#But that's beside the point even assuming that you WERE in need of a playlist of Top 40 hits

[the-busy-ghost]

Will never understand why Spotify keeps trying to advertise Top 40/UK Charts playlists to me, like who tunes into Spotify specifically to listen to a playlist of Top 40 music? You mean the same Top 40 music that is on every radio station 24/7? The same Top 40 music that is forced into your eardrums ad nauseum, to the point where even if you liked the music to begin with, it very soon becomes meaningless and also oddly rage-inducing? The same Top 40 music I trip over on my way out of the house every morning? The same Top 40 hits that break into my brain and beat my sub-consciousness into submission if I so much as LOOK at a device capable of playing music? That Top 40 music? Who on earth needs it to be advertised to them? The sort of people who need a signpost to tell them they're on planet earth?

[qwimchii]

𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 (pt 5) — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

playlist pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 pt 6

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘸𝘤 — 3.3k

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘸𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘯𝘯𝘯, 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘢, 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦?, 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

note: i had no idea that i posted this almost an entire WEEK AGO?? istg it was only 2 days ago 😭 sorry for the wait lovlies, here's some unhinged content for you ❤️

the next few weeks passed in a dizzying flurry. work became busy and you got caught up between group work and your personal life—an old friend from college visited town, your mom and dad’s memorial service passed in a flash, and you worked at the halloween costumes, carving a few little pumpkins every now and then as decor for the church stands. the halloween festival was just hours away, and there was another group meeting scheduled just before it.

you dreaded it.

Simon and you had not spoken once outside of the meetings. just polite remarks and a yawning chasm that cleaved the space between you. to say it was awkward was an understatement.

you thought back two weeks prior when you were isolated in the church basement.

you didn’t mean it?

yeah. none of it.

the memory was a splintering reminder that Simon didn’t want you. at least, not in the way you wanted him. retracing the footsteps of your mind over and over, you tried to figure out where you had gone wrong.

maybe from the beginning, you thought bitterly, failing to forget your rude, blunt behavior towards him. you guessed you deserved his treatment, though you didn’t expect him to make fun of you the way that he did.

have you never dated before? do you even know how to kiss someone?

just the thought of it made you wince as you entered the meeting room, later than usual. a dozen faces stared back at you, and Kate stopped mid-talk, eyes narrowed with something only you could decipher as worry. you just mumbled a quick apology, settling in your seat in the circle across from Simon, avoiding his eyes.

Sarah nudged you with her foot in greeting as Kate continued whatever talk she was going on about. out of habit, you half-tuned her out as Maya pat your knee softly.

from what you absorbed out of the random bursts of Kate’s words, the group met early to set up the stalls in front of the church. there’d be a costume rack, photo booth, pumpkin carving booth, face painting, and a couple tables for the bake sale—which wasn’t really a bake sale, but free baked goods because it was sinful to sell on church property, or something like that.

the church did the same events every year so none of it surprised you till Kate was saying, “now get dressed into your own costumes.”

what?

that was definitely new, you realized with a stiffness, looking around the group moving toward the exit of the meeting room with bags of, what you assumed, to be costumes.

when you didn’t budge, Sarah and Maya standing and grabbing their own things, they both paused, giving you curious looks.

Maya called your name in question and you just stayed stock still in your chair, feeling like life was being drained from your blood.

“oh my gosh,” Sarah said, a slow, impish smile spreading over your lips. Kate’s head immediately snapped up from her desk, looking pale and panicked.

“what? what is it?”

Maya pointed at you. “you didn’t bring a costume.”

your voice was high strung and tight. “i didn’t know we needed one.”

Sarah laughed out, long and airy, before gliding out the meeting room, absolutely beside herself.

Kate sounded peeved. “did you not look at the email chain?”

email, you thought, a stale taste in your mouth, who the fuck uses email these days?

Maya offered you a look of sympathy. “maybe run home really quick?”

Kate stood at her desk, just shaking her head. “don’t worry. i planned for this.”

she shooed Maya away and tugged over a plastic box from her desk, popping open the lid. inside it were an array of outfits.

she gestured to it. “pick one.”

sighing, you crouched down and pulled out the first costume that caught your eye—a greenish, white airy dress. turning it around, you realized floppy wings were already sown into the back of it. 

snatching up your purse, you tucked the dress under your arm, about to make a beeline for the bathroom when Kate clutched your elbow, pulling back to her.

with a muffled noise of surprise, your brow furrowed at the pinched look of concern over her face. 

“halloween is your favorite holiday,” she chewed out, “why aren’t you acting like it is?”

“what?” you spluttered. technically, halloween was in two days. the festival happened just prior. 

you could’ve been a smart ass about it, but instead you bit back the retort, because you knew what she meant. usually, you’d be ecstatic the whole month before halloween. but these days, only a circling, endless pit of dread followed you to sleep, and was still there when you woke every morning.

“what’s wrong, hon’?” she pressed and you just shook your head with a laugh, lying through clenched teeth.

“nothing.”

you knew she didn’t believe you for a second because her grip only tightened on your elbow. “is there something going on between you and Simon?”

your gaze widened for a split-second, before you blinked it away, eyes darting away from hers. “of course not.”

she just scoffed. “like hell there’s not.”

you rolled your eyes. “not in the lord’s house, Kate—”

“listen to me,” she said, jerking you closer to her, and you muffled a yelp. “if there’s not something wrong with you, then there’s definitely something wrong with Simon. he was doing better. now he’s… acting strange.”

you cocked a brow at her. “he’s always a bit strange.”

she eyed you in return. “not as strange as how you’ve been acting.”

“ouch. that hurts,” you deadpanned, shaking free from her grip. she relented with a low grumble.

rubbing at her temple, she sighed as you turned from before, stopping you when she said, “just smooth out whatever’s going on between you. he’s going back for work soon.”

your blood ran cold. “what?”

“he won’t be on leave for another couple of months, so i suggest you talk to him today,” she said, moving to her desk. 

you stared after her, wanting to ask more, but bit down on your tongue when a couple girls, chattering between each other, returned from the bathroom.

in their stead, you trudged down the hallway and into the old bathroom with a flickering, artificial lighting burning down overhead. in a stall, you stripped yourself and shimmied into the dress, the cheap fabric grating against your skin, but you wouldn’t complain since this situation had arisen due to your own fault.

moving past a couple other girls by the sinks, exchanging a couple words with them, a genuine smile twisting your lips, but then you looked at yourself in the mirror and almost cringed. the dress was a lot more revealing than you would have ever chosen for yourself in public—hugging at your body in the way your baggy outfits did not.

Iris stepped out of one of the stalls, whistling lowly. “lookin’ good, girlie.”

with a blush, you mumbled a thanks, digging around your purse for your makeup bag that you, thankfully, had shoved into your purse on a whim before work that morning. opening it, you began to apply a thing base, then soft shimmers around your eyes, attempting to look as fairy-like as you could.

“who are you trying to look good for?” Iris asked beside you, squinting into the mirror to brush mascara over her lashes. 

with a bitter feeling, you noticed its brand. dior.

you choked a strained laugh, waving her off. “just the endless line of ladies.”

“right,” she sang, and you flinched when she put down the tube of makeup with a loud clunk against the porcelain sink. “‘cause you and i both know that you’re lesbian.”

you paused at that, brushing away the last bits of powder on your face. through the mirror, the girls behind you, Iris’s friends in the group, had fallen silent. 

you glanced at her through your peripheral. “what do you mean by that?”

she turned to you, lips screwed in a thin line, hand on her hip.

“how long have you been fucking Simon for?”

jaw dropping, and you turned to look at her, taking in the intensity of her hot glare and the angry twitch of her features. 

you should’ve denied it, but remembering the way she clung to Simon after the night of the party, all bashful and talkative with him, your own anger simmered to the surface.

“none of your business,” you said in a cool voice, turning back to the mirror to finish with a light blush over your nose and cheeks.

she scoffed. “you’re a bitch.”

your brows twitched together, and you reached up to rub at the spot, willing it away. “okay.”

she stepped towards you, jerking her hand up so it almost knocked against your face, the tip of her acrylic pressed to your cheek.

“you always complain about how much you hate men, but as soon as you go near one, you’re start fucking them.”

you completely ignored her. “i don’t know what you’re talking about. why do you care about my personal business?”

she laughed, long and mirthless. “because you’re airing it out at every meeting, whore.”

you screwed your eyes shut, an icy feeling churning inside you. this was exactly what you were afraid of when new members joined the group. your simmering anger rose to a boil, and you swallowed the heat down, trying to lock it down in your stomach.

“don’t you have a husband? maybe you should pay more attention to that cheating bastard than a random guy you met at a support group.”

“excuse me?” she seethed, and you couldn’t help but give her your most shit-eating smirk.

“what? too boring being a housewife, doing nothing all day long? fucking men for money—”

the noise she let out was carnal, raking a hand through your hair and jerking on it hard, so your head pulled back with a painful snap. the girls behind you screamed, and a blur of a person rushed forward to clutch tightly at Iris’s neck and push her off you.

“you bitch-ass, motherfucking whore—” 

your jaw dropped at the sight of Maya slamming her against the tile wall, clawing at each other like two rapid cats before Sarah stumbled through the scene from a bathroom stall, screaming bloody murder.

one of Iris’s friends came up and fixed the state of your dress and hair, apologizing profusely for her friend, and you didn’t know whether to be angry at the girl, or thank her, as Iris’s friends scurried out of the bathroom quickly. you felt like you were in a daze, watching Iris drag Sarah by her hair before Sarah reached up and ripped through Iris’s hair so they were locked between each other, hands tangled in each other’s hair.

Maya was clutching at the wall, gulping down mouthfuls of air before she limped over and stomped on Iris’s open-toed sandals with a ferocity. she screamed, crumpling to the floor, releasing Sarah from the bind as she fell to her knees.

the three women stilled for a moment, panting with effort. 

“what in the actual fuck…” you trailed off, unsure what to say after the scathing events of the fight.

Sarah’s hands were on her hips, knees looking wobbled as she rasped between gasps, “we couldn’t let this whore bad-mouth you like that.”

she jerked a thumb over at Iris who had braced herself against the floor, leaning over her palms with heavy, gasping breaths.

Maya stumbled over to you, wobbly on her heels, and you enveloped her in a hug, trying to smooth out her hair to the best of your ability.

“you guys…” you started, choking up when tears brimmed at the edge of your eyes. Maya only hugged you tighter and Sarah limped over, cooing softly as she joined the hug, squeezing you tight.

“don’t ruin your makeup,” Maya sniffled against your shoulder, your dress absorbing her tears.

you quickly wiped at your face with a nod, clutching at Maya and your other hand holding Sarah’s cheek.

when Iris stood, leaning against the bathroom sink, the hug broke apart.

she glared at you, clawing the hair from her face. “are you done?”

sending Sarah and Maya a quick glance, you gave them a curt nod, and they obliged, stomping out of the bathroom. Sarah turned to flip Iris off on her way out, the latter girl just rolling her eyes at the sight.

when there was silence once more, you turned to the girl, taking in how disheveled and… normal she looked for once.

“your hair—” you said, pointing to your own head, and she whipped around to look in the mirror. hastily, she scrambled around for her brush but you just sighed and picked up your own on the sink, stilling her with a light grip on her shoulder. you brushed through her brunette curls with a soft hand as she glared at you through the mirror.

“let’s talk,” you offered, putting down the brush when you were done. “and let’s be civilized about it.”

she hmphed, not looking at you. “what is there to even talk about?”

you shrugged. “clearly, something is bothering you.”

“yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “your relationship with Simon.”

you bit back your own retort to remind her that she was married. “we’re just friends.”

her brow quirked at that, looking unconvinced. “really?”

“for now,” you said with a nod, and her shoulders deflated.

“i knew there was something going on,” she said, sounding morose, eyes flickering with a distant haziness.

“you could’ve just asked me,” you sighed out, and her eyes snapped to yours again, flashing with irritation now.

