta’s waiting mouth. He was gentle, lightly tasting her as she came down from her high.

Carefully, they fell back onto the sand, breathing harshly, as they looked up the starry heaven above them.

Katniss reached for Peeta’s hand and he entwined their fingers, squeezing her hand tenderly.

Peeta tugged until she rested her head against his chest, and she sighed contently at the feeling of solidity that being with him brought her.

“I think I found what I was looking for,” she said quietly.

His hand settled in her hair. “And what is that?”

Katniss turned; her chin pressed to his chest so she could meet his azure eyes.

“You.”

Peeta smiled, the warmth of it spreading through her body and causing a flutter in her stomach.

She didn’t know if this was love, but she was willing to stay until she knew what it was.

“Do you want to go…” Peeta’s gaze was careful, his hand moving along her hair as to not break the spell between them. “…to my place?”

Finnick would be getting his wish.

Katniss nodded, a smile playing on her lips.

“Let’s go.”

*I’d like to do another part at some point…

#lifeguard!Peeta #birthday present #everlark fanfiction #everlark #rated m

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caramelcal · 4 years ago

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Songwriting and Fake Dating {4}

Word Counter: 1.4k

a/n: hi! sorry ths is so late but i hope you enjoy :)

disclaimer: I do not condone the use of my work/writing without my permission. The only place this has been posted is on my (rosemoonmist) tumblr account. This has not been posted on any other platform either. If you see any plagiarism of my work please let me know! <3 People work hard on their fics, so don’t steal them ty.

Taglist: @honeyheartzz @diosa75 @katrin-okay @merceret @hoechx @ifilwtmfc @gia-kerks @thesweetestsinner @teti-menchon0604 @rachelle3musicals @morbidreader

Masterlist

It’s much later in the night, the café empty apart from you, humming softly a tune from a song you can’t remember the name of. You’re dancing a little as you give the tables one last wipe down before making your way behind the counter again. It was your turn to lock up for the night, the other waitresses already away home but you actually liked it when it was like this.

You didn’t even have the lights on as you took of your small apron-like thing and hung it up. Reaching for the keys, you stop when you hear the bell ringing, signaling that someone had entered the shop. Could they not read the closed sign?

“Sorry, we’re closed right now-” You say, whirling around and meeting hazel eyes, voice cutting off when you saw who was standing there. Clearing your throat, you shift awkwardly between two feet, “Luke.”

“Hey y/n,” Luke says softly, his hair is messy under his navy colored beanie, but you know you can’t talk, yours probably looks a lot worse. He takes a step towards you before speaking again, his voice still soft, “We need to talk.”

“What- What do we need to talk about,” Your eyes aren’t on him anymore, but instead on the counter in front of you. You don’t even notice that Luke had walked forward until he’s directly on the other side of the counter from you, his hand reaching out to cup under your face, forcing you to look up at him.

You can’t even think of what to say when you stare up into his eyes, the tension in the room only multiplying. When Luke next speaks, his words are quiet, “We need to talk about what we’re going to do when we go back to school tomorrow.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Everyone still thinks we’re dating,” Luke starts to explain, stopping briefly as his tongue wipes over his bottom lip, “We haven’t been together in school for two weeks, y/n.”

“So what? It’s not like either of us actually want to be fake dating anyway,” You break away from his touch, moving away so that he couldn’t reach you whilst you look away, sighing lightly.

The memories of what your little deal have caused flashes over your head, and you can’t help the small frown that comes to your face. Sure, Luke was a nice guy, but everything that happened, the deal just wasn’t worth it. Not worth losing your best friend over.

His eyes are still trained on you, lingering on you for a few moments whilst a small frown appears on his face. His voice is quiet when he speaks, “There are benefits for the both of us.”

“Like what? Losing my best friend?” Luke looks at you with a frown. He feels guilty about it, but the more you look towards him, the more you realize you shouldn't have snapped, you sigh again, “I’m sorry.”

“No it’s alright, you have every reason to be mad. Listen, I have a new idea if we start to fake date again,” Luke says softly, and when your eyes glance up at him with confusion riddle on your face, he continues, “Grab some paper and a pen.”

Still confused, you oblige hesitantly, grabbing the small notebook from the pocket of your already hung up apron, rounding the counter to stand beside Luke, “What for?”

“This time, we’re going to do it right,” Luke says, taking the notebook from you and scribbling something down, showing you it with a grin on his face.

Scrunching your eyes up, you go to read what he has scribbled down, before awkwardly going, “Um...”

“Yeah it’s maybe better if you write,” Luke says sheepishly, pushing the notepad along the counter towards you, the pen sitting on top, “We’re doing rules for this. The fake dating I mean.”

“Rules? Really?”

Luke rolls his eyes, “Okay think of it more like bargains, like things we’ll do for each other as part of the deal.”

“Okay,” You start, nodding your head slightly, trying to come up with an example to know you guys are thinking about the same thing, “So like keeping the lacrosse team off my back?”

“Yeah like that. And you’ll write songs for us, but we’ll have a schedule, and we can’t write outside of that,” Luke says whilst you begin to write things on the small pad of paper, “We could do Tuesday nights and Friday nights.”

“I can’t do Tuesdays,” You trail off, looking back down at the counter with a small frown. Tuesdays were Dirty Candy practice nights, but now that you’re no longer a part of Dirty Candy, your Tuesdays were free. Yet, you were just used to not being free on Tuesdays, especially considering you had been in Dirty Candy since it was first created.

You cleared your throat before continuing, trying to put a smile on your face, “Uh, sorry. I’m free Tuesdays but we’ll have to do it late on Fridays because I’m at work until 7.”

“I’ll pick you up, we can get something to eat, and then we can go back to mine and write songs on Fridays,” Luke suggests, his hands lightly drumming against the counter before he speaks again, this time softer, “Also, I’ll get you Carrie back, as my part of the deal.”

“And how are you going to do that Luke? Carrie has made her feelings pretty clear,” You say skeptically. Especially after today, you were pretty sure that Carrie wanted absolutely nothing to do with you. She had told Kayla and the rest of the Dirty Candy girls about you calling her.

“You should know better than anyone that Carrie isn’t fully straight forward about her feelings to everyone, y/n. Just trust me on this.”

You’re hesitant, but Luke gives you a glance that tells you that you should trust him, so you give in with a sigh, “Fine. But if this fake dating thing is back on, we’re not kissing.”

“Seriously y/n?” Luke gives you a dumbfounded look, “Who’s going to believe I’m your boyfriend if I’m not allowed to do stuff like kissing you?”

“No, everything else is fine, but I want my first to be special.”

“Your first?” Your cheeks go red as you look down, but Luke’s eyes stay trained on you with his mouth almost hanging at his feet, “You’ve seriously never been kissed before? I’ve seen tons of guys with you, I-”

“Yeah, Carrie’s boyfriends, Kayla’s, the other dirty candy members...None of them have ever been mine. ‘Guess guys don’t like me like that, apart from the lacrosse team but it’s not exactly like they like me, they just want sex,” You shrug, boosting yourself up to sit on the counter, one leg crossed over the other as you look at Luke with a small smile.

Luke is dumbfounded. Guys obviously like you, you’re amazing. You’re nice and helpful, and gorgeous, why would guys not like you like that? For you to even think that is insane. Luke doesn’t know what to say, he shakes himself out of his thoughts.

“Fine. No kissing but you need to come to my gigs with me,” Luke bargains, tilting his head slightly to look at you, all you do is nod before you start writing stuff down, notebook leaning on your thigh.

You’re enveloped in a comfortable silence as you hit the pen off of the notebook lightly, looking down at Luke. He has his back against the counter, looking out on the quiet streets that the night has brought.

Your head goes over your ‘contract’ almost, and a question comes to your mind, why is Luke even doing this? Sure, there were a few benefits for him but no kissing, him having to get Carrie back for you, having to keep the lacrosse team off your back, getting you back in Dirty Candy...

“Hey, Luke?” You question, breaking the silence between the two of you as he hums in reply to show you that he’s listening, “Why are you so adamant about this whole fake dating thing anyway? I mean tons of girls would do this with you and it would be for real...”

Your eyes are still trained on Luke as he turns around to face you, hazel eyes gazing at you as he gives you a small smile, “Well...You write good songs, and that’s good for the band.”

It’s all for the band...

#luke julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms x reader #luke patterson #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms luke #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x y/n #luke jatp #jatp #charlie gillespie x reader

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softomi · 4 years ago

Text

now accepting boyfriend applications: intro to business

synopsis: it’s crazy how things can slip the mind, just like how you posted about wanting boyfriend applications but granted, you were drunk. It seemed like Akaashi had the upper hand; until a certain classmate intrudes your mind.

series: now accepting boyfriend applications

previous: literature

next up: biology

series taglist: @kyomihann @chesley-cant-deal @bluearmufs @your-consulting-fangirl @itsmeaudrieee @winunk @aegiseterna @katelyns-stuff @mochipk @3rachachoo @kyuudere @sixthself @merakiulous-k @notsostraightweeb

*bold means I wasn’t able to tag you*

general taglist: @graykageyama @tsumue @thesorebae @micasaessakusa @alouphen @waitforitillwritemywayout @chibichab @trifliz

“I’m almost positive that guy wasn’t your boyfriend.” Kuroo would know, he probably isn’t going to tell you that he’s familiar with Akaashi due to a mutual friend. Instead, he lifts his chin, “ex-boyfriend.” He corrects himself.

You bite the insides of your mouth, “No he was not.”

You’re back to an internal groan, now you were stuck with the next boyfriend candidate and it’s starting to feel like you’re speed dating.

“Business is all about—” It’s ten minutes into class and your professor enjoys beginning class with an inspirational quote which then smoothly leads into lecture. Only, today, it seems as though he’s taking forever to get to the point of the quote.

Like always, Kuroo remains fixated on the lecture. He was the type to never take notes, though his notebook was out, and his pen is twirling in his hand, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him write anything down. Yet he was somehow managing a ninety-eight percent in the class, what an intelligent prick.

“You good?” He’s mouthing to you and you’ve realized that you had been staring.

You nod in an attempt that he doesn’t catch how embarrassed you actually were to have been caught looking at him. Kuroo turns back to the lecture and now you’re staring down at your phone that is reaching sixty percent. You shamelessly pull up the pdf he had sent you.

“Are you reading my letter of intent?”

You lock your phone so fast; it almost falls on the floor. You’re only lucky that it falls off the desk and Kuroo’s reflexes quickly catch the cell. The action makes both of your desks squeak against the floor and everyone’s heads turn. Both you and Kuroo mutter apologies as he hands you back your phone.

“Cat got your tongue?” He’s stupidly smirking, and you’re tempted to kick him, “Did you read it?”

“No.” You say in a hushed voice, turning your eyes to the board trying to pay attention for once.

He, also, turns to look at the board. Chin resting on his palm, “What a shame.”

For the rest of the class period, he remains silent. He’s fixated on the professor’s lecture, but your mind is racing. Your leg is bouncing rapidly, fingers tapping against the desk, you’re itching to touch your phone but scared it’ll make Kuroo pull another move to talk to you.

The lecture drags, you want to go back to sleep, and you’re suddenly realizing that you’ve skipped breakfast and lunch. Your stomach growls, to you it sounds like a dinosaur’s roar but no one else in the room seems to have heard it. Once more it growls, making you lean your head on the desk with a heavy sigh. You were starving, suddenly aware that you’ve left your wallet at home, and you’ve neglected to add your card to your cell phone so now you’re contemplating skipping your biology lab or starving for the rest of the day.

Your head is laid on its side, giving you perfect view of Kuroo’s side profile. His bed hair looks soft and you’ve got to admit that his jawline is exquisite. He smirks, eyes looking at you from the side. You’d feel embarrassed but you’re hungrier even to the point of being angry.

The lecture drags on and at this point you think you might die from the way your stomach is crying.

“Are you hungry?” Kuroo asks after the fifth time your stomach as growled.

“Is it that obvious?”

Kuroo laughs lowly, “You sound like a car that won’t start.”

You take full offence, “Shut up.”

He was always like this, playful and poking jabs at you. He loved to banter with you and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t like it. Talking with him was like talking to a childhood friend, it’s easy going and free spirited. Even when the two of you were studying for the first business exam, tucked in a hidden space on the second floor of the library; the studying was abandoned when he kept showing you funny scenes from an anime, resulting in you watching the anime on his tiny cell phone screen despite the both of you clearly having your laptops out.

Kuroo leans close to you, “Want to get out of here?”

“Right now?” You whisper, “We still have forty-five minutes left.”

Kuroo is shutting his notebook, “I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Bet.”

You’re trying to hide your laughter as you and Kuroo slowly pack up to leave. Now the only thing was to try and leave without making the biggest scene. You’ve successfully stood, only drawing small attention as you’re headed for the door. Kuroo seems to struggle, as he picks up his bag, it knocks against the empty desk next to him, drawing full attention to himself and you. It’s deadly silent, you’re frozen at the door and Kuroo is rushing to you.

“Go!” Kuroo pushes you out of the class.

“That was so embarrassing!” The laughter coming from you makes you run out of breath, “How are we supposed to go back to class on Tuesday?”

“Why were you just standing at the door!” Kuroo is yelling yet laughing at the same time.

You slap his arm, “You’re the one who decided to announce that we were leaving in the middle of the lecture. God, the professor probably hates us now.”

You’ve reached the small café in the business department, it doesn’t have a lot of options, mostly cold sandwiches and packaged snacks. The café drinks are way too expensive and even the water bottle is pricey; way to go education.

“Get whatever you like, I’m paying.” His words are smooth and for a second you believe him.

His body turns away from you, pretending as though he’s looking at the drink menu, you can clearly see that he’s checking his wallet. His shoulders visibly deflate and while you fake trying to pick something from the prepackaged area, you watch as he checks his account balance on his cell phone. His head seems to fall back irritatingly. It’s cute, he was trying so hard, but the world was being too cruel on him.

“Kuroo?” You call him. He’s slowly turning, hoping that he doesn’t have to take back his words. You wave him over to show the cheapest sandwich possible, “Want to split it with me?”

“You could get something better?” Kuroo tries looking at the other options, “What about a coffee?”

He was too sweet. You’re smiling, “Nah. I drank a lot last night so I don’t think coffee will sit well in my stomach and I’ve been meaning to go on a diet so if you take half my sandwich, it’ll be like I’m starting early.”

He’s still adamant on wanting to buy you something more expensive, “You could literally get this sub, it’s more filling and what do you mean diet, you’re literally perfect right now.”

A heavy blush appears on your cheeks, you slap his shoulder, pushing him by his back, “Just share a sandwich with me idiot.”

“But the sub.”

You’re kicking him in the ass, “Mention the sub one more time Kuroo, I swear to god I’ll leave you high and dry right now.”

You settle on seats by the window, you’re opening the packaged sandwich and in an attempt to stay cheap, Kuroo secretly stole cups while you distracted the cashier and he was grabbing water from the fountain.

“So.” Kuroo starts, “You haven’t read my application yet?”

You almost choke on your dry sandwich, “Must we talk about that now.”

Kuroo raises a finger, “You know what, I’ll just read it to you now.”

He was dead serious, pulling out his phone to bring up his pdf form. He was the absolute worst, yet it’s absolutely hilarious the way he fixes his clothing as if preparing for an interview.