“i did.”

how long have you been fucking Simon for?

at the memory of it, you flinched. “maybe more politely next time.”

she just huffed, brushing out the wrinkles of her witchy dress. “you won’t tell Kate about this?”

you scowled at her before, slowly, your lips twitched into a devilish smirk. her eyes darted nervously through the mirror, inching away from you.

“i won’t, because we played fair and square today.”

“what do you mean?” she chewed out, voice icy.

“you got to talk shit, and my girls fucked you up,” you said with a nasty grin, wholly enjoying when she shivered.

stepping away from you, she cleared her throat. “right.”

it was like she remembered where she was and who she was again, gathering her things and shoving them into her stupidly expensive bag with a poised expression. you watched in amazement at the calm, collected veneer that overtook her in a second, turning on her heel to strut out of the bathroom with an elegance before jumping with a shriek at the entrance.

you quickly trailed after her, rounding up your things in one, sweeping armful and shoving them into your own purse, your eyes moving up the way her spin shook to the sight over her shoulder.

a foot away, a man stood in front of the women’s restroom, a white, plastic skull outer layer over a black balaclava. at the sight of him, you muffled a squeak, bristling with shock.

but then your eyes trailed down to the rest of his attire—a sweatshirt, jeans, boots, and… gloves. skull ones, in fact.

“Simon,” you deadpanned, glaring at him from over Iris’s shoulder, “what the hell are you doing?”

“this is Simon?” Iris shrieked, shuffling backwards, knocking into you.

“i heard screaming,” he said, voice gruff and slightly muffled under the mask. “is everything alright?”

you rolled your eyes. he was a bit late for that.

“everything’s fine,” you confirmed, gently pushing Iris out the doorway. she squeezed past Simon, not giving him or you a second glance as she rushed down the hallway and into the meeting room.

the hulking man stared after her, before turning his head to blink down at you. even under that stupid mask, his big brown eyes were still the same.

“what happened?” he asked and you just shook your head.

“you really don’t want to know.”

he let out a low noise of disapproval and you waved him away, edging forward so he stepped further back into the hallway.

“there is one problem though,” you said, cocking your brow at him.

he stepped forward again, reaching a hand out to you, but you just shook your head again with a huff. “that mask.”

suddenly, his eyes pinched, and he reached up to trace the divets of the outer skull layer.

“what’s wrong with my mask?”

the genuine hurt in his voice had you smothering a smile. “nothing. just not for children. you can’t wear that at a church halloween event.”

he was silent for a long moment, eyes narrowed like he was weighing the pros and cons of what you had just said, before sighing out.

“fine,” he grumbled, unclasping the front of it and pulling off the baclava, leaving his hair slicked up in a strange, messy clump.

biting back a laugh at the sight, you made your way back down the hallway. Simon’s careful footsteps were just behind you as you stepped back into the meeting room.

the girls were loitering around for a bit, gathering up needed materials to set up the booths. Sarah and Maya chattered with the better half of them who were blissfully unaware of what had just gone down in the bathroom. Iris eyed you from her posse carefully, watching you move near Kate with a tenseness, but you just passed her, instead moving to the box of adult costumes. you rummaged around in it, struggling and failing to find any size that may potentially fit the massive man.

groping around at the very bottom, your hand closed around something small and prickly, and you pulled it from the box with a snort, eying it in your hand.

turning around, you shoved it against Simon’s chest, and he didn’t even flinch, just taking the thing from your hand slowly.

“no,” he said immediately.

“it’s the only thing we have,” you said, sighing out, gesturing to the box behind you. Kate looked up from her desk curiously now, eyes flitting between you and Simon, then seeing the thing in his hands and choking down a laugh.

he glared at her from his peripheral, his scowl deep when he tugged it over his head.

a smile tugged at your lips, and you pressed them together, failing to hold back a little giggle at the sight of the tinsel cat ear headband on his head.

“adorable,” you cackled, slapping two hands over your mouth, trying to muffle your laughter beneath your palms but you couldn’t cease the shake of your shoulders.

his scowl only deepened, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grumpy look.

Kate hummed approvingly by your side, failing to keep her voice even. “looks great, lieutenant.”

he shot both of you a glare before slinking away and taking a seat nearby, but not before he was flanked by some of the girls fussing over his costume. they insisted on painting a nose and whiskers on him in loud, sharp demands and he didn’t even try to hide their irritation with them. but nonetheless, he relented, and Sarah pulled out her liquid eyeliner.

you watched the whole scene with shaking trembles of silent laughter, crumpling into a seat near you, and he kept glaring at you from his peripheral. once your laughter subsided, you leaned back into your chair, the sight of the girls pester him, full of laughter, and the smallest smile stretching Simon’s face had your chest feeling full of gooey content. he lazily looked over to you, a small black nose and whiskers across his cheeks, dark eyes sparkling as his warm gaze ran over you.

cute, you mouthed, pointing at your own cheeks and he just scoffed, turning his gaze from you, but his smile only widened.

yeah this part's kinda crazy (and maybe borderline cringe?) but iris had it coming for her so idkkkk—

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[runningfrom2am]

requiem // part four

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.3k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: fighting for my LIFE trying to sort out my student loans rn. also i'm sick. butttt i did just finally get my hands on hogwarts legacy so that's eating up all my time. anyway that's a small update on my life.

also, reminder to follow @runningfrom2am-library and turn on my notifications there to join my taglist for this series!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

three months earlier

"You could write her a song." Clemensia suggests with a shrug, tapping her pen against the inkwell, hardly looking up from it.

Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. "Don't mock me, Clemmie. I'm serious."

"So am I!" She laughs, facing her palms up against the table and looking across at him now. "She likes music, it's like, the only thing she likes. It would make her happy, I'd bet. Is that not the whole point?"

In the face of something so juvenile as asking his best friend to go to their graduation gala together, Coryo is stumbling. You were his best friend, yes, he could just outright ask- especially considering nearly everyone had already just assumed that the two of you would be attending together, but something about that didn't sit right with him.

Other girls were getting special things. Flowers, jewelry, notes, and love letters that he had genuinely heard that, on a couple of occasions, brought tears to their eyes. Not that he wanted you to cry, but... He wanted you to feel that he cared. It was important to him that you knew he really cared.

"It is." He grumbles, rubbing his forehead.

"Okay, then-"

"I'm not writing her a song."

Clemensia sighs, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't have to be any good. Maybe it's even better if it's bad! She'd get a good laugh out of it too."

"Yes, and then I'd never live it down." He says, pushing his hair back out of his eyes and trying to put his focus on the assignment they were supposed to be working on. "Besides, I didn't ask for your advice. I don't need it."

"Yes, you do." She insists with a teasing smile, reaching over the table and poking him in the shoulder with her pen. "You wouldn't have told me otherwise. You were just too scared to ask directly."

Coryo lets out a deep breath through his nose, shaking his head in quiet denial, but she can easily make out the pink tinge on his cheeks.

"Coryo, you know she'll say yes no matter what, right?" She adds, her voice softer this time.

"That's not... that's not what I'm worried about. Necessarily, I mean."

"Ah." Clemensia hums in response, taking the end of her ink pen between her teeth. "More like... you just don't want her to get the impression that she was a last resort?"

"She's not." He defends quickly.

She raises her hands defensively, a short and quiet laugh falling from her lips in the library. "I know. I know that. I'm just clarifying that you don't want her to get that impression."

When he doesn't respond, pretending to pour all his focus into taking notes again, Clemensia lets out a dramatic sigh. "I don't know, just ask her. She knows you well enough that I really don't think it matters. Just... when's the next time you're hanging out?"

"Not sure." He mumbles, scribbling down some notes that he knows are hardly legible.

"Well, what about after class today? See if she wants to go get coffee or something."

"She's coaching until seven."

"Tomorrow?"

"Rehearsals."

Clemensia lets out a huff. "This weeken-"

"Orchestra practice." He cuts her off this time.

"Panem that girl is busy." She sighs. "How does she even have any friends at all?"

"We make time." He shrugs nonchalantly, as if it didn't bother him that he hardly ever saw his best friend this late in the academic year. That was common for you, though. Usually come summer and fall you had more free time to share with him. And he was happy to wait- it wasn't like he didn't get busy during exam seasons too.

"Okay, well, now is the time to 'make time'." She exclaims sternly, leaning closer across the table and lowering her voice to a whisper. "Because I heard rumours that Sejanus Plinth was intending on asking her, and you and I both know that she is far too kind to say no. Even if he is District."

Coriolanus' jaw tenses at that and he grips his pen just a little bit harder. "Have you done question fifteen yet?"

He had already been thinking about that for weeks, and he would torture himself for another week before he finally took Clemensia's advice and "made time".

You had seen him since that conversation he had had with Clemmie, but that didn't mean he could ever get himself to actually bring up graduation outside of asking you casually if anyone had asked you yet. To which, the answer was always an unbothered "no", and a shrug that allowed you to mask the sadness behind your smile.

He didn't exactly "make time", though. His plan was quite the opposite. Knowing you had morning practice, he got to the academy early and shoved the folded up paper in your locker and practically ran down the empty halls to the library. No taking it back now.

'A note? That's so stupid! She's your best friend! Just ask!' His thoughts race at him, but that's exactly why he did it this way. He couldn't back out again now.

"Coryo," Your familiar voice says as you slide into the seat next to him, hair perfectly styled and uniform ironed flat despite the early morning you must have had.

He looks over at you, eyes slightly wide out of nervousness. "Uh, hey... How's, um... How's your morning?" He asks, trying his best to play it casual.

You smile, sliding the folded up piece of paper you had found in your locker back over to him. "Good." You answer, already going about taking out your books. "Yours?"

"Good." He nods, mouth dry as he stares down at the paper, looking between the sheet and you.

Silently, you nod for him to open it, a small smile on your lips.

He hesitates before opening it, the conscious effort it takes to not tremble taking over his nerves.

He curses himself for his own fears about what it would say, blinking a couple times before reading the note.

'Want to go to the grad gala with me? -Coriolanus'

And then in small, flawless handwriting, a swift and smooth print that lacked any hesitation, there was a new line underneath.

'Yes :)'

"I only tried on fifty different dresses to decide on the fit and style of what I wanted." You say with a slight laugh, unzipping the garment bag that held your dress.

Coryo was sitting on your bed, like he often did, hands fidgeting in his lap. Fifty dresses to him seemed unnecessary, certainly you looked just fine in the very first one all the way through to the very last. But he did understand how seriously your family took your dresses, for both your performances and events like the one you would be attending together.

"That's... that's a fair few dresses." He laughs with a small nod, gazing into your closet and away from you for just a moment, trying to get a glimpse at your performance gowns you had stashed in bags and lining the wall. It's a wonder you had room for everything, he knew you had never tossed or re-worn a single one- all large in either sheer poofiness and volume, or bright colours and patterns that drew the eye and held them hostage in your form. Sometimes both. Coryo was never sure if it was the intent to make you look like a princess from a fairytale, but a few times a year he got to see you look just like one. What he imagined them all to be, anyway, when recalling the storybooks his mother read to him and left on the untouched shelves in his should-have-been baby sister's nursery.

"Yes, well, I wanted it to be perfect." You hum, pulling the dress out of the bag and turning to him, holding it up against your chest. "Thoughts?"

Coryo nods in response, swallowing hard. The dress was stunning, and the colour was rich- it would compliment the tones of your skin and hair beautifully. He had very little technical knowledge of fashion, but what had trickled into his mind from Tigris would lead him to believe it would be complimentary to you.

But he had no idea how he would match that.

The last of his father's salvageable dress clothes was that shirt Tigris is working on for the reaping ceremony in a couple of months, and he couldn't possibly wear that twice. If she could even salvage it. Maybe he should ask her to prioritize making it into something that would better match your dress, or just wear it plain white with the black stripes to the gala instead, so he would at least feel worthy of standing at your side. Then he could wear his academy uniform on reaping day, and claim he forgot the occasion. Would that be believable?