“I’ll start with my letter of intent.”

You’re already giggling, trying to hide behind your sandwich.

“I am writing this to inform you of my interest for the position of Boyfriend. I have been highly interested in this position ever since you asked me for a pencil and then returned it back to me a week later, not realizing that you had given me a different pencil. I knew I liked you because of how cute you looked apologizing for not returning the pencil earlier.”

You never thought you could smile so wide before until this moment. Kuroo mimics your smile, looking back down to his phone.

“I don’t have a lot to offer but I can say with confidence that I can beat you at Mario Kart. I’ve been practicing and honing my skills for this moment; I heard that boyfriends need to be good at Mario Kart and if I am accepted for this position, please don’t fall for my best friend because he is better than me at Mario Kart.”

You snort, laughter emitting from your lips. You were on the verge of tears at how funny this application was.

“Lastly, we have similar taste in anime so obviously the 2d world also ships us.”

You hum at the last sentence, “Obviously.” You roll your eyes.

He sets his cell phone down, he’s finished his sandwich by now, practically inhaled it and he watches you eat your last bite. It’s a comfortable silence, really, maybe you were so caught up in the friendship that you had never gotten to think about him in a relationship sense.

“If you think about it.” He’s staring, “This is basically our first date.”

You choke on your water, coughing loudly and he finds your reaction funny. He’s patting your back and you feel so bad that you’re basically spitting on him.

“Kuroo.” You begin.

“Ah.” He knows where this is going. He waves a hand around, “You don’t have to give me an answer. Just.” He pauses, “Just consider me in the future.”

“Is that y/n I see?”

Your expression falters the moment you hear the voice of your biology lab partner, “Atsumu? What are you doing here? Did you get lost?”

Atsumu chuckles, a hand over his heart at your jab, “So hurtful. My brother’s taking some business classes, I had to drop something off for him.” Atsumu makes eye contact with Kuroo, “Hope I’m not interrupting something.”

That was a lie, you can tell. His cheeky grin says that he was absolutely hoping that he was interrupting something. Kuroo seems to not mind, at least from what you can tell. But in his mind, it’s the same as when he had seen Akaashi; a competitor. Especially when you’re trying to shrug Atsumu’s arm off your shoulder, Atsumu pinched your cheek causing a tick to grow on your forehead.

“Kuroo Tetsuro.” He puts a hand out.

Atsumu smirks, gripping the male’s hand, “Miya Atsumu.”

There’s a strong way that they grip each other, their faces are smiling, but their grip is testing the other.

“Well.” Atsumu has a hand on the back of your seat, “We have biology in about fifteen minutes, we should probably head over there.” Atsumu grins to Kuroo, “We’re partners, I was hoping you could show me again how to use the microliter pipettes.”

“Again?” You eye him.

Atsumu has his hands in the air defensively, “It’s just so confusing. The lab manual doesn’t describe it well.” You miss the way he smirks from behind you, “And besides, I learn better with hands on education.”

Kuroo returns the smirk, “Your hand must hurt having to grow up teaching yourself.”

The sharp inhale of laughter you take when you’re drinking causes the water to come out your nose. You’re laughing, coughing, and your nose is burning. Kuroo is handing you napkins and Atsumu’s jaw clenches.

“I’m sorry.” You put a hand on Atsumu’s shoulder, “but that was really funny.” You pat his cheek when he pouts, “Let’s go, I’ll show you how to use the pipette before lab starts.” You turn to Kuroo, “I’ll see you later.”

Kuroo gives you a smile, “I’ll message you.”

Atsumu frowns, even as he walks away with you, he looks over his shoulder, chin lifted, attempting to display dominance even until the last moment.

#now accepting boyfriend applications #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #hq x reader #kuroo scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #hq scenarios

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rainboq · 4 years ago

Note

Thank you for the prompt! Here's one in return. #3 (kiss on the cheek) pricefield

You asked for a kiss on the cheek, you get an entire date and Chloe being a massive disaster. Enjoy! Apologies in advanced for my nonexistent Spanish skills. I’m going insane. It’s just Max, why the hell am I going insane? Chloe sighs as she sits in her truck, one hand on the wheel while the other hovers over the send button on her phone. Fucking Rachel and her big ideas. Just ask her out Chloe, it’ll be fine Chloe, you’ve known her since you were a little kid Chloe.

A little traitorous part of her wished that Max had just said no so she could get the rejection over and done with. Instead, her dorky little face with it’s stupidly cute dimpled smile and earnest eyes had light up like Chloe had told her that there was going to be new episodes of Hawt Dawg Man or something. And not, you know, a date with her dumb punk ass.

Just hit the damn button Chloe so you can blow this already and tell Rachel you told her so. There’s no way someone as smart and talented as Max wants anything to do with me. She’s just doing this for old time’s sake.

Her finger taps the button and she locks the screen so she can’t stare at it and ratchet her anxiety up higher.

Ha. As if she has any control over her anxiety right now.

Her phone buzzes with Max’s reply and she takes a few deep breaths to try and steady her nerves. Her usual go to right now would be smoking, but she forgot her damn pack at home like a dumbass in her flurry of getting ready. At least I didn’t fuck up Rachel’s makeup job.

Is Max even going to like me with this much makeup on? She knew me before I ever started wearing any.

She does an impromptu drum solo on her steering wheel to try and get some of her nervous energy out, to mixed success when her eyes spot movement in the lobby of Max’s building. She turns in her seat, gets a look at her and promptly forgets to breathe. Chloe had said to dress up a bit, and Max had taken the liberty of wearing a flowing black dress with some matching leggings. It’s not nearly as showy as the things Rachel wears to parties and events, but there’s something about the way her freckled shoulders look under the straps that makes her heart squeeze. Those damn freckles, why do they have to be so cute?! Dammit, breathe, don’t be a total dweeb in front of Max because she grew up and got hot.

Fuck she is hot though.

I’m so boned.

Max spots her truck as she pushes out through the inner door and a great big dorky smile spreads across her face as she waves enthusiastically. Chloe waves back and scoots across the bench seat to throw the passenger door open. A moment later Max is climbing in, all winning and too god damn adorable smiles. “Hey Chloe!”

“Uh, hey Max! You look… hella great.”

Max’s cheeks go a bit red as she hunches her shoulders forwards, one hand rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t know about that, but you look amazing.”

There’s no part of Chloe’s stolen blazer and worn black jeans that qualify as amazing to her, but if Max likes it she’s not about to complain. “Thanks,” Chloe tries to say as smoothly as she can muster despite the slight wobble in her tone, “You down for some food?”

“I’m hella starving.” Max replies with a cheeky grin as she shuts her door. “I’m so down for this ‘best taco truck in town’.”

Rolling up to a dumpy taco truck in her old brick with someone as gorgeous as Max suddenly has Chloe feeling like Max really deserves a better first and probably only date, but plans are plans. “Then let your noble steed be off, fair maiden!”

Max breaks out in gigglesnorts as Chloe pulls out of the parking lot. “You did not just use one of William’s lines on me!”

“I so hella did Caulfield, what’re you gonna do about it?” Chloe adds a wink, hoping it’ll cover up how obviously sweaty as hell her palms are right now.

“Oh, I’ve got something in mind.” Max says in a low tone that makes Chloe have to fight to not choke on her own spit.

Oh god, is Max actually flirting with me? I’m so not fucking ready for this. “You down to thrash a bit hippie?”

“As long as your bony elbows don’t hit me!” Max replies with a laugh and Chloe punches the radio on.

The scratchy punk from the local station starts blaring and Chloe internally breathes a sigh of relief at not having to try and deal with Max’s flirting for a moment. Oh god, I can hear Rachel laughing her ass off at me right now.

Max for her part grooves along, and Chloe has to focus to avoid going off the road because of it. God she still dances like a total dork! Fuck, it should be illegal to be this cute or something.

Thankfully they make it to the taco truck without Chloe running into anything, despite her distracted driving, and she pulls them up to the sidewalk. I just hope she likes it or this is going to be a hella lame date.

“Hungry Max?” Chloe asks as she throws her door open after shutting off the radio.

“I’m so hungry, you have no idea.” Max replies as she does the same before sheepishly admitting, “I also kinda skipped lunch.”

Chloe jumps out of her truck and jogs around the front of it as Max clambers out. “Jesus Christ Caulfield, no wonder you ended up so short.”

“What! Hey! Not all of us get to be so freakishly tall.” Max groans and sticks out her tongue.

“Yup, it’s just my burden to bear. Now what do you wanna eat?”

“I mean, you know what’s good here.” Max shrugs as she walks alongside Chloe towards the food truck. “Order for me?”

“Spicy or nah?”

“No way, never spicy.”

Chloe can’t help but laugh at the way Max shakes her head and waves her hands in the air. Yup, still a total dork. “Can do Maximo. Just wait here.”

Chloe skips ahead a few steps and shouts out, “¡Hola Alejandro!”

There’s a clattering sound inside the truck and a middle-aged man’s face appears, “¡Aha! ¡Flaca! ¿Como estas?”

“Muy bien, gracias. ¿Y tú?”

“Bein.” He says with a nod and a big smile.

“Bien, quatro numero doce con polo por favor.” Chloe says, before turning to grin at Max who looks a little stunned.

Alejandro sticks his head out to see what she’s looking at before pulling back in and grinning broadly. “¿Tu amor?”

Chloe shrugs, unable to keep the smile off of her face as she rubs the back of her head. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I forgot how to say that in Spanish. Way to go dumbass.

Alejandro, to his credit, doesn’t need it spelled out for him as he pokes his head back out and calls out to Max, “¡Hola bonita!”

Max freezes up for a moment before doing a little wave back. “H-hola.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” Alejandro grins at her, before retreating back into the food truck to start working on the order.

Chloe pulls out her wallet from her blazer’s pocket and takes out approximately the right amount of money plus tip and drops it on the counter before jogging back to Max with a big idiot grin on her face. “And that’s the food!”

“I guess I should probably learn some Spanish if I’m going to be living large in LA, huh?” Max asks sheepishly, doing that thing she used to do when they were kids where she’d hold her arm.

“Prolly a good idea,” Chloe says as she moves to stand next to Max. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

“Maybe I should have brought a sweater, I always forget how cold it gets here when the sun goes down.”

“Here, stand next to me, the food should warm you up.” Chloe holds out her arm and Max doesn’t hesitate to tuck into her side.

A sort of silence settles in as Max hums softly to herself and chews on her lip while Chloe watches the window for the food. The pressure of Max against her feels good, great even, but it all feels so surreal. “I can’t believe we’re actually on a date.”

“Oh no?” Max giggles softly as she snakes an arm around Chloe’s waist, “What’s so unbelievable about it?”

“How about the part where you said yes?”

“When I told my parents, my dad announced that Joyce and mom owe him fifty bucks.”

“Wait, what?” Chloe somehow manages to not stammer.

“They all had a bet, our dads bet that we’d date some day.”

Chloe turns her eyes heavenwards, where the few stars visible in LA are starting to poke out as the sun sets. I guess you’re smiling on my dumb ass from up there, huh dad?

“¡Loca!” Alejandro shouts from the truck as he puts their food out.

“That’s us.” Chloe says before reluctantly pulling away from Max, “we’ll eat in the back of my truck, meet me there?”

“Sure thing.”

Chloe trots over, grabs the two trays of food. Damn, dude threw in tortilla chips gratis, I fucking owe him a bigass tip next time I come.

Max waits for her, standing next to the now open tailgate. “After you, mademoiselle.”

“You know French?” Chloe asks with a cocked eyebrow as she slides the trays into the bed before climbing up.

“I picked up a couple things from an ex.” Max shrugs as Chloe turns, offers her a hand and hauls her up into the bed.

They end up sitting together at the far end, their backs resting against the cab as Chloe divides the food between them. “Eat up, short stuff.”

“Oh my god, stop making fun of my height you beanstalk!” Max laughs as she elbows Chloe.

Chloe just cackles as she pulls out her first taco and takes her first bite. Come on Chloe, it’s Max, but it’s still a date so don’t eat like a total fucking slob.

She waits until she’s actually finished her first mouthful and swallowed before turning to Max, “How is it?”

“Oh my god I think I’m in love,” Max mutters as she finishes her first mouthful, “Legit the best taco I’ve ever had.”

“Did I tell you or did I tell you?” Chloe grins in triumph before taking another bite of her taco.

They don’t talk much as they consume their tacos, they’re too tasty. Chloe finishes first and has to resist the urge to shout her victory like they did when they were kids having stupid eating contests. Instead, she starts popping tortilla chips into her mouth and just kind of watching Max while she waits.

Damn, I’ve seen her a bunch since she moved here and I still can’t get over how damn cute she got. Like even her ‘ugly duckling’ pics from high school look great. I can’t believe I missed out on her braces years though, damn, that would have been hilarious to be around for. That or I would have gotten in a lot of fights for jackasses making fun of her, which wouldn’t have been much of a change honestly…

Max finishes her tacos and beams up at Chloe, “That was delicious! Thank you so much Chloe!”

“Hey, you deserve it, also hang on, you got some sour cream on your nose.” Chloe grabs a napkin and wipes it off, prompting a giggle from Max.

“You’re adorable.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Max laughs and steals a chip from Chloe’s basket before grinning at her as she eats it.

“What, hey! Those are my chips! You’ve got your own!”

“Yeah but yours are tastier!”

Oh my god, this old game. “What, you want me to feed them to you?”

Chloe’s heart skips a beat as Max’s cheeks flush red. “I-I mean, I wouldn’t mind…”

“Only if you feed me yours.” Chloe grins as she feels her own cheeks heating up.

“It's a deal then.”

Chloe holds up one of her chips to Max’s face, who promptly devours it before holding up one of her chips for Chloe, who returns the gesture. Before long they’re both grinning at each other like sappy idiots and swapping chips until their baskets run empty. Max makes a little disappointed noise as they run out and Chloe gathers up their baskets.

“I’ll run these back and we’ll hit the road?”

“Sure thing.” Max says, before stifling a yawn. “Man, I didn’t realize how late it’s getting already.”

“Nah, you’re just getting old, the night’s still young.”

Max jabs a finger into Chloe’s side before laughing, “You ass, don’t you know it’s rude to joke about a lady’s age?”

“I’m older than you!”

“I said a lady.” Max retorts with a smirk as they both get to their feet and hop out of the bed.

“You got me there Maximus Wrecked.”

Damn, I think this is actually going pretty well! She thinks to herself as she jogs back to the food stand and drops the baskets off on the outside counter. From inside Alejandro flashes her a double thumbs up and Chloe grins back at him before turning around to head back to her truck.

Max is already in the cab, holding herself and shivering a bit as Chloe gets in. “Definitely should have brought a sweater.”

Thinking fast, Chloe pulls off her blazer and holds it out to Max. “Here, until the heater decides to start working.”

“Thank you so much,” Max says as she puts the blazer on in a hurry, “This has been great.”

“Hey, you’re great so…”

There’s a giggle from Max before she stifles another yawn. “Dork. We should probably head back though. I had a crazy long day.”

Chloe’s heart sinks and her mind immediately starts racing for ways she fucked this up as she starts her truck up. “Oh, okay.”