No, of course not. That's the day the Plinth Prize will be awarded.

Hopefully to him. Definitely to him, he had to pray. He was never a religious man- no one really was anymore, but reading about it in pre-Panem history textbooks, he couldn't deny the temptation to beg some higher power for help.

The prize would solve everything.

"You like it?" You ask, drawing him from his internal panic and he nods, smiling.

"Yeah, yes. Wow. It's lovely." He nods, clearing his throat.

"Thank you." You grin, looking down at the dress and smoothing it against your leg a bit to try and get another good look at it yourself.

You let out a soft sigh of contentment before hanging it back up. "Anyway, do you want to do like a matching thing, or is that tacky?" You ask, turning to face him again.

Coryo purses his lips in thought, drumming his fingers on his lap. "I'm not sure. Are other people matching?"

You knew about his situation, of course, though he wasn't fond of talking about it. Obviously not, who would be? It never bothered you, at the end of the day he was still your best friend- even if he never let you come over to the renowned Snow penthouse unless it was some kind of emergency. Regardless, as far as the two of you knew, you were the only one outside of his family who had any idea. And you both intended to do everything you could to keep it that way.

"I think so, I heard some of the other girls talking about it." You say with a shrug. "Just something simple like a matching tie or something, we don't have to go crazy with it."

"Right." He nods, thinking it over.

"Here," You say after a moment, reaching into the bottom of the garment bag and pulling out a much smaller plastic bag with fabric samples in it from when your dress was made. "I asked for more extra than they would normally give for fabric samples, in case we wanted to match. I was hoping we could ask Tigris to make a tie or a pocket square or something, or maybe cover your cuffs with it." You suggest, sitting on the bed next to him and holding out the bag.

His heart aches as he reaches out to take it from your soft hands. It's hard to place, almost- whether or not it's gratefulness or loathing of the fact you had considered such a thing at all. Attending an event with a Snow should not include the accommodation of whether or not they could afford to dress accordingly.

The bitterness fades and settles into thankfulness for you, and all you do for him. Silently. Without discussion, without real, significant thought.

You could be friends with anyone; the girls with wealth enough to bathe in like your own, Sejanus Plinth, even, whose family quite literally bought their way into the Capitol. But you chose him.

Granted, when you chose him, you didn't have the slightest clue of the financial state of his family name, but even when you had stumbled across that fact, it didn't deter you. Coriolanus often wonders why, but who was he to question it? Hell, sometimes he wonders if the roles had been reversed, would he have been so gracious?

"Thanks." Coryo mutters, clearing his throat and nodding. "I mean, she's the expert, so I'll talk to her about what she thinks will work best."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." You agree with a soft laugh that makes him smile by instinct alone. He couldn't help it.

"Um, I meant to ask," Coryo says after a moment, tucking his feet up on the bed and sitting back a bit, getting more comfortable. "Did your coach agree to let you change your song for the year end gala? The one you pitched to her, that was really good. You did amazing. At least, in my opinion but I don't really know what I'm talking about."

"Thank you." You reply through a sigh, laughing slightly as you flop back on the soft cushioned duvet next to him. "But, yes and no. Yes she's letting me do something other than 'Never Enough', but it's not that song I showed her while you were there. She said it was too long and would disrupt the entire schedule, which, in hindsight does make sense and I wouldn't want to do that to everyone else."

"Well, what is it?" Coryo replies, eager to hear something new from you. It was special, he knew that it was. He had seen first hand how badly you wanted to do something else.

You smile, looking up at him as he leaned back on his hands next to you, blue eyes searching yours as if they could somehow portray the answer sooner than your lips- despite you knowing it would be a song he's never heard or even heard of before.

"I decided on something else. It's gonna be a surprise." You answer with a small, almost sly smile while you prop yourself up on your elbow, gazing up at him with your chin in your palm. "But you're gonna love it, I think."

You really hoped he would, at least.

While Coryo protests, tries to squeeze the information out of you in the light-hearted way only a best friend could, you don't budge. The song in title and content reminds you far too much of him; of his pretty face, and electric soul.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[ineffablesuffering]

There Must Be an Angel (Aziraphale x reader)

I'd like to thank @avocado-writing for the inspo for this fic. They recommended I add this song to my 80s playlist (because I totally forgot this song existed) and this fic was born! I think this is classed as a songfic? I'm not too sure, anyway enjoy! <3

Pairing: Aziraphale x Reader

Warnings: unorganised bookshelves

Word count: 948 (short and sweet, might write a part 2?)

Masterlist

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

“Aziraphale?” you called as you walked through the door of the bookshop, the familiar comforting scent of dust, tea and incense filled your nostrils.

“Ah, Y/N! I was wondering when you would get here,” he said appearing from the back room. “How are you, my dear?” he asked, embracing you.

You gladly returned his embrace “I’m good thank you, how are you?”

“Much better now that you’re here,” he smiled “Shall we get started?”

You had agreed to help Aziraphale organise his books after Jim/Gabriel (you never were sure what to call him) had attempted to sort them in his own unique way. It had been driving him up the wall as he could never find what he was looking for. You were more than happy to help out a friend in need, besides, you enjoyed his company. You nodded and let him show you where he wanted you to start.

“It’s been so frustrating trying to find anything since,” he stopped and sighed “I’m not even going to mention it because it just annoys me. If you want to start here with whatever this is, I’ll start over there,” he pointed to a bookshelf on the other side of the room.

“Sure!” you said cheerfully, “you don’t mind if I listen to some music while I work, do you? Helps me concentrate.”

“Not at all my dear,” he said with a smile, “whatever helps you.” He gave your shoulder a pat before walking off to where he would be working.

You smiled at him as he walked off, pulling your headphones out of your bag and connecting them to your phone. You selected a playlist and got started. The shelves were a disaster zone but at least they were all of the same genre otherwise it would have taken all day to fix whatever was going on. You began by gently taking off all the books from the shelves and placing them on a table nearby before deciding that it would be best to alphabetise by author. Getting stuck in, you bopped along to the music playing on your headphones, singing quietly to yourself every so often. The time passed rather quickly and soon you were on to a new section.

You decided to take the section next to the one where you had started and repeated the process. Taking books of the shelf, placing them on a table and reorganising them. You changed your playlist to an 80’s one and continued to sing along quietly. The smooth sounds of Eurythmics played through your ears. You smiled and continued to work. “I walk into an empty room, and suddenly my heart goes boom, it’s an orchestra of angels and they’re playing with my heart,” you sang.

Aziraphale stopped in the middle of putting a book back on the shelf a few aisles away. He could hear you singing softly to yourself almost as if you didn’t think anyone could hear you. You weren’t singing loudly but it was definitely loud enough for him to hear. He tilted his head slightly, not recognising the song but the fact that you were singing about angels definitely caught his attention. He peaked out from the bookshelf that he was organising and walked around to where you were working.

“I must be hallucinating watching angels celebrating,” you continued to sing.

He stopped when he reached you and stood and watched as you continued to sing softly, not noticing he was standing there. He watched with a soft smile on his lips, you seemed so content organising and singing. You continued to place book by book back on the shelf in an organised manner and he just watched. You started to sing what he assumed to be a different song.

“I hear your voice, it’s like an angel sighing, I have no choice, I hear your voice feels like flying,” you sang.

Aziraphale leans slightly against the bookshelf just watching you. His eyes danced across your figure as you worked, he felt like he could watch you all day. You turned around ready to start on a new set of shelves and jump at the sight of Aziraphale watching you.

“Jesus Christ!” you said, getting a fright “I didn’t hear you come up behind me, is everything okay?” you laughed taking off your headphones.

Aziraphale chuckled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just heard you singing, you’ve got a lovely voice.”

You blushed and bashfully dropped your gaze to the ground. You hadn’t realised that you were singing loud enough for him to hear you. “Thanks,” you mumbled. Aziraphale stepped closer to you, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him.

“There’s no need to be shy my dear,” he smiles moving his hand from your chin to brush a finger across your cheek, almost appreciating the blush. “It was quite beautiful. Almost angelic.” You stood there, gaping at him. You didn’t know what to say or how to react. “What were you singing darling?” he asked softly, snapping you out of your trance.

“Oh! Um what song?” you asked

“The last two just there.”

“Ah, so that was There Must Be an Angel and then the second one was called Like a Prayer.”  

“Hmm, I see,” he started “fitting do you not think?” Again, you were at a loss for words. What is going on? You thought to yourself. Aziraphale smiled at you, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Tea?” he asked. You didn’t say a word as you found yourself staring at him as he walked away.

[cloudbersoo]

easy for you to say｜sung hanbin

synopsis: what happens when bloom dance academy's golden boy sung hanbin needs a new duet partner and y/n is the only one available? 

or; will y/n be able to fall in love with dance again? perhaps they'll fall for someone in the process.

tags: sung hanbin x gn!reader, dancer au, fluff, attempt at angst, insecure reader, miscommunication, happy ending, featuring: zb1 matthew and jiwoong, twice momo, exo kai, itzy yeji, ryujin and chaeryeong!!

word count: 5.4k

a/n: this whole fic was inspired by the ‘i like that’ dance hanbin recreated on weekly idol. i’ve never been more attracted to a man in my life, so here is a very self indulgent fic i wrote!! also this is barely proofread, so sorry for any grammar mistakes! hihi enjoy

my playlist while writing: easy for you to say & bleach by 5sos, sugarcoat (natty solo) by kiss of life, thanks to by woodz, blooming day by exo-cbx, anywhere but home by seulgi

i. that’s not good

every dancer has their bad days. but when those bad days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, suddenly your entire dance season has been nothing but awful. that’s how your previous season went, and this year hasn’t been any different either. you weren’t chosen for any of the small groups this year for any competition. you didn’t even dare to dream of a solo, even when you had one just a few years ago.

you used to be at the top, one of the coaches favourites. you’ve danced at bloom dance academy since you were three, and had gained a good reputation at the studio over the years. though, now that seems so far in the past. you were in a deep slump, one that you couldn’t get out of no matter how much you practiced. you think you’d do anything to love dancing again the way you used to. 

you were currently at the studio, waiting for the full group rehearsal to start, while one of the small groups was going over their dance with coach momo. you were sitting in a corner alone, while others were socialising or going through other dances on their own. your eyes were completely fixated on one particular dancer, one that probably made you more insecure than any other – sung hanbin.

hanbin was basically your complete opposite. he only started dancing in middle school, and joined bloom dance academy only last season. everyone around him loved him, and rightfully so, as hanbin was truly amazing. his body control and facial expressions were something you could only dream of right now. his skills didn’t come out of nowhere though, everyone knew how hard he worked. and unlike you, his hard work paid off.

looking at hanbin made you feel horrible about yourself, but you couldn’t look away. he was so mesmerising to you, the way he carried himself through choreography, and how he helped those around him. you were in too deep thought to notice a couple of your teammates approaching you. it took for one of them to speak for you to finally notice your friends. “y/n, did you hear about yeji?” your teammate matthew asked you as he sat down next to you. 

“no i haven’t, did something happen?” you responded, finally taking your eyes off of hanbin. you noticed besides matthew, chaeryeong and ryujin had approached you. “she injured her knee really badly at practice yesterday, she’s still at the doctors, they’re trying to figure out what’s wrong” chaeryeong opened up, clearly worried for her friend. injuries at this point of the season were the worst, but they happen every time. last year jiwoong dislocated his elbow a week before competition and all formations had to be redone.

“that doesn’t sound too good” you said, taking a sip from your water bottle. yeji won’t recover in time for the competition in four weeks, you assumed. not only will you have to redo all the formations for the full group performance and for her small group, your team will need a new female soloist and a duet partner for hanbin as well. “yeah, she’s out” ryujin confirmed your suspicions. “momo asked me for the solo, but i don’t think i can do it” she continued, brushing her hand through her hair. 