“I had fun Chloe, seriously.” Max says, reaching out across the bench and laying her hand on Chloe’s forearm as she shifts the truck into gear. “We’ll have to do this again.”

Oh, okay, so I didn’t completely fuck it up. “Second date, huh?”

“Definitely,” Max smiles warmly as they pull out into the street, “Mind if I put some of my tunes on?”

“Sure, knock yourself out.”

Soft indie rock fills the cabin as Chloe drives back to Max’s place. Despite the promise of a second date, she really, really, really doesn’t want this to end. She’d hoped to go walking down the beach or something with max, maybe hit up a bar and get a little crazy.

Can’t you just be happy dumbass? You got the second date, just… take it easy. You know better than to rush Max of all fucking people.

The drive back to Max’s apartment is way too short, or maybe she’s so wrapped up in her thoughts that the usual nightmare of LA traffic barely registers. Either way, she’s sitting in front of Max’s building and wishing she was anywhere else in town with Max.

“So, uh…”

“Thank you, I had a wonderful evening,” Max says softly as she scoots across the bench seat and presses a gentle kiss into Chloe’s cheek, one hand cupping her chin.

It takes Chloe a second to remember what words are, much less how to put them together into sentences, but she does manage, eventually as she turns to look at Max. “You’re, uh, hella welcome.”

Something mischievous that ties Chloe’s guts in a knot sparkles in those brilliant blue eyes of Max as she smiles wide, “Do you hella want to come up to my apartment for some coffee?”

#life is strange #chloe price #max caulfield #pricefield #lis #prompt fic #kiss prompt #chloe can you stop being a disaster for FIVE MINUTES

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hollyhomburg · 5 years ago

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Reasons Wretched and Divine (Pt.5)

Genre: hybrid au, polyamory au, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Pregnancy

Parings: Snake hybrid! Yoongi x Dog hybrid! Jimin x Dog hybrid! Namjoon x Pregnant! Reader, Platonic Vmin, allusions to 2seok,

Summary: You live on an isolated but sprawling farm with your abusive husband, but things start to change for the better when your husband adopts a retired police dog hybrid named Namjoon.

Tags: hurt/comfort, panic attacks, past abuse, food-related anxiety, Post-traumatic stress disorder, low self-worth, bonding over trauma, Jimin has self-esteem issues, internalized victim-blaming, mute characters, scent-marking, brief gore, but don't be fooled- this is equal parts angst and fluff

W/c: 13k

Song Rec: Talos - to each his own

SERIES MASTERLIST (5/10 parts complete)

A brief interlude on hybrids pack behaviors, romantic attachment between hybrids, hybrid polyamory:

Though pack forming behavior is the strongest in canine type hybrids- pack behavior (also known as grouping behavior) is seen in every species of hybrid. It doesn’t seem that species has much of an influence on which hybrids will choose to form a pack either- as interspecies groups are incredibly common accounting for around 50% of all hybrid packs.

Though polyamorous behavior might seem strange to human owners; to hybrids, it’s a natural extension of the pack dynamic. It’s what keeps pack bonds strong and reinforces existing dominance structures within the group. That doesn’t mean that love between hybrids within a pack is any different than the love that hybrids might have with their owners or love between humans.

Packs that are decided in juvenile periods of development more mobile and eventually break apart as hybrids age, and then re-solidify in adulthood. In many cases, hybrids without packs tend to be better adoptees as removal of one or more hybrids from a pack can result in many of the same markers associated with removing an imprinted hybrid from it’s imprintee. for that reason, the modal age from 16-22 is the best age to adopt hybrids.

Though one might assume that because of imprinting- that humans would exempt from being apart of hybrid social structure; this is untrue. humans usually seem to be on the more alpha side of the dominance structure, however evidence of this is anecdotal at best and will further statistical significant results in order to be proven.

When packs are settling and a new member is being admitted, this can often result in a period of turmoil in the group dynamic where stereotypically alpha members may act more submissive, or vise versa, where the new pack member is being admitted into the social structure and dominance is questioned.

- Yoongi tilts his head at your words staring Jimin down, before he juts his chin out at him, glancing back at you. “Oh I forgot! you probably haven’t been introduced. Yoongi this is Jimin, Jimin this is Yoongi. If you haven’t guessed Yoongi is a snake hybrid- one of the very few of his kind.”

- Jimin tries to recoup some of his politeness and struggles to smile at the hybrid; Jimin holds his hand out for Yoongi to shake, “it’s nice to meet you.” Yoongi stares at Jimin’s hand for a moment and makes no move to take it. It hangs there for a palpably awkward moment before you grip Jimin’s hand and pull it down to hang in between the two of you. Giving it a reassuring squeeze, not letting go of it.

- Jimin feels flustered as Yoongi lifts the bag of gardening equipment that Jimin had missed by his side and gestures towards a field. You must have some sort of established language because you answer his question. “Yes, we will be doing the veggie garden today Yoon,” Yoongi makes a huffing noise in agreement, and heads down the path. You tug Jimin after him.

- Jimin is perplexed at the lingering silence, even as they reach the far vegetable garden (and Jimin realizes you haven’t let go of his hand with a flush and makes to detangle it or risk feeling like a creep). You’re not trying to feed the whole of the farm with the produce, but that’s certainly an eventual goal of yours.

- It’s large, probably 30 by 50 feet at the very least. You have rows of tomatoes, potatos, carrots, and a half plot of butternut squash and tiny watermelons nothing more that flowers. You start to instruct Jimin on how to tie up The tomato’s that have started to sag with the rain and their continuing growth away from their circular cages. Instructing Jimin how to do the same with the green twine.

- “Gardening is easy,” you tell Jimin, “You have to have some patience, nothing grows overnight.”

- The smell of the wet earth seems to lul the three of you into a hazy silence, He purses his lips, brain running full of information before you turn to him, “got any questions?”

- he has a lot, so many, they spill out. “How many different types of plants do you try to grow? Which one is your favorite? Do you grow any flowers or do you only have your garden for those? What about like seasonings and stuff? those are plants right?”

- Jimin asks a lot of questions, but you seem happy to answer them. Especially once you start harvesting the tomatoes. “You mean you’ve never had one fresh?” Jimin shakes his head “no, most of the food I ate was like, chips and other dried stuff- if he ever bothered to feed me at all” Behind you Yoongi snips through some twine angrily, the older hybrid huffs, shaking his head at that, but still dosent say anything.

- It’s the most communicative that he’s been the whole day, but his displeasure at that is clear. Yours too, Jimin hadn’t even realized he’d said something concerning until he hears your dismayed noise and looks up from what he’s doing to see your jaw tight, that familiar anger in your eyes.

- Before he starts to feel like he’s done something wrong, messed up another job just like he’d done with all the others, you smooth away his worry. “Here, you can try one if you want” you hand him a half dozen tomatoes that are so dark they’re almost purple, then add a few more for good measure until they’re almost spilling out of Jimin’s hands. They’re still warm from the sun Jimin can tell, you give him an encouraging nod “go on- they’re sweet I promise” he slowly lifts one to his lips and bites down.

- The tangy fruitfulness explodes on his tongue- He actually yips, his floppy ears lifting up in his sun hat and his tail wagging so quickly you think he might just take off. By the time he’s done with the first, he’s already reaching for the second, and then looking at the other unripened ones around them hungrily.

- You and Yoongi laugh, though for Yoongi it’s only the twitch of his shoulders and a strange hissing sound as he opens his mouth, gums on display as well as his slightly elongated incisors (and they look sharp, Jimin feels ghoosebumps erupt on his arms). Jimin shyly hides his blush under the brim of his sunhat. “They’re so good! I didn’t think they’d be so tasty- it doesn’t taste anything like ketchup at all!”

- You wince when you think that he’s never had anything other than ketchup to compare what a real tomato tastes like. You and Jimin lapse into a comfortable companionable silence and you don’t say anything when Jimin sneaks a cherry tomato here and there. Though you do hide your smile when he makes a sound of disgust when he decides to try a green one after he’s eaten all of the ripe ones in his area. You catch his cheeks puffed up more than once when you turn to ask him to do something, and your heart melts a little at his chubby cheeks.

- When Yoongi leaves soon after to grab some fresh seedlings for the herb garden you’re quick to explain to Jimin about Yoongi. You want to make sure Jimin is comfortable, but part of the reason why you’d asked him to help in the gardens in the first place is because of how genuinely friendly Jimin is, and how closed off Yoongi is from the rest of the hybrids at the farm.

- Yoongi is the only other hybrid besides Namjoon that stays in the main house with you. You explain to Jimin that he has issues regulating his internal body temperature and need a heater and several heated blankets even in the summer. “Some of the others see this as preferential treatment- when really it’s just what he needs, and it doesn’t help that he doesn’t talk to any of them.”

- “Does he talk at all?” Jimin asks, just as his ears start to pick up on returning footsteps of Yoongi back over the field. “Not that I’ve heard” your whisper hushes when Yoongi comes close with the 12 packs of herbs, gestures to Jimin to follow him.

- Jimin’s heard more than one of the teenage hybrids bemoaning the lumps in their mattresses and their envious rants of how comfortable the beds in the big house are. (Apparently, there’s a closed-off second apartment suite in the side part of the house where the hybrids are allowed to spend their heats when they have them, though you’re working on fixing up what once a stable house to make a more private place for that)

- Jimin thinks that the other hybrid obviously hasn’t spent enough of his life sleeping on the floor because Jimin’s bottom bunk below Taehyung’s is more than comfortable enough. But he keeps that particular opinion to himself.

- He’s also sensed how conversation comes to a halt whenever the snake hybrid comes near for the lunch line or to get a tool from the shed or get Namjoon for something (Namjoon always ends up supervising the more technical chores, having a knack for mechanics and putting things together, like the soaker hose system that will enable some of the vegetables to get more consistent watering as the summer tugs on). Jimin dosent know how he didn’t notice the hybrid before now, but he must have been there the first few days, Jimin was probably just too overwhelmed.

- Even Taehyung seems to quiet down in the Yoongi’s presence, whenever he comes to visit Jimin on his break in the gardens or brings them watermelon from the big house for a snack (though when Yoongi hungrily scarfs down a few pieces Jimin does see a small smile play at the edge of Taehyung’s mouth)

- Jimin never catches any sort of aggressive behavior or meanness from Yoongi beyond a roll of his eyes at those who quiet when he walks by, turning to Jimin so that he can see.

- Jimin decides after the second day that he dosent mind yoongi at all. his presence is comforting even next to Jimin in the dirt, help you dig holes for sprouts and seeds. Jimin holding the latter when Yoongi goes up to check on one of the peach trees (you have a full orchard tucked back into the side of the property- accessible only by walking through the woods and Jimin can’t wait for summer when the fruit is ready if fresh peaches taste anything like the canned kind that Jimin is used to- he thinks he’ll like them).

- But Jimin does see Yoongi’s shoulders tense and his hands tighten a little at times, especially when he sees the other hybrids engaging in leisurely time. Jimin sees Yoongi’s yearning look at the dog hybrids throwing a Frisbee in the empty field between the barn and the main house when they call for Jimin to join, or the cat hybrids grooming each other in the shade all cuddled up or the pair of tiger hybrids stretched out nuzzling into the grasses and flowers.

- Jimin figures the hybrid must be lonely, and he can’t blame him, being surrounded by a community like this and somehow set apart from it doesn’t sound nice at all. Sometimes Jimin wants to reach out and tug a stick out of the elders hair- but even you seem to be careful not to be physically affectionate with the snake hybrid, and Jimin has seen you scratch the ears or hug just about every hybrid that lives at the farm.

- Jimin doesn’t realize Yoongi’s caginess might be for a deeper reason until Jimin accidentally touches him.

- It’s a hot day and you’ve just gone inside to get all three of you some sweet tea from the pitcher, and He swears he was just asking for a shovel. Jimin had accidentally touched his arm. His fingers ghosting over the line of dark scales gently. And before jimin had realized his misstep- Yoongi had started shaking so violently.

- His hands clenched and his shoulders quivering- shivering. Looking strange in the heat of midday and the too-bright slant of the noon sun. Jimin has seen Yoongi shiver in the slightest breeze before, but this, this is so much more than that. And it’s hot, but Yoongi doesn’t look like he’s sweating at all which almost seems more dangerous.

- “Hyung? Are you okay? Hyung?” he gets nothing in response- not a small shake of his head or eye contact, just Yoongi’s unfocused gaze, little huffs of breath coming out from his clenched teeth.

- Jimin didn’t think- just ran to get Namjoon, working in the field closest to them, almost falling after he heaves himself over the fence. Namjoon is already running to meet him when he’d heard the younger shouting his name. Looking panicked- Jimin can barely get the words out, “it’s Yoongi he’s- I think he’s having a panic attack or going into shock or-”

- “Take me to him Jimin,” Namjoon says dropping his shovel and easily keeping pace with Jimin as they dash back to the vegetable garden. Namjoon steadying Jimin with a hand fisted in the back of his shirt when his foot hits a divot in the ground and he almost trips.

- They find Yoongi in the same spot, still quivering like a willow in a thunderstorm. At the sound of his name coming from Namjoon’s lips, Yoongi sharply looks up, his eyes focusing after a moment before they go hazy again and he starts to cry in Ernest.

- Namjoon had quietly led Yoongi back inside the house, you set the pitcher on the table hard enough that the dark tea spills over the side when you see Yoongi and namjoon in the doorway, the elder hybrid sagging when he sees you, his knees weak. You say his name, and Yoongi’s eyes focus again, You don’t touch Yoongi. You’re very clear and careful with your intent grabbing onto the edge of his sleeve before you tug him, speaking in a low voice and guiding him up to the second floor and back to his room- probably the direction of the shower to cool off.

- Namjoon puts a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, smoothing it over the back of his neck. “Jimin- hey pup- it’s fine” Jimin looks up at Namjoon, panicked and imploring, tears in his own eyes and adrenaline in his system for the first time in weeks. Fuck- he’d forgotten how terrible it felt to be afraid “I didn’t mean to trigger him I swear-“

- “Jimin- it’s okay, Yoongi will be fine he just probably needs to sleep and to cool down a little, it probably wasn’t even your fault- we should have known this would happen on such a hot day.”

- Namjoon’s voice is honeyed and soft, expression torn as he looks down at Jimin from the upper step. “This just happens to him Jimin, it’s not your fault.” Namjoon reaches up to thumb away a tear on Jimin's cheek that he hadn’t realized he’d let out.

- it shocks him almost more than the sudden affection does. Enough that he lets out a low whine. Not knowing what to do with his hands until they close around the hem of namjoon’s flannel, jerking the larger hybrid towards Jimin, making his pine scent settle over Jimin like a comforting blanket - strong and alpha and everything Jimin wants to press himself into-

- A cat hybrid bustles through the entryway carrying a crate full of something- headed for the basement refrigerators, and Namjoon straightens, his mask of careful control back in place- (like it always does, Jimin thinks a little sourly) as Jimin steps away and shakes off. Jimin wonders if he had dreamed up the brief heavy look in his face or if it had never been there at all.

- Both of them hear the sound of you upstairs, lingering “Do you want me to stay?” a pause, and then you continue, “okay, I’ll come to check on you later- don’t turn the shower on too cold or else you’ll go into shock okay Yoon?”