“i feel so bad for yeji, but at least there's a little more time than last year” matthew said in an attempt to lighten the mood. his comment did get a few chuckles out of you. 

after a moment of silence, ryujin spoke once again. “how about you y/n? could you do the solo?” ryujin asked a question that almost made you laugh. “coach would never even consider me, and… i don’t even have anything ready” you replied lowering your head in shame. it was true though, you were probably the last person momo would consider as yeji’s replacement for anything.

“okay guys! let’s start going over the new formations!” your coach declared, clapping her hands to get the whole room's attention.

ii. y/n coming to the rescue!

you were exhausted, just like everyone else in the room. your coach had said “one more time” at least ten times tonight, but finally practice had officially come to an end. today’s rehearsal had gladly eased most people's minds from yeji’s injury. however, you could only worry about your own performance, as today’s practice had barely helped you improve at all. you were packing your stuff, as you heard your coach calling your name. “hey y/n, could i talk to you for a second?” momo asked.

your mind could only think of the worst. momo was going to tell you that you’re cut from the full group completely, because you can’t get your shit together. it made sense, today’s new formations were going to look better with one less dancer, and obviously you were the first in line to go. you tried to hide your nervousness, answering her with a hum. you stuffed the last of your things into your bag and walked to your coach. “yeah, is this about the full group?” you went straight to the point.

“actually no” she started, sitting down on a chair. you were relieved, but only partly, as you had no idea where the conversation was going. “it’s about yeji’s and hanbin’s duet” momo continued, your coach visibly stressed. you could only imagine what had been going through her head the past 24 hours since yeji’s injury. she let out a loud sigh. “y/n i know you’ve had quite rough year, but i think it could be a great challenge for you”

“what do you mean? sorry coach, i’m not following” you questioned. she couldn't possibly be offering you a spot in a duet, let alone one with hanbin.

“you should do the duet with hanbin, i think you could handle it” momo said hopefully. she took your hands into hers, looking at you with pleading eyes. it was almost working, but something in you couldn't agree to it. you couldn’t possibly handle the duet, not when someone else could do a much better job than you. “i don’t know momo…” you responded.

“hanbin! please convince her to do the duet with you” momo suddenly said, her eyes leaving yours. while your talk with the coach, you had failed to notice the presence of hanbin behind you. you freed yourself from momo’s hold as you turned around to see the boy. “i just think someone else would be a much better match for the duet, i’ve seen it myself” you tried to reason.

“no! i think you’d be perfect!” hanbin said, which felt like an exaggeration to you. truthfully, you’d love to do a duet with someone so amazing as hanbin, you would be dumb not to, but your insecurities were holding you back. the duet was difficult, and with the little time you had, you weren’t sure if you could pick it up. few years ago it would’ve been easy, but now you weren’t so sure. “c’mon y/n, i need you” he begged. 

“you don’t have any other dances besides the full group, so you’ll have enough time to rehearse” momo added. you looked at both of them, the two of them looking at you hopefully. while you still didn't quite understand why they were so determined to get you to do the duet, you were beginning to yield to them.

“well, when would we start then?” you asked carefully. your words made both of them squeal out of joy. hanbin wrapped his hands around you and squished you into a hug. “thank you thank you thank you” he rejoiced, spinning you around in the air. you weren’t sure if this was going to work, but having people who believed in you definitely helped.

iii. cries and confessions

the duet was not going well, at least not as well as it should be at this point. you had rehearsed for almost a week with hanbin, and while you had picked up some of the choreography, most of it was still not clicking for you. hanbin had been more than patient with you, but his patience wasn’t getting you that far.

you groaned out of frustration for the thirtieth time in the past hour. you were having difficulty with your footwork for a fast part in the choreography, and no matter how many times hanbin went slowly over it, you were not getting the timing right. “y/n it’s okay, you’ll get it eventually” he tried comforting you once again. you sighed, wiping the sweat off your forehead. “no hanbin, i’m not getting it” you snapped back, your words coming out much harsher than you intended. “i’m sorry, i just- i hate that i can’t seem to get anything right” you apologised, covering your face with your hands out of embarrassment. 

“do you wanna talk about it?” he asked carefully. you’ve been asked this question many times over the past two years. your teammates, momo, your parents, even the studio head, jongin had asked you if you needed to talk about whatever mental block you were going through. but you never did, because there wasn’t anything to talk about, at least that’s how you felt, and you told hanbin that. “you sure? i mean there’s clearly something going on… i get it if you don’t want to talk to me about it, but i’m here for you if you need me” he responded to you.

“what would you even know? you joined the studio after my good days” you mumbled, choosing to sit down onto the dance floor, not expecting hanbin to hear you. the boy sat down next to you, sitting close to you, your shoulders almost touching. the close proximity shouldn’t have made your heart race the way it did, at least not after dancing so close to each other for hours to an end for the past week.

“i saw your solo couple years ago at a competition, and i thought you were amazing” he confessed. hanbin was looking at you delicately, his words filled with sincerity. you never thought someone so skilled and awesome dancer like hanbin would ever say something like that to you. “you’re pretty much the reason i'm here, at bloom” he continued, his words making you speechless. “i mean, if the studio had someone as cool as you, the teachers must be something too” hanbin kept rambling, getting slightly shy over his confession, his cheeks flushed. 

hanbin’s confession made you feel appreciated and sad at the same time. your eyesight was getting blurry from the tears that were about to break through. “well, that was me few years ago” you started, trying your hardest not to start crying in front of him. you locked eyes with him and he was looking at you with sorrowness. “and this is me now, someone that can barely keep up with everyone” your voice cracked, tears finally sliding down your cheeks. 

hanbin didn’t say anything after that. he wrapped his hand around shoulders, lowering your head to rest on his chest. he just held you as you sobbed. it was slightly uncomfortable, the two of you were still sweaty from practice, but you couldn’t care about that for now. you were starting to calm down as hanbin stroked your arm up and down. you brought your hands to wipe out your tears, apologising to the boy for drenching his shirt even more. “i’m just wasting our time by crying like this” you said.

“it’s okay y/n, you know, sometimes letting your emotions out can help you to move on” hanbin claimed, smiling softly at you. letting go of your shoulder, he brushed some of your hair behind your ear. “should we end practice for today? i could drive you home if you’d like” the boy suggested.

“i think i’d rather walk and cool down a little, but thanks” you gave hanbin a weak smile and started getting up. he seemed to take your word, as he got up as well and started cleaning up the practice room with you. the room was filled with comfortable silence, and you were glad you had someone like hanbin to rely on.

iv. nothing happened!

after your heart to heart with hanbin, rehearsals had started to go much smoother. some days were better than others, but at least you weren’t pouring out your frustration onto him. aside from a few lifts, you two had finished the whole choreography, and you felt good about it. even momo was pleased with your work, after you had shown her your progress. while the duet was still far from perfect, you and hanbin were confident you could do well at the competition. 

hanbin had also become more friendly with you over the past few weeks. he always greeted you with a hug, asked how you were doing, and kept insisting on driving you home after you were done, which was something you could no longer deny. he’d come up to you during practice if he ever noticed you frustrated, cheering you up and giving you much needed advice, while also offering to refill your water bottle. thanks to hanbin, you were slowly starting to enjoy dance again, and you think you’ll be forever grateful to him for that.

it was late friday night, only you and hanbin were left at the studio. hanbin had convinced you to stay for another hour to practice one of the lifts for your duet. while you thought it would be safer to practice with momo around, hanbin assured you he wouldn’t let you get hurt. so there you were, forty minutes later, probably at your hundred attempt of the lift. you had never been the best at any tricks or lifts, and at this point you didn’t think you'd ever quite get them.

however, hanbin was determined to get the lift right before you went home. “it’s not that hard y/n” he said, his hands on both sides of your hips. there was no hint of impatience in his voice, while he looked at you with such care. “easy for you to say, mr. i’m perfect at everything” you teased, getting a laugh out of him.

“hey! none of that!” he scolded you with a pout. “just trust me, i’m gonna catch you no matter what, okay?” he continued, squeezing your hips for reassurance. you only nodded, and on the count of three, hanbin lifted you in the air again. everything was going well, until you felt one of your hands slip, and the next moment you were laying on top of habin on the floor.

his hands were tightly wrapped around your body, and you could feel his heart beating fast into his chest. hanbin’s face was mere centimetres away from yours. “oh my god! are you okay?” you worried, trying to get off of him, but his grip only tightened. the act made you stop in your tracks, your cheeks warming up. “h-hanbin” you stuttered, now worried the boy had hit his head or something. 

“see? i said i wasn’t going to let you hit the floor” he only laughed. sighing out of relief, you brushed his bangs out of the way of his eyes. hanbin looked beautiful, even when he was all worn out from the hours of practice. you’ve always thought so, but now seeing it up close you were certain about it. he smiled at you, showing off his famous whisker dimples. you smiled back, as your hands laid against his chest. you noticed his eyes travelling down your face, to your lips, and at that moment you couldn’t stop yourself from hesitantly leaning into him. 

“oh sorry, didn’t know you guys were still here” you heard a voice coming from the door. being snapped back to reality, hanbin finally let go of you. you standed up and helped hanbin to do the same, the two of you now recognizing the person that had entered the room as jiwoong. “did i interrupt something?” his voice was filled with amusement. 

“no not at all, we were just about to finish” hanbin’s whole face and neck hued the colour pink, as he spitted out the biggest lie of his life.

v. flirting 101

you couldn’t stop thinking about hanbin all weekend, how the two of you almost kissed if only jiwoong hadn’t interrupted you. when did you even start liking him? 

while you could’ve just texted him, you never found the right thing to send. what were you supposed to say to him? you thought about asking for advice from some of your teammates but eventually decided against it, knowing they wouldn’t have anything smart to say. you could almost hear chaeryeong’s teasing words just thinking about it. 

you had yet to find time to rehearse your duet together, as hanbin needed time to practice his solo. you had tried to talk to him multiple times, but snitched out last second each time, claiming that it was only because you couldn’t bother him at the moment. in reality, you felt nervous around him. you don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this way towards someone, let alone almost kissed someone.

you had stayed at the studio after practice to help momo with your team’s costumes for the competition. it seemed that you struggled with saying no when someone asks for your help. it was late again, the studio nearly empty, when you were finally ready to go home. walking towards the exit, you noticed one of the practice rooms was still in use. curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to take a look at who was still practicing at the late hour. in the room was hanbin, rehearsing alone again. 

hanbin was fully focused on the music, his body hitting every beat of the song. the way he moved was captivating to you, like he was putting some type of spell on you. it wasn’t that surprising that you fell for him so easily. you thought hanbin was the most beautiful when he was in his element, when he danced.

he was too concentrated to notice you at the door. as the song came to an end, he was completely out of breath. you couldn’t help but to clap, finally revealing yourself to the boy. the act made hanbin burst out of his own bubble, seeing you in the mirror first, giving you a tired smile before turning around. “that was amazing” you praised the boy as you fully stepped into the room.

“thank you” hanbin shyly responded, walking towards his stuff and taking a towel to wipe the sweat out of his face. you went up to him and offered him his water bottle. he smiled at you before speaking up again, “what are you still doing here this late?” his voice was filled with worry, but he was still glad to see you regardless.

“you should worry about yourself” you replied, your comment getting a small chuckle out of him. hanbin seemed tired, his eyes sleepy and hair all over the place. he must’ve had a lot of pressure on him, when so many people were counting on him to do well. you took a step closer to the boy, reaching up to fix his hair. “you’re doing great hanbin” you felt the need to reassure him, his face finally relaxing from your touch. after a while of playing with his hair, you lowered your hand to his cheek, wiping the last of sweat that was left. 

“i didn’t take you for a touchy person” hanbin said teasingly, making you quickly retreat your hand from his face. your cheeks started to warm up from embarrassment. was this how you acted when you liked someone? you made an attempt at hiding by turning your face away. the boy in front of you just giggled, mumbling about how cute you were being. 

“do you have time tomorrow? to practice our duet i mean” you asked, trying to change the subject. 

“hmm, let me think about that” hanbin pretended to think about your question for a while. “yes! but only on one condition” he said with a mischievous smile. his behaviour made you suspicious, you had yet to get used to hanbin’s playful side. hanbin took your confused face as a sign to continue, “when we win with our duet, i can take you on a date”

his straightfulness caught you off guard, but you couldn’t hold back the smile that broke into your face. knowing there were mutual feelings between the two of you gave you butterflies in your stomach. there was a hint of nervousness in hanbin, so you didn’t want to keep him waiting for an answer for too long. “if we win” you said, emphasising the word if.

“so it’s a date?” his wide smile matched yours. you nodded as confirmation, and before you knew it, hanbin quickly embraced you in his arms. you laughed how gross and sweaty he was, as he leaned back to look at you, with a pout on his lips.

“let’s go home then, i’ll drive you.”

vi. heartbreaks

your heart dropped the moment you saw yeji walk into the studio, her knee seemingly fine. everyone was shocked to see her going into jongin’s office. it was one week before the competition, and no one knew what yeji’s return could mean for the team. were jongin and momo going to let her dance? what could that mean for you and hanbin’s duet? you couldn’t hear their conversation where you were, and the suspense was killing you. 

deciding you could no longer sit around waiting, you went over to the office door to eavesdrop. “we finally got the formation to work for the full group! we can’t just go and change them all over again for you!” momo’s voice said, notably worked up by yeji’s sudden appearance. yeji kept on pleading for the two to let her come, as she didn’t want to miss the competition, “then at least let me do the rest!”

“i don’t think it’d be fair for the others, ryujin has worked hard on the solo” jongin tried to explain. 

“i already talked with everyone! ryujin, hanbin, they’re all okay with it!” yeji claimed. 

hearing hanbin’s name mentioned made you freeze on your spot. your insecurities were starting to creep in again, your mind filled up with questions. did hanbin rather do the duet yeji instead? when did they even talk about it together? it hadn’t even been twelve hours since you last saw him. 

maybe hanbin was relieved after hearing that yeji was okay. he had a much bigger chance to win with her than with you. maybe this whole time you’ve just been one big project to him, while he waited for yeji to get better.

you thought you were already over all this, being the second choice – but no, you weren’t even an option at this point. the past weeks have been the first time in years when you’ve felt great when you danced. you felt like you had finally improved, able to move on from your slump. you must’ve been just a joke to him, to everyone. tears were falling down your cheeks, your chest feeling too tight to breathe. 

“there you are y/n!” you heard a very familiar voice calling you, but you couldn’t even move to see him. hanbin sounded out of breath as he finally approached you. “i was looking for you, there’s something i need to tell you” he continued, putting his hand on your shoulder. his touch finally made you shift, as you moved out of the boy's touch, you saw his concerned face. you could only watch him for a second, before you knew you had to get out of there. 

“good luck with that duet” you said before taking your leave.

vii. making up and making …out?

since getting cut off from the duet, you've been avoiding hanbin like plague all week. he had tried to talk to you multiple times, but you ran off each time. you’ve tried to distract yourself by practicing on your own, and offering to help chaeryeong, matthew and jiwoong with their trio. it only helped you for awhile, because most times hanbin would show up and try to explain himself. you don’t know how many times you’ve told him to just focus on the competition instead of running after you.

you weren’t really mad at him, it wasn’t his fault that yeji came back. deep down you knew he probably had an explanation for everything, he wouldn’t have tried to talk to you otherwise. after calming down you could no longer blame yeji for losing your duet either, you would’ve likely done the same thing if you were her. she worked hard too, even to the point of injuring herself. you were mostly just mad at yourself, embarrassed how you’ve handled the whole thing, and letting your insecurities get the best of you again. 

it was the last day of competition, and you were sitting in the audience, as you didn’t have any dances left. there was a small break between the small group category and the solos. your team did well, however, you could tell something was off with hanbin as he danced. it wasn’t something the judges could notice, but you knew hanbin, and something was clearly off. you were worried, but you didn’t think it would be a good idea to talk to him right now, as he was somewhere probably getting ready for his solo. 

“hi, can i sit with you?” you were surprised to see yeji out here in the audience, let alone approaching you of all people. you nodded as a response, and she sat down next to you. there was an awkward silence between the two of you. you thought about what you should say to her, if you were even supposed to. both of you sat stiff, looking everywhere but each other. “shouldn’t you be getting ready for your solo?” you tried testing the waters.

“i’m not doing it” she replied, her hands gripping the corners of her chair, as she looked down to her legs. it quickly got quiet again, neither of you saying anything. you wondered if yeji’s knee wasn’t as fine as she made it seem or if something else was going on. yeji didn’t let you think for long as she finally spoke again, “i couldn’t take it away from ryujin…”

“but you could take it from me?” your words coming out of your mouth more harshly than you intended. regretting what you said, you shook your head, telling yeji to forget what you just said.

“no y/n, i should’ve asked you first, i’m sorry” she interrupted you. “i just- i was so excited to dance again… too excited even, i failed to notice that hanbin would’ve much rather danced with you. but you know him, he’s too nice to say anything” yeji explained, the last bit making you both chuckle. you were glad yeji apologised to you, even when you were never angry with her in the first place.

“do you really think that? that he would’ve rather danced with me?” you asked, wanting to believe what she said, you just needed some more reassurance. 

“obviously! i might not have been around when the two of you got closer but i’ve heard some stories from jiwoong and chaeryeong” she teased, nudging your shoulder. your cheeks blushed, as you figured yeji was referring to the night jiwoong had caught you two almost kissing at the studio. “i bet he’s already halfway through choreographing your duet for next season” she continued. yeji’s words made you feel shy and giddy, they gave you the sudden urge to see him, to talk to him.

“i think i should go find him” you stood up from your seat, looking around for the fastest route to your team’s dressing room. yeji gave you an encouraging push, telling you to hurry before he needs to go up on stage.

you ended up finding hanbin before you even got to the dressing room. you found him warming up close to the stage, already in his costume. he noticed you coming right away, giving you a small smile and a wave. saying your hello’s, you stopped awkwardly few steps away from him. “how are you feeling?” you asked carefully, not sure how he’d react to you suddenly showing up.

“i’m okay, just a little nervous” he answered quietly, continuing his stretching. you just stood there, awkwardly, not knowing what to say. you didn’t really plan ahead when you suddenly decided to find him. hanbin got up, now fully looking at you, but he didn’t say anything like you hoped he would. the two of you just stared at one another, neither knowing what to say. you could no longer bear the silence, so you finally spoke, “i’m sorry.”

“no, i’m sorry, i should’ve talked to you” hanbin took your hands to his, holding onto them like his life depended on it. his eyes were sorrowful, all this must have pained him the past week, and it was mostly your fault.

“i mean you tried to…” you reminded him, hoping that he would stop blaming himself. he let out an airy laugh, a smile finally breaking to his face. announcement could be heard in the background, telling everyone that the solo category would be starting in a few minutes, and you could see hanbin tense up. 

“you’re going to kill it, don’t worry” you reassured him, deciding to embrace the boy in a hug. he wrapped his arms around in a second, squeezing you tight. “you think so?” he mumbled next to your ear.

“hanbin, let’s go!” you could hear jongin yell from a distance. you took a look at hanbin, not quite ready to let go yet. “yes, and i’ll be right here watching” you said, with one more thing in your mind that you thought would help him. you looked around your surroundings, hoping that jongin wouldn’t be looking, before doing something you should’ve done weeks ago. you leaned in and kissed the boy, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

hanbin kissed you back after a moment of shock, and you could feel him smile against your lips. parting ways, the two of you now giggling like little kids. “I’ll be back” he let go of you, starting to walk towards jongin, who had an amused smile on his face. 

to put it simply, hanbin had never danced as well as he did then, and he was sure it was all thanks to you.

viii. lets dance

“are your eyes closed?” hanbin asked you for the fifth time, as he was moving you towards his surprise. it had been a few days since the competition, and today hanbin had been acting really suspicious. you were informed by matthew that you should stay at the studio after practice, and he left without telling you why. your questions were finally answered, when hanbin started dragging you out of the dressing room, putting his hands in front of your eyes. 

“yes, you’ve made sure of it” you answered, acting bothered by his antics. “okay okay, but no lurking!” he said excitingly, helping you to get over a higher threshold. you could tell you had entered one of the practice rooms, but you had no idea what hanbin had planned. you two stopped walking, and hanbin finally let you open your eyes, “you can open now!”

once you did open them, you wouldn't believe what laid in front your eyes. the entire room was decorated with fairy lights all over the room. the view was beautiful, and you were in complete awe. you never thought hanbin would do something like this. “hanbin…” you were completely speechless. 

“shh, that’s not all” he said, as a familiar song started playing from the speakers. you turned to hanbin as you recognized the song, it was the song for your duet. he smiled at you, offering you his hand. “dance with me”  he said quietly. you took his hand without hesitation, and he pulled you into the middle of the dance floor. you started dancing the choreography, the room filling up with laugh and giggles. 

dancing with hanbin just felt right. it made you feel at ease, moves coming easily to you as the two of you spinned around the dance floor. you never wanted this moment to end, that’s how much you were enjoying it. for a long time you haven’t enjoyed dance as much as you did right now, with hanbin. and suddenly it hit you – you loved dancing again. 

…and maybe you loved hanbin too.

- end

bonus:

“y/n, will you be my duet partner?”

“only if you’ll be my boyfriend as well”

“i like this deal”

[rosewaterandivy]

murder on the dancefloor

summary: eddie and princess see Saltburn

pairing: e.m. x film teacher!reader

warnings: cursing, tomfoolery, potential spoilers for the film (idk it’s vague), you can view the trailer here

a/n: consider this my ringing endorsement for any emerald fennell film - her brain is just 🤯

series m.list | playlist | currently spinning:

Eddie was positively buzzing.

Not even the little shits in Jazz 1 could ruin his day, not today.

You had scored tickets to a pre-screening of Saltburn followed by a Q & A with the director; it was only his most anticipated film of the year, no big deal. Never mind that you’d already seen it with your students at the film festival in October. Of course, your advanced classes loved it, the animation students, however, were wholly unprepared.

“What the fuck,” was the refrain of a few more sheltered students for the duration of the festival.

Sadly, ever since news of your relationship became public (no thanks to Harrington and his big mouth), Hopper put his foot down as far as Eddie’s chaperoning duties were concerned.

“Absolutely not Munson.”

“C’mon chief,” Eddie sighed in Hopper’s office, “I did the film festival trip last year and it was completely fine. Half the kids are in my classes anyway. Plus, I already did the transportation training and everything.”

Hopper stares at him blankly, “Congrats on doing the bare minimum.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “Look, I like having a qualified film teacher with real world experience, d’you know how difficult that is to find?”

Well, Eddie certainly can’t argue with that.

“And I assume you like her as well?”

“Obviously.”

“The fact of the matter is, you two weren’t an item last year but you are now.”

Eddie briefly hearkens back to last year, and, true, the pair of you weren’t exactly an item, but you definitely weren’t ascetics either. Not that Hopper needs to know that, of course.

“And you know how difficult it was with Harrington and Trouble.” He sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’d rather not live through that experience again, if I can help it. So, no dice.”

Eddie resigned himself to his fate: no chaperoning of film activities and the same went for you with jazz ensemble. (“Right,” you snorted at the news, “Like I’d ever be caught dead with those nerds.”)

But that was then and this is now.

So when Wheeler, the little shit, asks while putting up his instrument, “What’s got you in such a good mood today Mr. M.?” The last thing Eddie wants to do is respond.

“None’ya.”

The rest of the day unfolds in much the same way— too many bathroom passes for no goddamn reason, students asking him inane questions instead of listening to directions, and the Hellfire kids getting on his last nerve.