- If Jimin did know any better (and he certainly knows better) he would have mistaken Namjoon’s look for the same one he gives you when you reappear at the top of the stairs, Namjoon and Jimin spill onto the landing to make room for you. Namjoon’s hand hovers on your arm, tugging you in close for a moment, he can audibly hear the swallow you let out as Namjoon buries his face in your shoulder, tension locked in every muscle of his body until he exhales.

- “I’ll help you with the garden for the rest of the day just let me grab my hat Jimin.” You say, smiling at him, but Jimin can see the clenched worry in the set of your mouth. Namjoon gives your retreating form a withering look and he tells Jimin under his breath, “make sure she rests when she gets tired okay?” Namjoon asks, to which Jimin nods, his tail swishing between his legs. “I heard that!” you shout from what must be your and Namjoon’s room.

- You and Jimin spend the rest of the day watering the cutting garden, and Jimin finds himself asking you what kind of plants these ones are. They’re large and pretty. A little ruffly and torn looking but beautiful none the less with a strong floral scent that sort of reminds him of how you smell. Jimin likes them, especially the light pink ones that are the same color as the blushing sky.

- “We planted these for a local florist, they’re called peonies, and those are dahlias,” you say, pressing your face into one, the soft petals brushing against your cheeks as you rub your face into one, and Jimin feels his heart flutter like a butterfly. “hang on- you’ve got a little” he brushes away the Pollen on your cheek, “Thanks Minnie”

- Minnie- the butterflies in his heart flutter harder- probably causeing a tornado somewhere elce. He hides his blush by turning away to snip off some of the dying leaves with his scissors, trying to slow the thundering pace of his heart.

- Later that evening when the skin is purple-tinted dark blue, you stand in the cutting garden with Namjoon. Armed with a pair of scissors you snip the most beautiful blooms. Though it will be a few more days till you drive another shipment into town to the florist and you know the few blooms you take won’t be missed.

- “What are you doing?” Namjoon asks, taking the fist-sized blooms from you as you cut more. “Just making someone happy.” You say, And Namjoon just shakes his head. He knows what you’re talking about and who you're picking them for, And it might be for the puppy who always picks a wild cosmos and puts it on the strap of his sun hat, and looks at the two of you like he wants to be affectionate or dote on, but might not know-how.

- “He hasn’t had an easy day has he,” Namjoon says, voice low, you shake your head, because no- Jimin hasn’t and you’re only trying to make him a little happier. He seemed a little too shaken after the incident with Yoongi. a small act of kindness goes a long way.

- He finds them the next day shortly after breakfast, about to change into a pair of shorts so that he can swim in the stream with Taehyung and some of his other bunkmates before work starts. He finds the pink, white, and purple blooms stuffed into a jam jar on the small side table next to his bed. Blushing as his fingers skim over the edge. Unable to handle the sudden rush of hope and affection because he knows- he knows these must be from you- but he can’t imagine why you’d left them for him to find.

- “Someones got a secret admierer~” Taehyung teases with a sing song voice from where he changes- almost tripping as he steps into his red swim trunks. Jimin blushes and tries not to let him see.

- But when he really thinks about it- all he wonders is why. He’d hurt Yoongi yesterday- Someone who seemed special to you. He’d been half-expecting you to punish him at some point- not reward him with these flowers that he gets to look at when he falls asleep. Jimin hugs his pillow to his chest and lets the scent of you (because yes- you do smell like peonies) lul him into sleep.

- Yoongi appears by the middle of the next day to help Jimin twine up the lines of peas. Yoongi looks no worse for wear, if not for the bags under his eyes that seem a little shadowed, the elder doesn’t look like he’s gotten a wink.

- (Later- when you break for lunch- you and Jimin find Yoongi asleep underneath the shade of one of the oak trees that border the vegetable garden, His sun hat pulled low over his face to shield his eyes from the sun, and decide it’s better if you let him be for the rest of the day)

- Jimin is so puzzled by the flowers that he asks Yoongi about them. But the elder pauses, and shakes his head, making an X with his hands. And points to the other side of the garden where you stand, whistling a little and watering some of the carrots (the few that have managed to avoid the hungry bellies of the bunny hybrids)

- Jimin blushes and swats his hands at Yoongi’s small smirk. Saying “oh shut up!” even as Yoongi rolls his eyes, I didn’t say anything he can almost hear the other say.

- Late that night Jimin wonders what Yoongi’s voice sounds like. Then when the days press on, he starts to doubt that he’ll ever find out. But that's fine, they don’t have to talk to be friends. Not when he comes back from a bathroom break with a glass of water and ice for Yoongi only to find that the elder has filled his discarded sunhat to the brim with sweet Tomatoes and green beans.

- Namjoon makes a brief appearance one day to lug in a few bags of mulch in your private garden. Eyeing Jimin and Yoongi in the field, as Jimin points energetically to a small bright blue bird that seems very interested in some of the pees. neither of them makes to scare the bird off or pounce like a cat hybrid might, merely straightening up to watch, still as to not startle it, as it twitters and is joined by another bright blue bird and then two more.

- they fly away, and Jimin shouts excitedly and hops over to the fence, stoops to pick up a tiny bright blue feather. Jimin chats animatedly to Yoongi, who doesn’t respond but holds it up to the sky to compare the color. Both of them leaning around the light to see it, their straw hats bumping into each other.

- Jimin must ask Yoongi because he’s dropping the feather into his hand and tilting his head down so that Yoongi can stick the blue feather into Jimin's hat, right in-between an orange snapdragon and a dried pink clover.

- Namjoon sees the smile tugging at Yoongi’s lips and feels deep satisfaction. Later that night, curled up in your bed with your form propped up on many pillows, Namjoon tells you that you made the right decision to try and push Jimin and Yoongi to be friends. He’s gotten so much better; less twitchy and easy to startle. Both of them have really. They’re good for each other.

- you fall asleep with a soft smile on your face, cheek pillowed against the soft cream bedspread. Namjoon nuzzles his face into your stomach, resting his cheek below your breasts as you sleep on. You’re so used to his movements next to you that you barely startle. “Things are complicated little one,” he murmurs to the bump.

- Pressing a kiss to it through your large sleeping shirt (an old one of his) one of namjoon’s large work-roughened hands smoothing over it. “Only a few months now and you’ll be here. I can’t wait to meet you but I’m also scared.” He shakes a little as he thinks about it- about being a dad, about being parents with you.

- And then he thinks of the others, “We’re both going to need so much help, but I think you’ll like them too.”

- after he showers and before dinner time Jimin helps you and the few other hybrids set up the long table in the largest barn that serves as the dining room for all of the hybrids. As you hand out napkins, More than one of them asks you to get off your feet.

- He spends dinner on Namjoon’s left side and you on the other side and Yoongi next to you. The hybrid files in after everyone has already started at the line for the buffet of food. Keeping his head ducked and making himself as small as possible. Jimin tries to catch his eyes in hello but doesn’t manage too.

- - As April fades into may, Jimin starts to feel disconcerting comfortableness slip under his bones, the day’s aren’t exactly the same, but they do become familiar. And it doesn’t comfort him- it just makes Jimin anxious. the planting comes to an end, and the three of you find yourselves coming in earlier especially once it starts to get hotter. Because of the absence of work, Jimin often finds himself wandering the property without a task.

- The less work there is to do in the gardens, the more he looks to find something that will occupy him- any way to contribute more. He keeps helping during dinner time, to set out the tables and the dishes. And goes back and forth to the house to get anything he might need, unable to sit down until everything is done, even then, he barely gets a few bites in before he’s standing up to help bring the dirty dishes back to the house.

- You notice, Namjoon does too but you both quickly get dragged off to deal with another call that you’ve gotten to pick up another hybrid. And though Jimin might be hungry when he goes to sleep, it’s worth it to stay up to watch your car lights pull back up the long road to the main house. The anxiety in his chest is abated enough to where he doesn’t feel the hunger.

- That might be a bit of a lie, but really, he was hungry for so many years that he doesn’t mind.

- the presence of a new hybrid makes it worse. It’s the first house call you’d made since Jimin- thought you tell him that it hadn’t really been a house call at all. The locals in a beach town had seen a stray here and there lingering in the lagoon and the ocean waters.

- The otter hybrid named Hoseok looks like he’s been living on his own for a number of years. He’s Grubby, his hair overgrown but cut short by your hand in your kitchen the next day. And though he leans away from your hand when you try to touch his head, he eventually relaxes under your calm soothing voice, “That’s a good boy, there we go- now you look all clean and pretty!”

- “You think I’m pretty?” the otter hybrid has the Gaul to ask- shy- his eyes wide, and Jimin’s blood wants to boil. He sits with Yoongi at the prep table, helping the cat hybrids de-stem some of the peas and early spring greens that they’d harvested from the garden, and he almost nicks his hand on the knife he’s using. Next to him, Yoongi makes a noise and gestures at him to hand the knife over, he can see the scolding look on his face, “be more careful”

- He’s bubbly and happy after the first day, his little curved ears cooed at by the cat hybrids in the kitchen. Everyone likes Hoseok, Jimin should like Hoseok- but he can’t help but feel a little jealous at how he immediately fits in. He finds his place the first day when Jimin and Namjoon take him to see the sheep and other farm animals, immediately taking an interest in the thick skeen of bright red wool that Seokjin was hanging out to dry,

- The alpaca hybrid turns bright pink when he first sees Hoseok, all the way from his dye stained hands to the tips of his white ears. Jimin can hear the nervousness in the way he says “you can stay as long as you want- all day- it would be nice to have some company” which is funny because seokjin hates company- likes to be left alone with his radio and his pets.

- “Of course!” the otter says, ears flicking rapidly in happiness in his shiny curly hair, “can you show me how you dye the wool?” Jimin hasn’t ever heard the alpaca hybrid say so many words at once.

- Jimin wishes he didn’t feel jealous.

- But he realizes- as one of the cat hybrids comes to asks him which of the herbs in the garden are which, and finds that he does know how to differentiate between the different kinds- At least he’s earned his place here, for a little while he can pretend that he belongs here. He feels a little dizzy like he used too, unsteady with the pounding in his chest- he gets startled over the littlest things, Yoongi standing up too quick next to him or Taehyung’s loud laugh when he walks into the bunkroom.

- The next stage of his anxiety makes him annoyed, his will power worn down by his own inability to relax. He snaps at one of the bunny hybrids after she drops his clothes after they were freshly laundered, ignoring her apology when she drops it.

- He helps the cat hybrids who work in the kitchen making dinner one night and growls when they keep thanking him for staying “Jesus it’s nothing please drop it” and then immediately feels guilty afterward.

- He can’t be this way, Needs to stop being so easily irritable and taciturn. he remembers what his other bunkmates had said on The first day: Namjoon will throw anyone out who makes problems. Jimin dosent want to leave, can’t help the thudding breathlessness that fills his chest when he thinks about the possibility.

- He knows that Namjoon likes him, it’s the only fact that logically makes sense: that he acts differently around Jimin than the others. But he can’t shake the feeling that he doesn't really know for sure. And once the thought has fit its self into Jimin's head he can’t shake away the lingering feelings of dread- like he’s going to somehow lose his place here and have to leave.

- Jimin starts to gather snacks here and there, shoving them into the drawer of his side table, just in case so he has some when he gets thrown out of the farm.

- He even snaps at Yoongi at one point, when he splashes Jimin's feet accidentally with a hose, he grumbles and heads off towards the cutting garden mumbling about something that he needs to check, sequestering himself there for the rest of the day crumpling dried peony leaves in his fist. He misses the pregnant look that Yoongi shoots you- a worry you return.

- You can tell something’s wrong with Jimin- there isn’t any other reason why he’s suddenly started to withdraw from all of you. No longer lingering as much over the flowers and the fruits of your labor in the garden.

- You and Namjoon talk about it one morning after breakfast. Watching where Jimin’s sat on the grassy hill waiting for you and Yoongi to come out. Usually, he’d wait inside or sit on the steps but he hasn’t lately. You watch from the back of the house, looking out the window at him. Namjoons arms clasped around your middle. “Is it bad to assume that he’ll come to us if he wants to talk?” you ask Namjoon.“There's something wrong and I feel like I’ll just make him feel attacked if I ask”

- Namjoon looks conflicted, his fingers playing with yours, lacing and unlacing- your hands are so small His rough callouses feel good against your skin- rough in a nice way. “I’m worried too- but I think- maybe everything here has gotten to be too much for him, you know how overwhelmed he got in the first few days, maybe he just needs distance.” You nod against his shoulder, and though neither of you likes it. You think it’s what Jimin needs.

- It’s not really, so much of what's bound to happen could have been fixed by a little more care on your part- and you’ll never make the same mistake of leaving Jimin alone again.

- Over the next few days, Jimin can feel himself getting more and more annoyed- but he can’t for the life of him figure out why. He sequesters himself on the other side of the cutting garden trying to find some comfort in the flowers. But the peony rings just won't stay upright, the Dalia stakes too, and the daisy poles, the green garden twine won't stay tight in Jimin’s shaking fingers.

- Nothing feels right, he feels listless, skin feels itchy laying over the bit of pudge, he’s gotten since he came here and started eating 2 square meals and snacks every day. The tensegrity over his bones, never quite able to stretch, out the hot sun on his back. He feels sharp, his mind teetering on the edge of something he dosent understand.

- And like an idiot, he tries to ignore it.

- Jimin gets to his breaking point a day later- when you finally turn in from outside. It’s hot, and Jimin feels overheated and sticky with sweat, but he doesn't feel like he can leave yet and take a shower like he so desperately wants. One of the hybrids gave him a weird look when he was showering mid-day yesterday and he’d like to avoid that again if he can.

- Most of the hybrids wait until after dinner to shower but Jimin didn’t want to deal with vying for hot water. It was just another thing that made him frustrated. And he’s unsure if he’s more frustrated at the hybrid or at himself for making another social miss-step.

- It hits him there in your kitchen the reason why he’s so frustrated. He’s been here for a little over a month now and still- still he dosent understand the rules, the socal rules are still escaping him just as much the physical ones. In his old home- he got a shower whenever time allowed it- here it was seen as lazy to take one before the day’s work was truly done.

- There is sweat dripping down his back even as you get both him and Yoongi a glass of ice water from the pitcher on the table. “Do you want some watermelon?” Jimin shakes his head, unsure why he’s refusing when hunger aches in his belly. But someone else might want the watermelon on the table, someone else might need it so Jimin can’t have it- can’t intrude any more than he already does. He might break another fucking rule- it’s better, isn’t it? to just not take up space and resources when he can avoid it.

- “I could reheat some of the food from this morning if you’d rather have that? or we could make something else before dinner?” you proffer, washing your hands in the sink, running over them with the brush to get the dirt out from under your nails.

- “No you don’t have to” he answers too quickly. You let the silence sit for a moment before you’re turning to Jimin, And he feels something that feels suspiciously like fear spark and itch underneath his skin. You look a little put-out, biting on your lower lip and for some reason it makes him feel even worse. Which doesn’t make any sense-

- Why would you be upset that you can’t help a dumb puppy like Jimin? who can barely garden right let alone do anything like a normal fucking non-damaged hybrid could do. He’s not Namjoon, gorgeous tall and capable Namjoon, or even like Yoongi who doesn't even talk but finds himself more needed than even Jimin- the most replicable hybrid on the farm.