“And then, after this campaign—” Dustin rambles on while Eddie suffers through afternoon bus duty. He’s got his sunglasses on in an attempt to block the late autumn sun, kids are hanging out of bus windows to wave at their friends and he really wishes the bus drivers would lurch forward, just a little, purely to keep things interesting.

Besides, it’s not like most of the kids couldn’t do with a good knock to the head.

Anyway, he’s essentially ignoring Dustin at this point, besides he can critique the finer details of his campaign later. He’s been glued to Eddie’s side since the final bell, and Eddie’s been counting down the minutes to 4:30 so he can get the hell out of dodge.

princess 👸: hey stud, how’s it going?

wild thing 😜: eh, the usual.

princess 👸: you’ve been quiet in the chat today.

wild thing 😜: kids were annoying today. plus i can see trouble and steve argue back at home.

princess 👸: lucky you, i wouldn’t know anything about that - we were watching quality cinema.

wild thing 😜: bladerunner?

princess 👸: uh, doi. meet you at the theater, say 6:30 ish?

wild thing 😜: it’s a date.

He opens up the group chat to see what he missed— mostly memes from Steve, Trouble arguing the finer points of a prank with Robin (it can’t be either a feather in their shoe or hitting them with a ski, bucks. there’s an art to it, a happy medium if you will.), and Nancy telling everyone to get back to work and stop bothering her.

The last bus finally pulls away from the school, bringing an end to his afternoon duty. Pocketing his phone, he claps Dustin on the shoulder and the teen halts his rambling. “Sounds good kid, but I gotta bounce.”

“Why, you gotta hot date or something?”

Eddie huffs a laugh, “Sure, let’s go with that.”

The theater is positively packed.

You met him at the bar, already having ordered his preferred stout and a drink for yourself. It had been a hectic few weeks, what with your film festival trip and the jazz competitions on the weekends, Eddie hadn’t had the opportunity to see you outside of work.

But your outfit more than made up for it, you looked down right delectable. Those ripped jeans that he adored because if he sat to your right, he could easily slip his hand through the tear at your thigh, a cropped ‘Directed by Stanley Kubrick’ shirt, and your usual black docs. Leaning against the bar to chat with the bartender, you didn’t even notice him approach until Eddie’s hand wrapped around your hip.

“Hey now,” He says with a smile, rings cool against the bit of skin above the rise of your jeans.

Smiling and ducking your chin bashfully you take a sip from your drink, “Hey now.” Your free hand finds his, tangling your finger together, “Got your usual,” you nod toward the drink on the bartop.

“Thanks, doll,” He drags you closer by the belt loops, “How’s the arm?”

You glance toward your left arm, turning it to brandish your newest acquisition. An addition to your horror sleeve, Ada from Lamb, complete with her coat and flowercrown, looking damn adorable. You’d justified it as being worthy as an example of folk-horror and had sat for the tattoo after your return from the film festival.

“Eh, still healing at the elbow crease, but other than that she’s good.”

He nods taking a sip from his beer. “She looks it.”

Making idle conversation until the theater opens up, you fill him in on the goings on of the film students: Reese was out sick again (“Another kidney stone. I swear to god, that girl needs to drink some actual water instead of those shitty energy drinks.”), practicum had somehow lost their footage for their competition film (“Not my problem, they know better by now.”), and team-building with Minecraft.

Eventually, you drift toward the theater and take your seats. You’re quick to shuck the flannel you’d been sporting around your waist, “You left this at mine, by the way.”

“Is that so?”

“You sly fuck,” you chuckle, setting it in your lap, “You think you’re really somethin’, huh?”

“Uh, I don’t think so, I know so sweetheart.”

“Right, right,” you play along, “When will the government stop you? No one man should have all this power.” You gesture vaguely to his, well, everything.

The lights dim in the theater and the audience falls to a hush. Eddie holds your hand across the armrest, your fingers playing with his rings every so often. You’d been characteristically mum about Saltburn, other than saying he’d love it because “you’re a freak like me, just go with it.” Had even roped the kids into stonewalling him too, even El and Will would not crack for love or money.

To be fair, you had seen some fucked up shit in your time— Salo, Audition, anything Cronenberg, Cannibal Holocaust, and then you’d accidentally saw that snuff film one time and needed a full 24 hours to recover from the shame of it all. You’re generally one of the few able to give him a run for his money, though his movie tastes tended to gravitate toward horror and cult classics. The common ground between you was Stanley Kubrick’s work, the final nail in the coffin being the Christmas Eve showing of Eyes Wide Shut you’d invited him to, promptly fucking his brains out afteward.

Considering that the preshow offerings ranged from 2006 Britpop music videos played in between previews from Remains of the Day, The Servant, Parasite, and Cruel Intentions, he was thinking this weekend would play out similarly to that night. And he did not mind one bit.

“So,” you coyly ask afterward, pinkie looped through his as you walk out of the theater, “Tell me your thoughts Munson,” a tantalizing bite to your full bottom lip, “Are you more of a bathtub drain, vampire, or grave dirt kind of guy?”

“That is so out of pocket, babe,” He laughs, slinging an arm over your shoulder, “Because you,” he thumbs at your nose, “Already know the answer to that.”

You hum contendly, unclipping the keys from your beltloop. “So, all of the above then? Good choice.”

“Yeah? I thought so.” He pulls you close for a kiss, crashing his lips over yours, sliding his tongue— sweet and heavy with promise into the space of your mouth. Everything is hot, burning like coals against his skin. Your breath, lips, chest, and legs pressed so temptingly against him— even the little pads of your fingertips scorch right through him.

Eddie hisses when your nails dig into his back, scratching down until you reach the sliver of skin at the base of his spine, fingers trailing against the juts of bone there.

He gasps when you pull back with a dreamy sigh, and you look up at him in a daze. “So, you have competitions this weekend?” you ask, tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“Unfortunately,” Eddie says with a wince. “Can’t give you the whole tour of pound town tonight, darlin’, we leave early tomorrow moring.”

“Ugh,” your head falls to his chest as your arms wrap around his waist giving a tight squeeze, “Well, in that case, be safe.”

“Be good.”

“Ha,” you say stepping back, “Miss me with that bullshit.”

Eddie laughs, “Yeah, in my fuckin’ dreams, right? You’re a disaster.”

At that, you merely stick out your tongue and cross your eyes before slipping into your car. You wave before pulling out of the parking lot.

Later, back at the loft, Eddie texts you already knowing you’re more than likely already asleep.

wild thing 😜: i’d gladly guzzle your bathwater any day babe, ay yo lemme slurp that good good

princess 👸: says the guy so far up my ass, he’s coming out of my mouth…

wild thing 😜: not quite sweetheart, but that can def be arranged

princess 👸: you’re a fucking idiot, go to bed assclown 😘

[simp999]

A New Home Ch. 33

Various! Splatoon Manga x Skilled! Isekai'd! Reader

Wc: 1k

Milo playlist!

Back to the Start! Previous Next

The night went by quick, your family enjoying the time off you're allowing them to have. Of course you're still enforcing a healthy diet along with regular stretch sessions, but that's the bare minimum at your rank.

The following morning, you found yourself sitting infront of a simple meal- very unlike Milo before a battle so important. WIth his pastel green apron on, he slightly turns to face everyone at the table;

"Sorry guys, I need to do a grocery run."

He opens up the last carton of juice just for Leo, placing it in front of him. While he's beside you, you ask Milo if he'd like it if you joined him to do groceries. He offers a warm smile, mixed with pleasant surprise.

"Of course! We'll leave right after I'm done eating, sound okay?"

You nod, knowing that allows you some time to get dressed and whatnot because he still hasn't sat down to eat.

Before long, you're both standing at the front door, right on time. Very different from how it usually is compared to when Leo tags along.

You adjust your shoes one last time before waving at Leo and Tasha- the both of them preoccupied by their usual activities: Tasha cleansing her weapon and Leo with his eye glued to the TV. Milo sighs and loudly proclaims a goodbye, gaining their attention and telling them to take care, telling Leo he set out some snacks for him.

You always knew how protective he was, but it seemed so absentminded sometimes. He stood behind you nearly the whole train ride, and you could've sworn his smile turned into a slight frown when he saw some guy staring at you a bit too long. He caught you gently when the train stopped a bit too hard, arriving at your destination. A short walk later had you through the doors, Milo grabbing a cart. Money was no longer really an issue these days thanks to your rank, but he still shopped as if he didn't have lots, getting lots of non-name brand stuff. When you finally built up the courage to ask, he said that his mum taught him lots of ways to bake and cook, and the non-name brand stuff was just as good for it.

Not too long in, you ran into some fans. You slightly stood behind him, feeling a little embarrassed being spotted by actual fans in public, but Milo took care of the situation perfectly. He even offered them a hug! One was a sweet little girl, and another, an older boy who was more distant. The brother- you assumed- seemed to be happy for his sister, asking if he could get something signed for her for when she got older. Maybe it was actually for him- that wasn't for you to assume.

You stifled a slightly annoyed laugh noticing how he roamed the aisles exactly like a mother would. Very slow steps, leaning down on the cart often. You trailed beside, pointing at stuff here and there. Every once in a while he'd ask for your opinion between a few things, and you'd remind him that there are no issues getting both.

"Okay, yes- but Leo's gonna go through these packs of gummies in seconds. He doesn't need two boxes."

You shrug and nod- okay, that one's fair. ... Maybe you just wanted some too.

Shopping with him did have some positives despite the sore feet after standing for so long, allowing you to get your favorite cookies and him "treating" you to a plushie. (You could have gotten it yourself, but it just felt more special when he got it for you.)

Then, you pointed to some strawberry mochi. You remember Tasha enjoying traditionally Japanese snacks and foods, so you figured she might like them. Milo's eyes widened a bit and his gaze softened when he quickly nabbed the box. Under his breath he whispered;

"My sister used to love these."

"Used to?" Your question slipped out completely on accident.

He softly nodded. He was quiet for a bit with a warm look on his face, but you noticed the slight furrow in his brow. Of course you wouldn't force it, but you were open to listening.

After a while, you felt the need to apologise. He's usually really talkative, but it seems he was completely lost in thought. He slightly jumps up, and waves his hand dismissively.

"No, no! It's okay- I just-, she was a very sweet individual. I miss her a lot."

"Is she still at home?"

"...No. She's passed to somewhere nicer now."

Oh. OH carp now you really felt bad. How did you not get the hint?! You assumed Milo moved from his home to here and had to leave his sister at home, but duh- of course it wasn't that.

You held your breath, feeling very awkward about bringing it up.

"It's okay, Boss. Really."

"She was younger than me by 8 years. I know, I know- don't think ill of mum though, okay? She was just doing her best, and I was very glad for both of them. Mum's still around, I talk to her every few days. She taught me everything. And my sister, Luna, I loved her so very much."

The two of you went through the checkout together, you helping him put the groceries on the conveyor belt in order. He carried most of the bags himself.

The two of you made it to the train without issues, besides him grabbing another bag from your hands and you barely noticing until it was too late. He teasingly stuck a tongue out, claiming it was good for "strength training". Yeah right.

Once you were walking back home from the train, he finally spoke up again.

"She was... well, believe it or not, I was small and weak at one point in time."

"I wasn't able to protect her."

.

.

.

Mar. 9. 24

Next part

[keis-slut]

Sex In The Pizzaplex

fnaf

chapter o. - Utah

As I carry the last box through the front door,

I feel a cramp in my lower back, now giving out as it aches to my hips.

"fuck, son of a bitch-!" I yell, tripping over my own foot, dropping the box to catch myself before i'd fall.

"jesus christ-" I sigh.

Thankful it wasn't the fragile box, I scoff as I try to pick it up again, feeling the pain in my back radiate once more. I sigh in frustration, kicking the box, pushing it with my foot to where I meant to put it.

"i'll get the rest tomorrow. I don't need pots and pans right now" I mumble to myself, turning and walking around the island in my kitchen to the counter my phone was placed on. My black phone lit up my lockscreen on top of the white marble countertop, and I unlock it as I pick it up in my hand.

Deciding on wanting some pizza for tonight, I open my maps app and search for the closest restaurant.

I had no idea what Hurricane was like, or what was around, not knowing much about Utah in general anyway. All I know is I chose this place to get far away from anything and everything else.

As well as budget, the cool name, "Hurricane", and being closer to Vegas...but that's besides the point.

I do what I want now.

I don't want to be associated with them no more.

Staring at my screen, I scoff as the first, and pretty much only, location for pizza close enough pops up on my phone.

"I guess pizza can't get anymore mega pizzaplex than this place" I comment, examining the screen.

Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex.

4.5 ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆.

restaurant,entertainment - open, closes at 11pm.

call ✆ | directions ➤ | share ᥫ | website ↻ |

Clicking on the directions, it said to be no more than 20 minutes away, but it closes at 11. Frantically looking at the clock, I run over to my shoes and put them on as fast as I could.

"I should leave now if I want some pizza. of course they don't deliver though" I complain, slipping my second shoe on. I stand up and grab my sweatshirt from on top of the island, feeling for my keys in the pocket. Once I find them, I step towards the door and open it, stepping out and slipping my phone in my other pocket as I shut the door behind me, turning the knob to make sure it had locked as well.

Jogging over to my car, I hop in and start the engine, radio unexpectedly blasting causing me to jump.

"fucking christ!" I react, bringing my hand up to turn it down. I must've forgotten to turn it off.

I sigh heavily and bring my hand to my face, rubbing my eyes and down my cheeks.

"it's been a long day..."

I reverse out of my new driveway, the low tune on the radio shifting into focus as I drive off.

I didn't care much for what was on the radio. I had me and my trusty playlists of music. There was a mix of everything, anything that sounded good to me, I kept it. Whatever was trending would never really click for me. Those songs were made for everyone to like, and i'm not everyone.

You know what I mean?

And when you find the artists that are really passionate about what they make, that's when the music is good.

Drowning in the sound of my music (I had to change the radio), and of course following the GPS directions to the location, I finally arrived at the Pizzaplex.

Putting my signal on, I turn into the practically dead parking lot, and give a good look at this place. It was very big. Almost like a mall.

A few cars were still parked at the front of the building. A blue minivan and what looked to be a white Acura, an older model.

Pulling in to park just a few spots away, I notice a girl, just about my age, sitting in the drivers seat of the white car.

She was in a button up white shirt and had some kind of badge on the left of it. Assuming she worked here, I wanted to ask how to get around this place. it looked confusing, so it wouldn't hurt to ask.

I look over at her again as I shut my car off, and notice she's looking over at me too. I felt my stomach turn out of embarrassment, and I look away. Even though my windows were slightly tinted and it's more than likely she didn't see me staring at her, my cheeks still grew warm.

As I fix my hair and get out of my car, I hear a car door slam and footsteps heading towards me.  I shut my door and turn around, placing the keys in my sweater pocket. I face her as she steps closer, hair falling off her shoulders.

"havent seen you around here before" She spoke, her bold green eyes scanning my frame as she stopped next to my car, hands placed on her hips.

Her voice was like butter, so smooth and pretty, yet still a hint of superiority leaked from it as well.

It came off very attractive, nonetheless, and so was she, finally getting a good look at her.

As she stood before me, she pulled a hairband from her wrist, bringing her hands to pull her long, straight, blonde hair back into a ponytail.

"yeah, I just moved here, actually, so that would make sense" I respond lightly, placing my hands in my pockets.

"I see. well then, welcome" She smiles kindly, the lamppost above us definitely doing justice to her glossy plumped lips and the freckles that scattered her cheeks.

"thank you, I appreciate it" I laugh, and she does too as she finishes styling her hair.

She was very pretty.

"you do know the Pizzaplex closes in like fifteen minutes though, right?" She mentions, shifting her weight on her feet.

"does that include the kitchen as well?" I ask, stepping closer to her, hoping that she says it's still open.

"yeah. the kitchen closes at the same time as anything else. but I assume you don't know your way around this place, do you?" She responds, crossing her arms and sending me an almost condescending smirk.

"I don't. are you offering to be my escort?" I retort, walking around her and my car, and she follows.

"maybe. where you headed?" She asks, walking with me on the path to what I assumed was the entrance.

"just here to get some pizza is all. long day of driving, i'd like to treat myself" I admit, and she hums in acknowledgment.

"well, the pizza here never fails, i'll tell you that" She says, walking in front of me, and I follow her.

She opens the door for me and I stride right behind her, only to be almost halted completely in my tracks at the sight of this place.

it looked even bigger on the inside. So many different corridors and rooms, offices, stairs, lights and decorations. It was amazing and extremely welcoming, maybe even a little overwhelming, but nonetheless beautiful. It also smelled like whoever cleaned this place used a bit too much lavender Pine-Sol, but it being such a nostalgic scent, I didn't mind.

After picking my mouth up off the floor, I continue to follow as she leads me towards the stairs, and into an elevator up to the third floor.

"upstairs in Mazercise is where they serve pizza" She mentions, elevator dinging at our stop.

"Mazercise? that's a funny name. sounds like exercise, yet they're serving pizza" I laugh to myself, and she hums.

"yeah, doesn't make too much sense. it's where you can 'work off the calories while you eat'" She quotes with a laugh, leading me over to the entrance.

"sounds like my kinda place" I say with a smile, pulling open the door for her. We walk in and i'm suddenly greeted by a robot taking orders.

Odd, but I like it.

"hey, so, if I get a whole pie I won't be able to finish it myself. would you maybe want to come back to my place or something?" I ask, and she faces me in surprise. My heart beats against my chest as she stares at me for a few long uncomfortable seconds, until she smirks.

"what if you're a serial killer?" She teases and I roll my eyes.

"your loss" I laugh, ordering my food.

She sighs and looks at me.

"I would, really. you seem cool, but I have work tonight" She says, and my eyes instantly dart to the badge I didn't bother to read when I first saw her, even though I noticed it. I was too caught up in how attractive she was, I completely missed processing that she was in a uniform.

"I work as security here. I have the night shift " She adds, and I nod.

"oh, I see, okay. surprising though, they seem to have enough robots" I say with a laugh, and she laughs with me.

"tell me about it. but, I needed a job, and they were hiring. good money, anyway" She says shrugging.

I think curiously for a moment as she says this.

"do you think they're still hiring? do they need more people?" I ask, placing my hands on my hips.

She looks up and thinks for a moment.

"I need a job here sooner or later" I add.

One of the staff bots comes over to us, a box of pizza in hand. It hands me the box before pivoting, and rolling away.

I guess they remember faces instead of taking names. Very advanced.

I sigh and face her again, not wanting to be rude with my mind wandering elsewhere.

"I could find out for you. tell them I met a friend who's looking for a job" She smiles, starting to walk past me and out of Mazercise.

"oh, thank you so much!" I say, following her as she holds the door for me.

"doing you a favor, you owe me" She jokes, stopping for a moment.

"maybe when you aren't working, i'll treat you to pizza another time" I say with a laugh, and she sighs, thinking.

"eh, i'd rather a drink" She laughs, and I shrug in agreement.

"or that too, of course, yes" I say.

"are you asking me out?" She teases, placing her hands on her hips and leaning towards me.

My cheeks grow warm as I grin right back.

"are you saying no?" I retort, and she hums.

Standing up straight, she places out her hand and gestures for me to give her something. She eyeballs my hand, so I place it in hers. Pulling out a pen from her back pocket, she starts writing a number on my hand.

"text me when you're back home. that way, I have your number too. and i'll let you know about that job" She stops writing, and puts the pen away, feeling her squeeze my hand slightly before letting go.

I smile at her and nod.

"I will" I say, placing my hand on the pizza box.

"well, I start work very soon and you should not be in the building right now. security is gonna come and kick you out" She jokes, winking at me as I roll my eyes and turn to leave.

"I'm leaving, i'm leaving" I say, before turning and starting to walk away towards the elevator.

"oh!" I say, turning back around quickly to see her still standing there, thankfully.

"I never got your name" I say, and she smirks at me.

"that's because I didn't give it to you" She jokes, and I scoff, shifting my weight on my legs as I wait for a response.

She chuckles, "Vanessa"

"i'm y/n. it was nice to meet you, Vanessa. thank you again" I say, turning to head back to the elevator.

I press the button as the doors quickly open, and I step inside. Grateful and excited I had made my first friend, and an attractive one at that, I couldn't get my mind off her.

But, I must've been too distracted, as the doors open to an unfamiliar place. I step out and look around, hoping maybe i'd recognize it a bit.

But, I didn't.

I kept walking forward, towards an entrance that was closed off, but the door had lifted to let me through anyway.

This new room played an upbeat, catchy tune over the speakers, and there were giant rooms to my left all in a row, each with led light up mascot faces above them, their names corresponding. I raise an eyebrow and walk forward, curious as to where I was. It was almost like a museum type of place, with display cases holding objects, and statues of the mascots, each one placed in front of their respective rooms. Walking forward, the first statue in front of me was what appeared to be an animatronic bear, singing into a microphone.

This bear, his name. It was so familiar.

I place down the box of pizza I was still holding, and walk backwards to get a good look at him.

Freddy Fazbear.

Finally, it had clicked. The name.

My family use to talk about it all the time, how they knew of who initially created the establishments.

Up until now there have been many, and i've never been to any, but I'm not unfamiliar.

Surprised it had taken so long to put the pieces together.

Was I that hungry?

Suddenly, I hear loud crashing and banging coming from the other side of the room, startling me.

I leave my pizza where it is and decide to check it out. I dart down the room to where the noise was coming from, it was so loud I couldn't miss it, but on the glass read warnings.

"OFF LIMITS"

I raise an eyebrow and look up, catching what room this was associated with.

Montgomery Gator.

This name didn't ring a bell, but looking next to this room was Glamrock Chica. And Chicas name I recognized.

But what was making so much noise in this room?

Were the mascots in these rooms?

Looking over at Chicas hot pink room, I tuned into new noises. These noises more pleasant than the ruckus in the Gators room. It was guitar, electric guitar. Someone was playing. Or something.

I curiously walk over to look, noticing these curtains were open, so I could look in this room.

I peek in and I see Chica, utterly shredding guitar.

I smile wide in surprise, and quickly move away from the glass, not wanting her to see me right now. If she even could, or if playing the guitar was just coded in for after hours. I decide to walk back down the row, heading to the other room next to the Gators.

Roxanne Wolf.

I sneak over to the glass, and peek in slowly, seeing another animatronic staring into her vanity, brushing at her hair.

All of these animatronics were doing something different, but could it all be coded in as default modes for after closing?

It could be that, right? That's what would make sense.

They don't know i'm here and they can't be aware of that.

To be safe anyway, I duck and run past Roxanne's room, hoping for the best. I ran by before, and I could do it again.

I was relieved I got past her room quick enough, and in such great triumph, that I hadn't noticed I was standing right in plain sight behind the glass of Freddy's room, locking eyes with the tall animatronic.

My stomach dropped to my feet as I swallowed the lump in my throat, growing nervous.

But he tilted his head to the side, sending me a friendly wave.

I breathe out, not realizing I had been holding my breath, terrified.

I felt as if I shouldn't be afraid, and his stride closer to the glass should've frightened me,

but it didnt.

His demeanor made me feel safe, oddly enough, and I felt a tug on the corner on my mouth as I smile up at the large animatronic.

Our moment was disrupted by a loud clattering sound, familiar to the sound of the door that had lifted letting me in. I turn to look, and I see a familiar face, partnered with those piercing green eyes.

"y/n!" Vanessa echoes, walking towards me.

"oh, Vanessa! i'm glad to see you. how'd you know i'd be here?" I ask her as she approached me.