- Why does he feel like he needs to placate you- why don’t you just fucking get it already. You dry your hand on a towel and lean back against the sink. Jimin takes a deep sip of the ice water but finds it makes him feel sick. “What’s wrong?” you proffer gentle and kind.

- “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, he sets the water down too hard and he tries to turn away but you don’t let him, grabbing his wrist. “Jimin,” you say, and he doesn’t know if it’s a plead or a command from you. Maybe if you did command him Jimin would understand better, would know what you wanted better than all of this- all of this assuming that drives him crazy.

- He rolls his wrist out of your grip, suddenly whirling around, his voice a growl. “Would you just leave it- fuck- I’m fine,” Jimin can hear dimly, the footsteps above which must be Yoongi. Pausing and then rushing when he hears Jimin’s elevated voice.

- You pause for a moment, picking your words carefully “Jimin, you don’t seem okay- I know something’s been bothering you. Come talk to me about it, tell me about it,” Jimin’s scoff feels acrid in his lungs. “No thanks, don’t want to feel like more of a burden than I already am.”

- You recoil- shocked “Jimin what? you really think that? you’re not at all! please don’t think that, don’t think that you’re a burden! We love you- we care about you- we’re just worried”

- Jimin shakes his head, angry, he’s not even sure why he’s fucking angry, “You don’t love me” Maybe it’s the frustration, the frustration at all the heavy looks and all the kindness- none of which Jimin knows how to interpret or how to decipher.

- He dosent know why he said it- even though deep down he’s sure it’s true. He knows you love him. And suddenly the words are spilling out of him along with all of the fear and anxiety and petty anger. Even though deep down Jimin knows that he really doesn’t have anything to be angry about

- “I hate when you walk on eggshells like I’m going to go fucking awol because I can’t fucking adjust to living like this- and then go on treating me with so much affection like I fucking deserve it.”

- “Jimin- you’re not- we don’t walk on eggshells around you because we want to keep you far away, we do it because we want you to feel comfortable, we don’t want to force anything on you-”

- “Force me to do what? Force me to help out even if not doing so would make me a freeloader, but if I help too much then- it sets me apart and I just don’t fit in- I’m not even like apart of everything here- when I’m fucking suffocating under what no one says- no one tells me. So what? What can you possibly say that will help? That won’t hurt?”

- For once, you fall silent. Your hands drop, and Jimin feels the guilt swell up, strengthening to a crescendo before he falls falls falls and has nothing but the anger to comfort him, even as tears cloud his vision.

- “You treat me like this- like I’m fucking worth anything at all and it drives me crazy- I’m not like you- You ask me to confide in you but you wouldn’t fucking understand if I tried- I’m the fucking dregs of what anyone wants and I’m never going to be like the others- I’ve already fallen too far behind and you might as well give up-”

- “Jimin” its Namjoon at the door, his voice full of caution, not anger- Jimin expects anger but when he looks up all he sees in Namjoon biting his lower lip and looking like he’s about to cry. He reaches out to try and touch him but Jimin flinches back, namjoon freezes, eyes wide and worried. Jimin’s tail drops low, and he pushes past Namjoon without a second thought, leaving you there- you let out a strangled aborted noise in your throat.

- His beat-up second-hand shoes thud against the wooden steps and the adrenaline is still firing in his system telling him to get away from you. Namjoon calls his name and he breaks out into a run across the field, his ankles almost failing when he stumbles in some of the holes. The tears in his eyes burning as he runs and runs and runs.

- I’m never going to be like them, I’m too damaged for a life like this, I’m never going to understand how to function because- because I wasn’t raised like them. And it’s too late to learn- it’s too late for the life he wants- even though he never wanted it until they showed him what life could be like.

- Jimin feels terribly alone.

- Taehyung finally finds Jimin in the paddocks, deep in the barn with a baby lamb in his lap. It’s little soft pink and white body sitting in Jimin’s lap. Docile at his pets even as the hybrid sniffles, nibbling cutely at his fingers. He puts a hand on Namjoon’s arm, wordlessly telling him to stay behind with Seokjin. “Thanks for getting us Jin” Jimin hears him whisper. Even if he dosent sit up or stand to acknowledge his bunkmate's presence.

- “That looks a little nasty,” Taehyung says, gesturing at Jimin’s hand. He’d fallen on his mad run, his knuckles grazing the ground. And they’re a little bloody and dirty. It’s not that bad though- Jimin has felt worse pain.

- “You want to talk about it yet?”

- “No,” Jimin says too quickly, worried that Taehyung would leave and also- that he would stay. “But I think I should?” The little lamb seems to tire of Jimin’s restless pets and migrates over to Taehyungs lap. “Where were you before you came here Tae?” in all his weeks at the farm Jimin has never asked Taehyung about his own origin story. But the hybrid dosent look surprised or unwilling. The lamb lets out a little bleat.

- “You know the story probably, its the same one a lot of us rare breeds have- rich family- bought me as a present for their youngest son- never knew my parents, you know- the classic hybrid trifecta of angst”

- “I didn’t know my parents either,” they shift to sit back against the wall of the barn. “How did you end up here?”

- “He wasn’t always violent, but by the time his parents realized it had gotten out of hand, they barely cared he was hurting me only that I bit him back- they didn’t tolerate it and sold me to a circus.” Taehyung gets a faraway look in his eyes.

-“I refused to perform, and they put me out in the sun without food or water until I agreed, I escaped within the first week, they didn’t realize that the chain was rusty enough for a hybrid to break.” Tae’s softness has always been disarming, but Jimin has also seen the bear hybrid lift 50-pound bags of flour like they weighed nothing.

- Jimin thinks about his next words carefully, “Do you ever, think it would have been better if you stayed? sometimes I think I deserved it.” Taehyung’s inhale is jagged- “No- Jimin- you shouldn’t- you didn’t deserve what you got I promise you��

- Jimin looks down and tries not to feel upset because- he feels like he deserved it even if Taehyung is telling him he didn’t. The bear hybrid has never lied to him and maybe, just maybe Jimin didn't- maybe he really hadn’t deserved it.

- “I don’t miss it not really- but- sometimes I think- my body does or maybe my head? It’s hard to explain.” Jimin knows Taehyung is trying. Tae puts his arm around Jimin’s shoulder, his wide hands rubbing up and down Jimin’s spine. Jimin tucks his face close to his knees and lets Tae touch him. The repetitive pets feel nice.

- “Why do I feel so scared Tae? Why is everything so hard? why do I feel like I don’t deserve anything good? There are so many things that I don’t understand or don’t know- so many things I never even knew I didn’t know.”

- “I think I might know someone who understands how you’re feeling Minnie.”

- Jimin tries to turn away when Taehyung leads him up to the front porch where you sit with Yoongi, but his hand is strong on the back of Jimin’s neck. Jimin is a little startled to see Yoongi’s hand withdraw from yours quickly. “It’s okay Yoongi, wanna give us a minute?” you say, standing along with him as Jimin rises on the steps, hands clenched by his side.

- Neither of you talks, Jimin can’t look up to meet your eyes. Taehyung and Yoongi sigh at the same time. “I left some of my beekeeping gear down at the bottom of the hill- if you help me carry it up I’ll give you some honey?” Yoongi scoffs but shows a small smile as Tae turns and starts off with him down the hill. Yoongi sends Jimin a single pitying glance before he does.

- “I think the squash is probably done cooking by now, Come inside.” The ground floor of the farmhouse is empty but filled with a mild sweet scent. All of the other vegetables are already set out, The carrot, celery, And onion already chopped. It doesn't look like there's enough to feed the whole farm and Jimin is about to ask when you clarify. “I thought it would be better if we all ate together tonight, and this soup is a little specialty of mine.”

- You go to the cellar door and opening it. “Go downstairs, look at the floor- and tell me what you see.” Jimin listens- he’s always been good at following instructions.

- The cellar smells musty and cold he’s careful not to trip over the extension cords that wind down the stairs, the industrial-sized freezers and refrigerators hum and buzz. There is a barely-there stain in the concrete, rust-colored, fading like someone had tried to wash it away but hadn’t been able to it.

- “Why is there a bloodstain on your floor?” Jimin says as he comes up the stairs, taking them two at a time. You're just stirring vegetables in the pan. “iI’s mine,” you say, turning the heat down and covering it. Jimin's breath catches. You start fiddling with the other burner, “You’re not the only one who's been through some shit Jimin,”

-“Who hurt you- when.” Yimin pulls out a place for you at the prep table and you make a noise when you see his bloody hand, “my late husband,” Jimin's eyes hover on your stomach for a second before you flinch, turning away to retrieve the first aid kit from below the sink.

- “Why did he hurt you?” Jimin asks as you pull his hand close to you to rest on the table, carefully and gently dabbing at the broken skin with a cool cloth to clear away the dirt. You’re so gentle that It barely stings. A lock of hair falls in front of your face, and Jimin reaches across the table to tuck it behind your ear.

- “Honestly? I have no idea. Maybe some people are made rotten- maybe it’s easier to hurt others than hurt- but regardless- I hate him- hated him- But I also loved him at one point. And I think- until Namjoon came- I honestly was dependent on his approval, did you feel dependent on your old owner?”

- “Every day. I don’t miss him- I hate him too- but” Jimin’s hands are shaking when he looks down at them. ou steady them a little- rubbing ointment into the scrapes “I think that I miss understanding everything that was going to happen, knowing what my purpose was.”

- Your face is shadowed and dark as you keep working- you might not be able to fix Jimin’s mind- but you can help this- the wounds on his body that ache in time with the pulse of his heart. “People like us- we miss abuse because we get dependent on it- because it ran your life and now- you can’t make any choices without-”

- “Without thinking you’re making the wrong one because choices have consequences and now they don’t- not really- not in the same way. It was like that for you too?” you nod, starting putting bandaids across Jimin’s knuckles. The onions in the pan smell good and start to sizzle. Jimin is almost breathless when he asks- cuz now you’ve helped him put it together he needs to know “How did you get out- how did you learn?”

-“Namjoon was really patient with me, he gave me what I needed without letting me fall back into the cycle- I’m lucky to have him.” We’re lucky to have you, he wants to say, he’s never heard of a human who had been through the kind of abuse that hybrids do. But he thinks that maybe it would be wrong to say especially after the words he’d shouted at you. He winces, and you look up from his hand worried you’d hurt him. “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier- you didn’t deserve it.”

- You shrug, “We’ve been expecting you to be okay- and I’m sorry- I should have been more communicative. It’s kinda been a hard transition for you and I should have been there to help more.”

- “Why does doing what I want not feel free all the time? Why do the choices make me feel like im suffocating?”

- “Because if you don’t have a choice- you can’t make a wrong move.

- “Did you know- neither Namjoon or I can go into that basement without having a panic attack? There are other things too- like if something comes at his face too quick he growls- even if it's me. The smell of motor oil makes him feel sick and I still have nightmares- We’re still learning. The people we love don’t negate our trauma, but it helps at least when they try to understand it with us.”

- You set the last bandaid over his nuckles, and he reaches out to grasp at yours and give it a squeeze. You take his hand and lift it to your mouth all of the scrapes covered. You press a kiss to each bandaid and Jimin feels like he’s going to cry for a whole different reason- he feels so undeserving of your care and of your affection, especially after today.

- “I want to help you Jimin- I care about you too much not to try and make you happy,” Jimin can’t argue- not like he did before when he was too anxious not to perceive anything close to him as an attack. “What do you want? There are no wrong answers”

-“I want-” before he can answer, Namjoon and Yoongi walk through the door, the younger hybrid prattling to yoongi about the restorations currenly underway at once of the little chicken coops on the sothern edge- and then he looks back at you- your face a little tired, but truly truly imploring, Jimin feels a strange kind of acrid black hope lurch in his belly.

- Both of them smiling softly, Namjoon saying something and Yoongi nodding while makeing a so-so motion with his hands. When Namjoon looks up and sees the two of you sat on the kitchen table his tail wags and then falls still, then wags again when he sees both you and Jimin sitting close. Your hands still tightly clasped in each other.

- “I want to help you cook- can you show me how you make the soup?” Jimin lies. But you don’t catch it, even as you smile at him, and reach your hand up to touch his ears. Pull gentle scratches over them. “That we can definitely do,” you say. Namjoon and Yoongi don’t look upset with Jimin when they come close, Yoongi opening up the pan on the burner and sniffing the air. making a pleased noise in the back of his throat, “squash soup” you clarify and Yoongi smiles.

- Namjoon lifts Jimin’s hand up for inspection, “You okay?” Namjoon asks, his tail hanging low, he doesn't like to see the younger hurt- doesn't like the shyness lingering. “No,” Jimin says quietly, “But I will be,”

- Namjoon pulls him up with a whine, scent-marking along Jimin's shoulder- the other hybrid freezes and then whines when Namjoon’s scent puffs up fanning out to comfort Jimin. The other hybrid is so much larger than him, he makes Jimin feel so small. Namjoon’s hands on both of his shoulders holding him still. Jimin is breathless even after Namjoon pulls away with a faint blush on his cheeks- because Jimin- Jimin smells like Namjoon now.

- Every hybrid is going to know what Namjoon did that when he walks out. And it’s intimate- so intimate- because hybrids the only scent mark each other when they- Jimin's breath catches in his throat- when they belong to the same pack.

- That means Namjoon wants Jimin to belong here.

- “Can I-” Jimin knows his face is bright red, “Do me?” Namjoon proffers, and though Namjoon has to stoop for Jimin to rub his cheek all over Namjoon he does and looks happy, his dimples poking out.

- “What do I smell like?” Jimin asks, because honestly- he’s never known- never had another hybrid scent mark him. “Something flowery but more like- citrusy?” Namjoon says, taking in a deep breath at Jimin’s throat that makes a shiver run down his spine.

- Yoongi makes a noise and holds out a lemon- tapping it for a moment and nodding sagely, The visual makes you all giggle. You smile too, “What do I smell like?”

- “Flowers,” Namjoon says instantly, at the same time Jimin says, “Peonies... and cream?” Namjoon blushes- gesturing at your stomach, “that wasn’t there before- yeah” his dimples are so pronounced when he absently rubs a hand over your bump, You can't resist getting up on your tippy-toes to peck them.

- Jimin learns that even though he had asked you to teach him how to make butternut squash soup, that didn’t mean you were going to let him do any of the work involved. You explain how to do everything sure- but Jimin is banished to sit at the table with namjoon and watch.

- You and Yoongi cook, dancing around each other in a dance that seems almost choreographed. You must cook together often because Yoongi seems to anticipate your movement, handing you a wooden spoon to stir the vegetables.

- Namjoon pulls him back to lean against his chest facing where you cook, Namjoon’s back up against the wall the older hybrid combing his hands through Jimin's hair. Jimin would think it was weird had he not seen countless other hybrids cuddle the same),

- Yoongi brings Jimin spoonfuls which he presses to Jimin's lips and makes him taste. And Jimin wants to yip when the savory tang of the soup hits his tongue, makes a happy grumble as his eyes flutter closed. “Wait- that's so good- how is it so good?” you look happy at his praise.

- When it’s finished, the four of you eat out on the porch. Jimin licks his bowl clean, he catches Yoongi watching him, a small satisfied smile on his mouth, he even gets up and gives Jimin seconds. The warm soup fills his belly like liquid comfort. and after so many bowls he ends up listing to the side, nose pressed to the hard part of your shoulder, lulled further to sleep by the rub of your fingers up and down his skull.

-The kitchen starts to buzz with the noise of dinner preparations but jimin is full and happy, his sun-warmed skin soothed by the dropping temperature. You don't say anything when he starts to cry, his face hidden in your shirt, you just keep running your fingers through his hair scratching his ears. Namjoon and yoongi get up and go upstairs, leaving the two of you to sit side by side.

- No one hears the words you whisper into Jimin's ear, “You’re not broken beyond repair Minnie, help me- help me fix you- tell me what I can do to make things easier for you.”

- Jimin's eyes are half-lidded when he opens them, “Can you just- tell me things? Not order me- I’m not asking for you to like- control me- but I think if you just all told me what you want it would be better- take out the guesswork you know?”

- Jimin is so sleepy Namjoon ends up having to carry him back down to the bunks. his strong hands gripping Jimin under his thighs The smaller hybrid on his back, Jimin’s hands around Namjoon's neck. The younger hybrid nuzzling his nose into Namjoon's shoulder to get more of the pine scent on himself. They pause on the steps. The last thing Jimin is aware of is a puff of your scent and soft lips on his hairline. He wakes up in his bed the next day, his pillows smelling like Namjoon. His bunkmates give him strange looks.

- The next few days are better, and slowly but surely, the anxiety he’d felt dissipates. You give Jimin little moments to latch onto. the Stability of clearly communicated consent. You say “sit next to me” when dinner comes. Yoongi and Tae across from you at the table. “It makes me feel better the more you eat- I like seeing you full and chubby Minnie”

- The other hybrids help too- so you must have told them. Namjoon brings Jimin one of his old button-downs, a thick flannel that smells like the other hybrid. “This is too small on me now- so here- it’s yours.”

“Enjoying your courting gifts? Taehyung teases after he sees Jimin wearing it, making the younger splutter, “this? a courting gift?” Tae shrugs, “that's the only reason why he would give you something of his to wear- and both of us know it the alpha of a pack that initiates the courting.”

- The clearly communicated wants and desires do wonders for his level of comfort. Even Yoongi tries- writes down what he wants on a napkin at dinnertime. I want to help you in your garden today. No offering for Jimin to decline, no wiggling out of it. And slowly, Jimin finds himself becomes more comfortable with his place here.

- You try to keep the satisfied smile off your face when one day you ask Jimin to come up to the house- cuz it’s just too hot today- and he’s struggling to put together a trellis, “one second, I want to finish this before dinner” and he sits up with a jolt- realizing- he’d actually articulated his own wants for once, he’d asserted his own wants into a conversation instead of just- reacting to everyone else's.

- Your satisfied smile warms his heart too, you notice the slow change. jimin beginning to heal. “no- I don’t need that it’s okay” “yes you do jimin just take the fancy soap,”

- “Are you sure it’s okay if i-” “Yes it is I promise.”

- The change is slow but one day, He gets to the point where he can say “Tae and I are going to go try and find some berry patches down by the river so I’m going to meet him after we get done with the ground cherries” without fear

- Jimin takes a bucket and he brings back a quart of wild blueberries. You make blueberry muffins with them while Tae, Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin sit at the prep table. Yoongi carefully plucks thorns out of Taehyungs hand as Namjoon tells Jimin that even though Yoongi can cook- you’re the only one in the house that can bake. He even gets a pat on the head for his work and a soft “good boy” from you, and it makes Jimin's heart feel light and blooming like a flower.

- The afternoons stop making him anxious, and after the first few days, he’s inclined to relax rather than go in search of more work. He goes to visit Taehyung by the bee hutches, hovering a few meters away as Taehyung brings him a spoonful of honey. Or if he dosent feel like doing anything at all- he plays cards with you and Yoongi on your back porch, Namjoon too- if he finds out that you’ve all turned in for the day.

- Yoongi always wins during the afternoon card games. Whether it is poker or rummy the snake hybrid comes out on top- even when it’s something like Uno, and the elder will just shuffle the cards again for another round and smile a little, more than he does ever. And the three of you will shout and grumble in dismay when he shows his winning hand, round after round until dinner preparations start to pick up enough for someone to need help.

- One afternoon, you look so sweet in your loose taupe frock, the stretchy material pulled over your belly and your hair free from its fixings spilling over your shoulder Jimin sees the way that Namjoon has his palm placed against your round stomach and can’t stop himself from asking.

- “Can I?” Jimin asks, and you look up from your hand of cards and place them on the table before taking Jimin’s in yours, and oh, your baby bump is warm and soft and surprisingly more solid then Jimin expected. He wasn’t expecting to immediately feel like he was going to burst into tears, but he feels an incredible well of fondness well up in him. It must have something to do with the way that your peony and cream scent seems to tug at his heart like strings on a marionette.

- He wants to lean forward and press a kiss there- or nuzzle it and scent mark it the way he knows Namjoon does- but even that feels like too much. You must know what Jimin is wanting as you look down at him, smiling a little even as he blushes.

- Little does Jimin know that this is nothing particularly new to you, every time Namjoon gets a whiff of your pregnancy hormones- he’s gotten simultaneously possessive and cloudy eyed with protectiveness. Yoongi seems to be the only one who doesn’t have that reaction. But you bet he’s spared that particular embarrassment by his admittedly more human sense of smell.

- The rest of them don’t notice Jimin’s wave of emotions, or at least they pretend to be interested enough in the third round of hearts that you’ve played this evening. Though Jimin does catch a small smile on Namjoon’s face when Jimin scoots closer. Reluctant to let go now that he’s felt the soft pleasure of feeling your baby bump.

- The endorphin response alone has his voice husky, he’s a goner the second you lift your hand up and rub his ears, letting out a whine and putting his cards away- much more interested in begging affection off of you now.

- “How far along are you?” “Around 5 months now I think- nearly 6 now that I think about it.”

- The four of you decide to eat dinner out on the patio instead of joining the others in the barn. The older cat hybrid sees how slumped you are and how you’re near to sleeping on Namjoon’s shoulder, and brings the four of you out dinner plates, much to the thanks of Namjoon and Jimin, Yoongi nods gratefully when she hands over his plate.

- By the time Jimin reluctantly so steers his way back towards the barns, the common room lights have finally turned out. A lone fox hybrid sleeps on the couch in the common room, her head tipped back and the light from the tv blue across her face.

- He goes up to his bunk bed, the other hybrids sleeping soundly around him, perplexed to find his bed disturbed, his pillow gone and his blanket missing from his bed. He figured someone might not have wanted to get up to grab one from the linen closet downstairs, but when he goes down to the ground floor he finds it empty, not uncommon on a cold night like tonight. Jimin’s bare feet are already feeling the brunt of the cold stones, and the cozy but still slightly drafty barn.

- He goes up and notices that the hybrid that shares the bunk to the left is the one that’s taken his blanket. “Hey give it back” Jimin hisses hushed, fighting with the half-asleep hybrid whose eyes still haven’t opened, he’s clutching the extra warmth to his chest. “I need that to sleep” the dog hybrid on the bunk above them grumble and turn over in his sleep.

- Jimin puts a hand on his shoulder to really wake him, The hybrid, a wolf hybrid named Minhyung, wakes up with a start, arms already swinging, his foot kicks out at Jimin’s stomach. The sudden violent reaction tosses him onto the floor with a thump, waking those in the vicinity.

- Jimin tries not to let the stinging feeling invade too much even as his ass goes numb, and he flushes with anger, especially when one of the others whose woken by the brief scramble laughs at Jimin. Minhyung does too, looking barely contrite with half his hair messy and a little bit of drool on his cheek.

- Minhyung smiles showing his teeth. “Thought you’d be warming up that snake boy by now. Have fun sleeping in the cold.” He says, and turns to his side, ignoring Jimin. Jimin tries not to feel ashamed or rejected or any of the other nasty emotions singing in his chest at the indifference of the other hybrids in his bunk.

- A glance at Taehyung’s bunk, the only one who might come to his aid, confirms both that the bear hybrid was the only one without an extra blanket and is also still asleep.

- Jimin doesn’t even stop to think, he just knows that he doesn’t want to stay here on the bed, feeling cold and alone and like everyone in that room hates him. Feeling his head spinning, and his heart thudding erratically, he leaves the bunkroom and the barn and stops just outside. The cold is worse here and he tugs his fluffy cardigan around his shoulders before he starts walking slowly up the hill to the main house.

- The lights on the ground floor are all but turned off, but the glowing he can see in the living space foretells that of a television. He deliberates on the front porch for a second, wondering If he should even bother, momentarily worried that you’ll keep him out in the cold too.

-But he shivers and hopes beyond hope that you won't. And when he knocks on the door it's only a few seconds before he can hear someone get up. It’s not nearly enough time for him to think of a good excuse as to why he can’t sleep in his own bunk.

- It’s Yoongi that answers, bundled up in a pair of very warm flannel pajamas and a sweater, his hair curling against the nape of his neck from a fresh shower. The bright green tartan does wonders for Yoongi’s scales, making the ones on the back of his neck look brilliant even in the half-light of the porch. He’s a little wide-eyed and taken aback by Jimin’s presence, but he waits for Jimin to speak.

- “The others- they-” Jimin’s words fail him at the worse time, throat closing off into a whine, his ears pressed into his skull. “Is it okay if I sleep up here tonight?” Yoongi’s eyes are dark and half-lidded, but he steps aside instantly nonetheless. Jimin slips into the warmth of the house closing the door behind him.

- There is an old fashion black and white movie playing on the tv but Yoongi clicks it off and goes into the ground floor bathroom. Making a noise for Jimin to follow, he rummages around in a drawer and pulls out a toothbrush and a washcloth for Jimin to use to wash his face and leaves Jimin to wash up in peace. And comes back a few minutes later lugging a blanket with too many cords to seem logical.

- Jimin realizes what it is when Yoongi fluffs it out on the couch and a wave of Yoongi’s scent- like the crackle of heat and something that kind of smells a lot like marshmallows fluffs towards him- Yoongi’s scent. Taehyung’s words about courting gifts suddenly ring in his ears.

- “Yoongi, I can’t take one of your heated blankets on the coldest night of the season” Jimin protests. But Yoongi just shakes his head, putting his hand on his chest while keeping eye contact with Jimin meaningfully, then pushing his palm to the floor. jimin takes it to mean “I don’t need it.”

- Yoongi ignores Jimin’s protests and stoops to plug it into a surge protector anyway. The couch, which already has a pillow on it, looks even more inviting now.

- Jimin feels like a broken record uttering thank you after thank you even as Yoongi heads towards the landing, and up to where his room must be in the house, after nodding what must have been a goodnight at Jimin.

- The couch is so comfortable that jimin gets cozy quickly (even if it is a little squishy). His heart feels a little heavy with the events of the day. He’s sure you’ll ask in the morning, and probably Namjoon too. He falls asleep easily, sighing into the warmth of the blanket as it heats up.

- A story above, in the master bathroom, you’re pressing giggles and kisses into Namjoon’s bare chest. “Oh my god - we have to sleep it’s so late,” you already can tell waking up tomorrow at the crack of dawn is going to be brutal, but you can’t help it, Namjoon looks so soft and fluffy. He’s punch drunk and smiley with his hair ruffled at the back from the countless times you’ve tugged on it or ran your fingers through it in the past few hours.

- He nuzzles into your shoulder and hums. A strong arm clung over your waist that draws circles over the spot where your baby bump meets your hip. He pulls you snug against him, always closer- as close as he can physically get you.

- Namjoon whines, he never wants to sleep when it’s you in his bed- or more correctly- him in yours. Though it’s been months since he even thought about sleeping in his old room downstairs, and months since it was unoccupied by Yoongi.

- The only good thing about going to sleep is that he gets to wake up to you. The thought always has him going to sleep like a kid on Christmas, almost too excited to sleep at all. What a dichotomy love was, making you soothed and calm and at the same time too elated to dream at all.

- You try to get out of bed, prompting immediate grabby hands and a low whine that tapers off into a growl from his throat. You're immune to his display of possessiveness, and it only makes him melt into the sheets further. “Oh you big puppy,” you tease happily in response to his whines, Tying your fluffy pink robe around your waist concealing your nakedness as you head downstairs for a glass of water and leave the door open.

- Namjoon whines again with no one to hear and burrows into the warmth you left, getting impatient pretty quickly, kicking his feet a little when he presses his nose to your pillow and gets a particularly strong wif of your scent. his tail thwacking against the covers.

- The ground floor is dark, almost dark enough that you don’t see Jimin asleep on your couch. The blanket all but making him blend in. You only see him when you are already on the way back.

- You’re not exactly surprised to see him asleep on your couch as he hadn’t exactly looked like he wanted to leave earlier but there is something about the tense pull of his eyebrows that tell you there must be some deeper reason why he’s here. Oh well, you’ll find out in the morning, for now, you’ll let him sleep.

- The whining behind you and the sheer familiarity for Namjoon’s body is the thing alone that keeps you from being startled when his arms snake around your waist to rest on your baby bump. Namjoon stills for a second when he sees the figure on the couch. Jimin’s blonde curls puffed against the pillow, his thick lips pouting in his sleep.

- “Yoongi must have let him in.” Namjoon murmurs over your shoulder into your ear, hushed so as to not wake him, you make a noise in the back of your throat in agreement taking in the delicacy’s of Jimin’s face as he sleeps, unable to resist running the back of your hand softly over the top of his cheekbones.

- They’re so much fuller than they used to be you notice appreciatively. Brushing over his puckered lips, finally pushing back the blonde curls at the top of his head and running through his hair a little. Jimin tilts his face up, his cheeks flushed, Plush lips parting in a sigh as he chases your hand, needy for affection even in sleep. His ears twitching in the direction of your movement.

- “He’s so cute” you murmur. Namjoon stifles his laugh in your shoulders. “Yes” he agrees, his hands tugging on your waist, “now stop ogling the pretty pup and come to bed with me.” You grumble something like “you’re ogling too” but let Namjoon pull you back upstairs.

- On the couch, Jimin sleepily opens his eyes to the darkroom, hearing the thud of your retreating footsteps on the creaking steps. unsure of what he just heard was a dream or reality, the tide of sleep quickly pulling him down. The memory of the moment to be lost in his dreams by the next morning.

- When the four of you wake in the morning, it’s too a muffled shriek on your front doorstep. One moment namjoon is asleep curled around you and the next he’s vaulting down the stairs in only his pajama bottoms. Hauling opens the front door, splattering blood everywhere before Jimin can do more than stir and rub at his eyes.

- “Jesus what the fuck!” Jimin cries, rushing to the door while Namjoon blinks, Still half asleep and barely awake. One of the cat hybrids that usually come to cook has fallen back against the steps, disgust roiling in her face, hand against her heart in shock. “I promise it wasn’t me I just- I just was gonna get breakfast early and I came up and it was already there”

- Namjoon turns to the door, touching his face where the blood sticks smearing it against his cheek. Yoongi skitters down the stairs after Namjoon, socked feet sliding on the floor.

- “Fuck-” Namjoon growls out- turning to Yoongi, “don’t- Yoongi you shouldn’t-” Yoongi makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, goes pail, and Jimin makes the split-second decision, turning to him to block his view and asking him to go get a rag from the bathroom to wipe the blood off of Namjoon’s face. Anything to get him away from this.

- You're standing bleary-eyed at the top of the stairs in your Pajamas, “What is it Joon? what's wrong?” None of them knows how to say it, or what to say.

- Its blood has dripped down the blue chipped paint of the door and pooled on the porch beneath- its scales black and pearly just like Yoongi’s.

- On your front door, a dead snake hangs, gutted. It’s head nailed to the wood.

My Kofi

1K notes · View notes

that-good-trash · 4 years ago

Text

Trust Me?

Bakugou x reader / Shinsou x reader

Warning: Hurt/comfort, Angst, Mentions of cheating, Happy Ending?

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: You love your boyfriend more than anything but it seems he might not feel the same way anymore. When the same friend that planted the seed of doubt ends up your shoulder to cry on where do you go from there.

Authors note: I’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff and this was kind of my self indulgence fic. Please Enjoy!

P.S: I was thinking about jumping on the kinktober bandwagon but I’m worried I can’t do kink justice. Maybe look out for some quick one shots if I do. I am also having to rewrite the fourth chapter of Burn Away With Me because the original file somehow ended up freaking deleted (note to self and others always back up files or make a copy).

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Saturdays were meant for relaxation, for hanging out with friends without a worry. The weekend was meant to provide a chance to shed your hero uniform and trade it for a cute comfy outfit. Well that’s how weekends should be, that’s what you wish you were able to do. Instead you sat on your couch scrolling through your phone watching your friends have fun without you. Pictures of dancing and drinking continuously pass as your fingers move absentmindedly. A picture of Mina taking shots followed by photos of Kaminari on a tabletop. This always happened, you had been missing out for weeks now. However, this problem went deeper than missing a few weekend hangouts. Your boyfriend, whom you had been with for almost three years, had been canceling plans with you for the last few months. Every time you both had a day off, he always got called in or he had made previous plans. It was starting to get old. Had he always been so flaky? Had you just not noticed before or was this new. Either way you were now fully aware of his behavior and how little attention you received from him. Your screen lit up with messages from friends telling you to ‘get your ass to the club’ immediately. Oh, how you wanted too. You wished you were wearing a skimpy outfit grinding against your besties laughing and enjoying yourself. Instead of getting into your club attire you put your phone onto the coffee table. Your back hits the cushions behind you as you fall backward. A sigh slips out and you’re ready to reevaluate your life. What kind of relationship was this? You felt like you were alone, and it was starting to seep into your conscious letting that little voice grow louder and louder with doubt and self-deprivation. It took every ounce of your being to reject the thoughts, to lull yourself back into a false sense of security. Your phone ringing disrupted your thoughts good or bad.

“Hey, I was just thinking about you! I miss-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before the deep grouchy voice of Katsuki Bakugou interrupted you.

“I won’t be home tonight. Don’t wait up for me, just eat dinner and go to bed.” He sounded like he had been sounding. He sounded tired with a swirl of irritation and it took a lot to convince yourself that it wasn’t toward you. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from screaming at him for doing this again. You loved him, did so much for him, that it hurt for him to just blow you off. What was even worse was he didn’t even tell you why he wasn’t coming home. He just expected you to turn in early without even an explanation. You wanted to cuddle or go out with friends and he wanted you to spend the night alone.

“Suki… Why aren’t you coming home? You said last week that you were going to try to come home early.” A growl of frustration could be heard on the other side causing you to tense up. You knew you were upsetting him but that wasn’t fair. He had no right to be upset with you since you were only asking him a simple question and stating a fact. He had promised you that he would start coming home early to spend time with you. You knew that being a hero was hard, you were one. However, you also knew when someone was just making excuses and that’s what this was becoming.

“Christ woman! I have work to do! I said I would try, and I have tried. Obviously, I couldn’t make it home tonight so just listen for once and don’t wait up.” No chance of rebuttal, he had hung up immediately after snapping. That was it. The last straw. You let the tears you had been suppressing fall freely. Your phone was aggressively tossed to the ground and unfortunately your body followed it. Your knees hit the ground first before your clenched fist dug into the carpet. Your head buried itself into the carpet before a scream escaped. It was one of filled so much pent up emotion. A scream that needed to be freed, to help release you from this torture he was putting you through. You sat back on the balls of your feet, your hands swiping at your eyes rubbing the tears into your skin. You cried more causing your hands to rub harder, your skin stung and burned from the aggressive motion. Your phone chimed bring your attention back to it. Your hand held the device hoping for an apology but instead read the newest text from Mina. It was another invite, but the party had moved from the club to Yaoyorozu’s house. A smirk replaced your previous forlorn look. You stood up from the floor letting all sadness be hidden away by pettiness. If he could ditch you like that, go back on a promise so easily then you could go against him. He wanted you to stay home like a good girl, but you didn’t feel like being that good girl. You had never changed so fast in your life. Your pajamas were traded in for a formfitting outfit, one your kept for special Mina party occasions. You looked at yourself in the mirror with gleaming confidence. You outfit accentuated all your nooks and crannies. You looked smoking hot and with some simple yet stunning makeup you were ready to go. A quick text to Mina and you left the cold lonely apartment

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The party wasn’t over the top and thankfully everyone there was a former classmate. You waved as a few people turned to look at you. Sero had to do a double take to make sure he was witnessing reality and not a ghost. You rolled your eyes as his tape grabbed your wrist before a swift yank had you in his arms. A soft chuckle escaped from your lips that were buried in his chest. He smelled like cedar and felt warm. You let your body relax against his as he let you go but kept his hand on your waist. Kaminari had abandoned his post next to Jiro and rushed over. Before he could try and snatch you away from Sero a new pair of arms circled you. Mina was smiling against you neck as she stuck his tongue out at a now pouting Kaminari.

“I’m so glad you actually decided to make it tonight. We were starting to think you hated us.” You shook your head at the fake hurt in her voice. The boys weren’t helping since they nodded along with Mina. You pulled out his grasp backing away so you could see all three of them. They really had changed in the short span of time since you had seen them. Sero was rocking a cool new undercut while Kaminari seemed a little more built. Mina had also cut her hair, but you knew that since you basically stalked your friends.

“I’m so sorry guys. It’s been crazy, work and home have been a little hectic.” A scoff could be heard behind you. Everyone’s eyes shifted to Uraraka who had her arms crossed. Midoriya stood behind her awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Uraraka’s puffed out cheeks mimicked that of a chipmunk. You raised a brow at her strange behavior. “Did I say something to offend you.”

“No but why lie? We all know that the reason we don’t see you anymore is because of Bakugou.” Your eyes widened at her straightforward accusation. You looked at Midoriya waiting for him to comment but he remained silent, probably in fear of getting involved. You narrow your eyes trying to hold some dignity. “Bakugou and I are fine okay. I just haven’t had the time to make it to any hang outs because I spend time with him.”

Now everyone was looking at you. For being the only sober person in the room you were sounding like the drunk one. Everyone knew that Bakugou had been blowing off plans with you. It was inevitably that they found out since most everyone talks, and things get around. A sigh that matched the one back at your apartment came out. You looked defeated as you returned to Sero’s side. He rubbed your side while Mina shooed everyone’s attention off you. “You don’t have to talk about it but we’re here for you.”

“Thanks guys…” You closed your eyes trying to let your emotions settle before returning to the fun party you had yet to enjoy and partake in. When you reopened your eyes, a smile followed. You were going to have fun even if it killed you. Mina squealed when you asked for a drink and before you knew it one turned to three. Uraraka had ditched her sour attitude and replaced it with giggles as the two of you danced together. You broke free from Uraraka as you watched Kirishima walk through the front door. You didn’t even give the boy a chance to take off his coat before you were tackling him. He was shocked to see you at the party just like the others had been.

“What are you doing out so late? Isn’t Bakubro’s bedtime at 8pm.” Kirishima was able to get a laugh out of you along with the other members of the Bakusquad.

“Yeah his bedtime would be 8pm if he ever came home. He’s always working late. I never see him anymore.” As the words left your lips you felt the air grow cold. Tension was evident. You froze as you felt your blood run cold. There was an unspoken understanding, but you knew that Kirishima wasn’t going to remain silent. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly which was accompanied by a shaky laugh that turned into him clearing his throat.

“I might be wrong but Bakugou hasn’t been working late… I was one of the last people to leave the office. Bakugou left at his usual time…” You wanted to pretend to be ignorant, but this couldn’t be swept under the rug. You couldn’t act like you hadn’t just been told that your boyfriend had been lying to you for months. Oh god your stomach began to churn, and you pushed passed him and through the front door. You ran into someone before turning and throwing up into one of the planters. Sero and Mina ran after you. Kirishima stood in the doorway feeling guilty but also pissed knowing that the person at fault was his best friend. You felt a comforting hand on your back rubbing it gently. You assumed Mina but when you finally turned around your eyes met with lavender ones. A broken smile cracked across your face. He held his arms open and you ran into them without hesitation. Shinsou had always been there for you when you were both attending UA, but time was cruel, and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt secure in his tight embrace. You sobbed and he just let you. Your friends stood by watching with conflicting emotions.

“What the hell did that asshole do now.” Shinsou was never one to speak to you like you were fragile; he was always blunt and honest. He also never approved of your relationship so of course he’d blame your current state on Bakugou. You wanted to tell Shinsou but couldn’t get the words out. Thankfully you had friends who could speak for you. Sero was the one who spoke up. “She found out that Bakugou hasn’t been staying at work late. She is obviously thinking the worst but he’s probably training or visiting his parents.”

“Bakugou? I just saw him at that fancy restaurant that we went to for Midoriya’s birthday. He was there with some busty bimbo. They seemed pretty interested in the conversation they were sharing. She must be a client or some woman after an interview.” Shinso knew exactly what he was doing when he told you about the mystery woman. He hated hurting you, but it was a necessary evil. Shinsou had always had feelings for you even before he understood them. You were always by his side cheering him on and now he was going to do the same for you. Before he could build you back up, he’s having to let you crumble under the lies Bakugou told you. Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears and a storm was brewing. Your fists were clenched, and your friends hesitated to approach you. You swiftly turned around walking passed everyone back inside before grabbing your keys and leaving. You could hear your friends yelling for you, but you never stopped. Shinsou watched your car drive off into the distance. He knew this was going to end terribly but he would be there to catch you. Thankfully since the ground was already starting to give out.

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“Where the hell have you been!” Bakugou almost dropped his keys as you tried to quietly enter your shared apartment. He turned growling at your accusatory tone. He slammed the door before turning to you. In the light that was cast from the hallway you could see his hair was disheveled, his shirt was wrinkled, and you could swear he smelled a little sweeter than usual. The signs all shone brightly in front of you. Bakugou approached you ready to start an argument over your attitude but stopped when he saw your eyes. They were sunken in, bloodshot, and lifeless. He had never seen you like this. His expression softened before he reached up to cup your cheek. His hand never got to touch you before it was smacked away. “What the fuck Y/n!”

“Who is she… Actually, I don’t want to know. I just want to know why.” Bakugou wasn’t expecting your accusation so he couldn’t help but look shocked. Guilt seemed to creep over him before it was covered up with denial and anger. He scoffed and walked past you toward the bedroom. He didn’t make it before you had spun him around yelling this time. “WHY THE HELL DID YOU CHEAT!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP WOMAN! I DIDN’T DO SHIT! Who the fuck filled your head with such idiotic thoughts? Did you go out with those idiots again? Was it raccoon eyes or maybe that shitty Deku. Whoever told you that is a liar and needs a fucking hobby?” Bakugou yanked his arm away before heading into the bathroom to shower, no doubt to hide the evidence of his infidelity. You wanted to keep shouting and accusing him, but you knew it was pointless. If Bakugou thought he was innocent then he was no matter what kind of proof you had, which was none. Giving up was not an option and as much as this was your home you had to leave. Your chest tightened as you packed your bags. The only sound keeping you company was the shower Bakugou was currently occupying. You wrote a note and gently placed it onto your pillow before turning to leave. You felt your heart stop as Bakugou stared at you wide eyed. You felt like a deer in the headlight. He walked toward you, his hand reaching behind you to grab the note. He read it to himself before burning it in his grip. You flinched at the heat the radiated directly to your left. Bakugou growled as he loomed over you. “So, you’re leaving huh. You think you can just write a fucking note and disappear into the night. You aren’t going anywhere.”

A scream escaped as he grabbed you pushing you into the bed. His hands holding your arms above your head. He smirked as his towel fell at his feet. His grip tightened when you resisted. His knee pushing your legs apart. He shifted onto the bed never letting go of you and never moving his knee which was painfully pressed against you. “What the fuck are you doing Bakugou!”

“You think I’m cheating? Then I’ll just give you the attention you seem to be so deprived of to come up with such bullshit accusations.” You didn’t want this. You didn’t want his hand aggressively holding you down, you didn’t want his knee pushing against your crotch, you didn’t want his teeth biting into your neck like some kind of feral animal. You needed to get away. Your head smashed into his face allowing you the time you needed to get out from underneath him. He cursed while holding his bleeding nose. You grabbed your bags bolting to the front door but before you could open it, he caught you. His arms holding your waist from behind. You let out another scream of fear and agony before the back of your head smashed into his nose, again. A growl slipped out and you finally got the door open. Before you could make your escape Bakugou’s fingers slipped into your hair yanking you back. His lips touched your ear and you could smell the blood flowing freely down his lips. “She felt a million times better than you.”

No words came out instead a choked sob and a whimper as you felt him let you go. You didn’t even hear the door slam you were already out of the apartment complex and in your car. Your hands shook as you called the only person you could think to be awake. “Hey Y/n, what’s wrong?

“Shinsou, I need you.”

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Bakugou tried to call you a million times after you left but to no avail. You had even blocked his number. He tried to find out where you had gone but no one would share that information with him. He had even gone to your agency but all they could tell him was that you were on a leave of absence. Bakugou truly had fucked up with no sign of reconciliation. It had been a week of trying to find you and failing. Mina, Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima claimed that they hadn’t heard from you which wasn’t really a lie. They knew that you left Bakugou and that you were crashing at Shinsou’s, but they had yet to visit. Everyone was worried about you, but they didn’t know the truth. They knew you had some kind of falling out but that was it. They had no idea what had actually happened.

“Are you going to lay in bed all day or are you going to actually get up.” Shinsou was teasing you as he slipped on his hoodie that he had to steal back from you. The day that you called him he was ready to break Bakugou’s jaw. He couldn’t believe what you had gone through and he partially felt like he was to blame for telling you about the girl, however you had the right to know that your boyfriend had been cheating on you. Shinsou had tried to make you as comfortable as he could but you were starting to get stir crazy.

“Why am I hiding when he’s the jerk who hurt me!” Shinsou shrugged as you threw his blanket off your body. You rolled out of his bed and stood in front of him pouting. He ruffled your hair while rolling his eyes at your outburst. He had dealt with multiple versions of you over the last few days. Sad, angry, regretful, spiteful, and any emotion in-between.

“Y/n, you don’t have to hide. You are safe with me, but you shouldn’t feel like you aren’t safe out there either. You can go back to your normal life. He won’t hurt you. I promise.” You knew that Shinsou was right and it was time to return to your normal life. Your arms wrap around him before you kiss his cheek thanking him. Before he can respond you run off to shower. He smiles to himself before calling out to you that he’s leaving and will see you later. After you shower you spend some time laying in bed texting Mina that you needed a girl’s day. She was in no way against it and told you she would meet you at her favorite coffee shop downtown. You changed into a cute skirt and one of Shinsou’s shirts that was a little baggy, that you tucked into the skirt. It was a casual and comfy outfit. You grabbed your purse and your phone before leaving the comfort of Shinsou’s apartment.

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“Y/N!” Mina had trapped you in her hug eliciting a laugh from you. She pulled away and grabbed your face looking you over for any sign or marks that you could have possibly obtained from Bakugou. “You’re okay right?”

“Yes Mina. I’m… I’m not really that okay. I’m still coping with Bakugou using me, cheating on me, just overall destroying me. I’m mad at myself for trusting him for as long as I had.” You leaned your head into Mina’s hand feeling shitty once again. Mina pinched the cheek against her palm causing you to groan in slight pain. She looked sad; she was sad. She cared so much about you and it broke her heart knowing that you were still suffering. She was still missing details of what happened, but she was able to piece some things together after Bakugou drunk called her apologizing for what he had done to you. She was sick to her stomach and wanted nothing more than to call you and apologize herself. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you.”

“Mina you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m a big girl, I’ll be okay. And I haven’t been dealing with it alone. I’ve been staying at Shinsou’s.” That once sad look was quick to change into one of cat like curiosity. You had said the magic words.

“Shinsou hm.” You shoved Mina as the two of you entered the shop to actually get coffee. “I NEED ALL THE DETAILS.”

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“Bakugou you can’t be serious.” Kirishima had been following Bakugou after they ended an all-nighter at work. Bakugou was ignoring Kirishima while heading to his destination. He had gotten a text from Kaminari that you were meeting with Mina. Kaminari hadn’t meant to send that information, he didn’t even remember sending it until Kirishima called him screaming about it. Bakugou already made up his mind, he needed to see you. To tell you how much he fucked up. He needed you back, for you to understand how much he loved you. He regretted everything he had said, he had done. Kirishima had tried to talk some sense into him but he failed. Bakugou thought what he was doing was right and stopping him meant nothing. No one gets in his way.

“Mina wait up you are walking to fast.” Mina had run ahead after seeing something in the widow of a shop that she thought would look amazing on you. You had to stop and let a few cars pass before trying to cross to meet your overly excited friend. The moment your foot moved forward your arm was yanked backward. You gasped before trying to pull it away from whoever grabbed you. As you turned to free yourself you came face to face with something worse than a stranger harassing you. Bakugou’s piercing red eyes were staring into yours, a jolt of fear rushed through you causing hair to stand up and your muscles to tense. People walked by with curiosity since neither of you tried hard to hide your identity. What was ground zero doing with Hero/Name? You didn’t care what random people on the streets were saying or thinking. What mattered right now was getting the hell away him. You yanked harder but his grip just tightened.

“Please, Y/n I need to talk to you.” His voice came out pleading. He was begging you to stay and listen but every fiber in your body told you to run or fight. You let your arm go limp like you were giving in. “Thank you.”

Bakugou smiled but that was literally smacked off his face when you swung your free arm back before delivering a swift punch. Bakugou grunted in pain letting you go so he could touch his hand to his nose. You hadn’t meant to hit him that hard but technically he shouldn’t have touched you, so it was justified. “Y/N!”

“Don’t Bakugou!” Bakugou had reached for you again while Kirishima ran at him trying to prevent this from escalating. Mina had realized what was going on by now and was running toward you. Her and Kirishima were trying to prevent exactly what was about to happen. Bakugou caught you before you could run. His hands held your arms tightly, the fingers digging aggressively into them. You could feel how hot they were, and you were scared that he would use his quirk. You didn’t want to show fear to him. Instead you mustered up a face of pure disgust. “You don’t get to touch me. LET GO OF ME!”

“Will you shut the hell up for a fucking second. I just wanted to talk to you. You disappeared and I had no idea where you went, and I was worried believe it or not. I’ve been kicking my own ass over the shit I said to you.” You stood there letting a man who cheated on you, a man who used you and hurt you, tell you that he was worried that he was regretful. He held you like you owed him this. That was all bullshit. Your shoulders shook as you dropped your head biting back tears that you felt he didn’t deserve. “I love you Y/n.”

The world had been moving just a moment ago and yet now everything seemed to stop. Time stood still but the words echoed. Mina and Kirishima faded out of existence leaving only you and Bakugou. If this was a romance movie it would be followed by you throwing your arms around Bakugou before kissing him. This was real life and you felt no positive emotions. Bakugou’s grip never loosened and his eyes remained staring intensely into your own. He wasn’t going to let you go till you responded. However, no matter how you responded if it wasn’t in favor to what he said then you may as well have remained silent. You felt your heart race from the stress he was forcing onto you. The regret reflected in the crimson orbs almost made you feel guilty. You had loved him. You had given him years of your love and he shattered in along with your trust. You had spend the week crying till your eyes were swollen, screaming until your lungs begged for a break, pleading with some other worldly being to help you get over this pain, and wondering what you could have done to prevent this from ever happening. To say you didn’t love Bakugou would be a lie. You loved him more than some stupid romance. You loved the way he growled in response when he was bothered, you loved the way he never gives up, you loved his honest laugh in which he truly thought something was funny or enjoyable, you loved the way he would kiss you and run his hand through your hair when he thought you were asleep. You loved and still love so much of him but as you look at him those feelings twist like gnarled tree branches and you feel yourself choking back vomit. When you closed your eyes you could picture a woman running her hands along Bakugou’s exposed body, you could hear them panting and moaning, you could hear the secretive whispers, and you could smell the sweet and salty after sex scent they would leave behind. These things were what you dealt with, they hallucinations that haunted you after his cruel revelation. The cheating wasn’t the only thing haunting you. His hands holding you against your will, his teeth biting into you with no consent, and the fingers that entangled into your hair pulling with enough force to bruise. You had experienced fights before, but this was had been different, you were afraid and disgusted with that version of Bakugou. This Bakugou in front of you was the same one just using sad eyes and words of endearment to trap you so he could lock you up properly and punish you for leaving.

“Y/n… please say something.” The world was moving or at least is seemed like you were a part of the rotation once again. People were watching the two of you, but you didn’t notice. You couldn’t break eye contact. Your lips were pressed so tightly together that you were afraid if you tried to open them, they would be glued shut. A dry mouth and cracking lips prompted you to have to unseal your lips as your drying tongue attempted to rehydrate your lips. What could you say that would make any of this better? Was there anything that could even be said anymore. You wanted this to just stop but didn’t know how to make that happen.

“Pro hero Mind Control has everybody on edge with the news of this important somebody he’s been hiding from us.” The moment you heard Shinsou’s hero name the world was back to normal. Your eyes broke from Bakugou’s turning to look directly at the large screen across the street. Shinsou’s figure stood proudly on the screen before it changed to an interview. You watched the woman across from him ask questions. “So, who is this mystery person that you claim means the world to you. Someone so important that you have taken off a week of hero duties to be with them. “

You were the only person on the street watching this interview play. Mina’s voice once again crossed your ears as she yelled at Bakugou to let you go. Kirishima was going to grab his friend but stopped when you gasped. Bakugou had harshly shook you to return your attention to him. His eyes held a little anger and he seemed to have lost patience. “Y/n –“

“This person is someone I love deeply; someone I’d do anything for. I want her to know what love truly is. I love Y/n L/n. Many of you know her as Hero/name…” The rest of the words faded off as you cried. Bakugou had you at the brink of them but hearing this message broadcast to the world had them freely spilling over. A laugh broke beyond your splitting lips. Your fingers dug into Bakugou’s hands yanking them off you. He looked co conflicted, anger and fear blended. You didn’t care about what he was feeling because you finally felt like something was okay. Your hands covered your mouth as you tried so badly not to squeal. You felt the happiness fade as your wrist was trapped in Bakugou’s grip. He wasn’t going to let you go without a proper answer especially now that the world knew what Shinsou thought of you. “Bakugou please let go of me. This… this is crazy. You need to let me go because I… I’m letting you go.”

Bakugou watched you pull your wrist free. He watched you look up at the screen as it played the end of the interview. A smiling Shinsou stood on the screen giving you the confidence you needed. Bakugou wanted to let you leave but he couldn’t. When he looked at your smile, he couldn’t help remembering the times it was for him. You were his everything and now you were slipping from his fingers and into the arms of another man. You turned away from Bakugou smiling at Mina who was also shedding tears. Kirishima finally moved forward and caught his best friend’s arm. Bakugou looked back at Kirishima who mouthed for him to stop. He quickly looked back at you. You were now wrapped safely in Mina’s arms. The two of you sharing a moment that would live with you forever. He let his shoulders drop before turning around. He shoved off Kirishima’s arm before his hands found a home in his jacket pockets. He left you under the screen, now playing an advertisement for some useless product, hugging your best friend while crying over a happiness that you deserved. He walked away, one million regrets coursing through his veins. The one thing he wouldn’t regret was you.

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“Where the hell are the rest of the guests.” You rolled your eyes while Momo held your face still. You could hear Mina bitching in the background about the missing members of your former class. She had made sure that everyone had been invited and was keeping tabs of who had arrived. You could hear Uraraka enter the room with an excited scream. She could see your refection in the large mirror in front of you. Mina grabbed onto the girl so they could be over excited together. You felt so much joy watching them feel this happy for you. Momo had been doing you hair and makeup for what felt like hours and you needed to get into the dress hidden behind the bag hanging on the door. You felt a million things; nervousness, excitement, utterly in love. Not once did you feel regret. You could never regret this. You were about to spend the rest of your life with the person that you loved and truly loved you. It had only been six months since the day you and Bakugou had the confrontation in the middle of a busy street, the same one that broadcast the life changing news.

“Y/n!” You turned after the third time your name was yelled. Mina was pouting holding up the dress. She had a shimmer in her eyes and you almost told her not to cry or she’d ruin her makeup. She’d just tell you to shut up. “Yes Mina.”

“It’s time.” All three girls in the room with you had that glossiness to their eyes as they watched you slip the dress on. It fit perfectly, like it was meant to. You were a different person as you stared at your reflection. This was something you had always dreamed about and here you were living a fantasy, but it wasn’t. It was reality. A knock on the door was followed by the voice of Sero. “Let’s get this show on the road ladies.”

The girls opened the door shoving through the waiting boys who were cackling until they saw you. Kaminari pretended to faint while Sero whistled. Both boys admired you and they honestly thought you looked beyond stunning. You were a single star in an almost pitch-black sky, you just needed to walk down an aisle to find another star so you wouldn’t be so lonely. The music started up and you nodded at your best friends. They smiled back leading the way to your destiny.

“Nervous?” Midoriya had whispered to Shinsou as he stood next to him. He looked over the crowd or friends and former classmates. They all watched with bated breath. You were the star of this event. Of course, Shinsou was nervous. He was marrying the girl of his dreams, the person that gave him purpose. Shinsou watched and when you arrived at the end of the aisle, he felt everything disappear. The guests were gone, his friends gone, the whole world meant nothing. It was black and you were the only light he could see. The way your hair was styled held together by pins and clips hidden underneath a white veil. You were a mystery that he already knew everything about. Like a child who still waited for gifts on Christmas but knew Santa wasn’t real. The way your skin shimmered like rare and brilliant gemstones made Shinsou feel like he wasn’t worthy. Your dress moved so smoothly around and against every curve and bump your body had. Your body made the dress gorgeous, gave it value. He couldn’t see your eyes behind the veil, but he could imagine them. They held stars in them, creating galaxies that he had gotten lost in so many times. Your eyes had depth to them, they told a story and its cliché but its his favorite story. Shinsou hadn’t realized he was crying until your hand gently touched his cheek. Your veil had been flipped over your head revealing your own tears. Shinsou leaned into your touch his own hand moving to cup your face as well. If it hadn’t been for the vows, he would have kissed you right then. You both shared a silent moment of unconditional love before the wedding continued.

The vows could have been skipped because anything you both had to say then you had already said before. No words could ever truly describe how you felt about each other because it was more than just words. Your relationship was based on actions, words, looks, gestures; everything and anything you both did for and around the other mattered as an expression of love. He had tried so hard to make up for everything you had to suffer, and he knew that you might have moments where you questioned him, but he always made sure to have answers or words of reassurance. He never wanted to hurt you and he swore on his life that he wouldn’t.

“I do.” You had spoken the binding words and Shinsou followed. The kiss was simple and yet it held so much meaning. It meant more than the rings. It was something Shinsou would never forget. Everyone cheered and some people cried. Mina was holding onto Uraraka both girls sobbing, Midoriya squeezed Shinsou’s shoulder giving him a thumbs up while his own ducts betrayed him.

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

“You look so god damn beautiful.” A drunk Kaminari was hanging off you while you chatted away with guests. Mina yanked him off scolding him for his behavior before shooing him away. You laughed not minding at all. While you stood amongst friends who showered you with congratulations and compliments, Shinsou stood leaning against one of the walls near the bar. He had watched you cherishing these moments. He turned when he heard a familiar voice enter his vicinity. He turned in time to see Kirishima and Bakugou walking toward you. He was quick to make his way back to your side in case of any bad blood. Bakugou scoffed when Shinsou appeared but didn’t give him any attention. You smiled at the blonde and red head. Kirishima told you how happy he was for you before leaving the three of you alone.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.” It was the simplest exchange you had ever had with Bakugou, but it meant a lot to you both. He needed to know that you had finally found the love and happiness you desired and deserved. You needed to know that he was able to let you go without fight. He nodded and hugged you whispering his congratulations. You thanked him before Momo’s voice came over the speakers announcing the first dance starting. Shinsou waved you to the dance floor promising to join you in a moment. He waited for you to leave before looking at Bakugou. Bakugou waited for a threat or some kind of scolding but nothing came. Shinsou remained silent. Bakugou took this opportunity to speak.

“Thank you for taking care of her. I can tell you make her happy and that’s what really matters.” Shinsou still remained silent and Bakugou continued. “I do have a question though. Y/n said I had been cheating and in an angry moment I basically said I was even though I hadn’t done so. Shitty hair told me you told her you had seen me with some woman. I don’t remember going to that restaurant with anyone other than coworkers or interviewers.”

“I lied.” Bakugou stood there frozen with wide eyes. He slowly turned to catch a glimpse of Shinsou’s smirk and a slight darkness behind his eyes. “I lied to Y/n about seeing you with some broad. I knew she would believe me, and I had my doubts about your faithfulness. I should be thanking you for verifying my lie. You made a single lie into an irrefutable truth all because you wanted to hurt her”

Shinsou walked away heading toward you. He never spared Bakugou a second glance as he grabbed your hands kissing them. You giggled before the music began. Bakugou stood with Shinsou’s reveal on his shoulders. In the end he was the one who destroyed your trust but Shinsou admitted to planting the seed of doubt. But all that mattered now was your happiness, right?

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