"I never got a text from you, and on duty I noticed your car was still here. After a while, I came looking" She said, crossing her arms.

"i'm sorry, I got lost" I laugh.

"trying to get me in trouble the first day we meet, huh, I see how it is" She jokes, grabbing my hand and leading me out of the room.

"wait, my pizza is on the floor" I say, pulling away from her grip gently and turning around to pick up my box.

"oh, come on, it's probably cold by now. heat up a hot pocket or something when you get home" She says as I bend down and grab the box. As I stand back up, I look forwards and make eye contact with Freddy once more. I could genuinely feel him acknowledging my presence, knowing there had to be so much more to these animatronics than just wires and coding.

"excuse me, miss, you're gonna get me in trouble" She says in a funny voice, but with a hint of actually hurrying me to leave. I laugh at her humor, and turn to leave.

She leads me to the front of the building, and we now say goodbye for the second time. I open the door and start walking out.

"so, what do you think of them?" She asks before I close the door behind me, and I know exactly what she's talking about.

I turn to face her and smile, before responding,

"I like them. a lot"

then waving goodbye.

[abronzeagegod]

Untitled YA Novel Chapter 18: Secret Spy Plane to Secret Submarine Base

First Chapter || More

06:19 AM local time

Untouched Horizons, House Dinchdrast, Si Yátz

The group was awoken early in the morning. But it was easy to wake the usually reluctant teens. From the second the knock on Hira's door alerted them, the tension was slowly building in the air around them. It was impossible for them to even attempt to continue to sleep.

Mike eased his nervousness with playing music and making playlists to let out the nervous energy by tapping his foot.

Hira spend her energy going over all the equipment that they got from Untouched Horizons. She selected a baton and a stunner. And a couple of devices that were flashbang like stunning grenades.

Justin found the armor lockers and inside there were several hoods. He assumed it was something that could filter out smoke, if they had to use another smoke bomb it would be helpful to have, especially for Hira.

The rest of the time Justin spent reading the active ingredients on the toys he picked up. He kept his stunner and grabbed as many flashbangs and smoke bombs as he could reasonably carry. Mike caught him reading and looking up various ingredients from the list because of course he was. That made Mike smile to himself. Justin was a nerd but that was exactly what he needed sometimes.

"What's the plan?" Mike asked.

"Why don't you have a plan?" Justin teased.

"My plan is to keep you two safe and hit anyone who tries to stop us. But planning is not my strong suit. Besides, I don't want to be mean to Hira, I have no idea what your friend looks like."

"Why would that be mean?" Hira asked back, confused.

"I think it's because he doesn't want to sound like he thinks all zlilfians look alike," Justin clarified.

"Ah, I see," Hira responded. "That would not be offensive to me. We are of different species, our brains are not designed to see the minute differences and details in the other."

Then there was a lengthy pause.

"Would you like a description of Rafe so that you may recognize her?" Hira offered. "She is taller than me by a few inches, which is tall for a shrar. Her coloring is almost ideal, perfectly symmetrical alternating lines of gold and black, except for the slightly crooked line of black across her eyes. Rafe has a strong build to her, she's beat me in almost every hand-to-hand sparring match we've ever had."

Justin smiled at her and was biting down a laugh.

"Sounds like someone has a crush," Mike said.

"This word before in human media has come up but I don't understand it," Hira responded. "What does that mean?"

"He's saying you like Rafe," Justin explained but badly.

"Of course I do. She is my friend. My only true friend," Hira said, not understanding the line of conversation or why she should be embarrassed by this.

"I meant, in like, a romantic sense," Mike clarified.

"Oh. I see," Hira said finally catching on. "Zlilfians have much different connotations to these kinds of relationships than humans do."

"How's that work?" Justin asked.

"Well the romantic aspect you speak of, that much is true. Zlilfians have friends and close friends, and then typically one or two people that you wish to spend all of your time with, which is what I think you mean with your romance. We call this person our tràrks."

"Yes! That one!" Mike said as he sat up a bit straighter and pointed at Hira. "You want to spend all your time with her and kiss her and stuff."

Hira was actively trying to keep the embarrassment from spreading through her wings now that they were all on the same page. "Yes. Why wouldn't I? Rafe is an excellent zlilfian and shrar and better than me, and pretty."

"We'll get your girlfriend, tràrks, back," Mike said with a teasing smile.

The embarrassment was all over Hira and even the boys could tell. "Oh no! I don't want to have children with Rafe. I mean I don't know how it works with humans but we can't. We're in the same House and that's not something they want to happen and there's breeding rights with other houses and -"

"Ok! Ok! We don't need to have this lesson," Mike yelled to interrupt her ramble.

"This an embarrassing topic, but having children isn't something I want for a long time and -" Hira continued, seemingly oblivious to Mike's protests.

"Ah! We get it! I'll stop teasing you!" Mike said as he tried to cover his ears.

Justin saw one of Hira's antennae twitch, in what he assumed was the equivalent of a zlilfian trying to not laugh at her own joke.

"I think he's had enough," Justin said and Hira stopped her counter teasing offensive.

"He is not incorrect though," Hira commented quietly. "Rafe is very important to me. I feel like I owe her a great deal, and her company is something I greatly enjoy."

"Does she know that?"

"I don't know."

"I know that there's always a big song and dance with humans and telling someone you like them like that, but this whole situation is a lot. I think what helped my dad come out of it was talking about how we both were hurt by my mom. You should try talking to Rafe about how you feel, it might help her out."

Hira nodded. "It is something that has been on my mind a lot. What if she doesn't feel the same? What if her reaction is negative to me?"

"You're doing so much for her and if she's half the zlilfian you think she is, I'm sure she'll see you as someone absolutely great."

"Thank you."

Mike uncovered his ears. "You done?"

Justin rolled his eyes but smiled at his best friend. "I do have half a plan," he said. "And it's only half because like Mike said, I don't really know Rafe well enough to track her down. But I've been studying submarine schematics and I've got some devices that I think can help." He held up his smoke bombs and flashbangs.

"Did you also grab some cans of spraypaint?" Mike asked.

"Yeah I did. I think the best way to do this is to get Rafe and try and stop Frost from taking a submarine. He's just one guy. But he's also the big Silence guy so, I assume it's going to be much harder than we think. That's why I've got a plan B."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Mike said.

"You know how good I am at breaking things," Justin replied. "This should be a cake walk. Just so long as you two don't get caught or beaten up or Silenced or something. So you two have to watch out for each other."

"This may be a good time to mention that I do not swim. That is to say that I can," Hira mentioned. "But water and zlilfians do not get along very well. Getting wet makes it very hard to fly and our wings, when they get wet, are basically dead weight and it feels terrible."

"So try to keep Hira out of the water," Mike responded. "Good to know."

i have a kofi

find me on pillowfort

[alittlebitofeverythingtbh]

Late Night Visit

Corey Cunningham x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, some blood play

Authors Note: Sometimes I think I’m hitting a writers block, and then I get a great idea. Also I know I need a masterlist, and I’ll try to get on that soon!

You were sitting on your couch, surfing through your phone as Spotify played on a little speaker you had. It was one of the various playlists you and Corey had put together of your various favorite songs, and was probably around 40 hours long at this point. Most of them were yours funny enough. Corey had given you some shit about it, cracking a smile and saying “damn baby, you gonna add every song ever to this playlist?” That earned him a slap in the arm.

You were reading an article when you heard the door swing open loudly, hitting the wall. You let out a panicked scream for a moment and jumped up, shocked at the appearance of a masked and very bloody man. Very bloody didn’t even describe his outfit. It was pretty much soaked in blood, and you could hear some drip onto the floor. It adorned the scarecrow mask he wore as well as the knife he held. Corey had been wearing his mask whenever he couldn’t get Michael to cough up his. You assumed whatever fight he had picked with the old man didn’t end well for him.

“For fucks sake Core, you scared me to death,” you nearly scolded. You got up and went to him, sighing at the blood on your floor now. “Rough night?” you asked as you neared him. Corey didn’t say anything, but you could hear him breathing somewhat heavily behind the mask. Concerned, you reached out and pushed the mask aside, touching his cheek. A bloodied hand shot up and gripped your wrist, staining it red. But he didn’t do anything, just held onto it.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. You heard him mumble something, but couldn’t make out the words. You asked him to repeat himself, and this time you heard him say, “I need you.” “Corey, shouldn’t you clean-“ you started, but he was already shoving a hand into your pants. You let out a surprised yelp, squirming when you felt something wet that definitely didn’t come from you. Is he seriously gonna finger me with bloody hands? you wondered to yourself. Yes, yes he was.

The blood acted as a sick sort of lube, helping him slip a finger in easily. You heard his breath quicken behind the mask as he worked you open. Soon, he pushed in a second blood coated finger, and you shivered under his touch. Corey curled his fingers inside you, just the way you liked. You gripped at his bloody clothes, whimpering into his chest. You heard what sounded like a groan from behind the mask, but he was still quiet besides that.

You were about to ask why he was so quiet when he thrust in a third finger, and you nearly stumbled over. His fingers kept up his relentless pace, and you already felt close. Corey’s thumb brushed up against your clit, and it nearly sent you over the edge. A few more circles around it, and you were coming undone on his fingers with a sob of his name. Your boyfriend waited for you to catch your breath before he brought his fingers up to his mouth behind the mask, sucking them clean of your cum and the blood. Corey then used his other hand to grab yours, leading you to the couch.

With a small “sorry,” he nearly pushed you over the side of the couch. He nearly ripped down your pants and underwear before unzipping his mechanic suit. Corey pulled his cock out, giving it a few pumps in his hand before guiding it against your thighs. You felt him reach up and finally take off his mask before he leaned over you, his lips ghosting over your ear. Corey slid into you, and you could feel the smile on his face as you whined.

“So good for me,” he whispered as he began to thrust into you, “taking me so well.” You could barely move under his grip, so you simply laid there and let out every little sound that he dragged out of you. Corey’s soft little pants and groans in your ear drove you insane as well. You felt one of his hands at your hip, the other snaking around to you grab gently at your throat. You smirked a bit as an evil idea came into your mind, “what? Is that all you got?” The growl in your ear made you shiver a bit, and you felt his hand tighten enough that you let out a squeak. “What was that?” he asked quietly, “did you wanna say something?” You could only whine in response. “That’s what I thought,” he growled, giving you a particularly hard thrust.

You could only lay there and take him, whining pathetically as he used you. You were so cock drunken that you had forgotten your boyfriend was covered in blood, which meant that both you and the couch were now too. All you could focus on was how good he felt in you, how he was just…using you. Corey always put your pleasure first and foremost, so tonight felt different. Whatever had happened tonight worked him up so bad he needed release, in more ways than one.

You clenched around him, shocking him enough that he let out a whimper. “Fuck,” you heard him mumble as his hips stuttered, “do that again.” You did and were met with a moan of your name, Corey’s pace only growing as he became more desperate. This in turn got you closer to pushing over that edge you had been teetering on. “Core,” you whined, “please.” He groaned in your ear, feeling you tighten around him again, “you need to cum, baby? You need help?” You nodded, and his hand left your hip to rub your clit clumsily and awkwardly. It was a miracle he could at all in this position, but it still made you cum hard regardless. You gripped the couch cushions as you moaned Corey’s name, which in turn nearly pushed him over the edge.

“So good for me,” he praised, “you’re such a good girl. Go-gonna take such good care of you, I-I promise. You deserve it.” You knew he was close when he stuttered, “that’s it Corey, cum in me.” You didn’t need to tell him twice. Your boyfriend spilled in you, thrusting harshly and causing you to feel overstimulated. He practically clung to you coming down from his high, panting softly and whispering more praise. After a moment, he got off of you and helped you up, wincing at the mess on the couch. “I’ll take care of it, don’t you worry,” he said, and all you could do was shake your head with a tired smile.

Your poor couch. Even in a darker color, the few blood stains were very apparent. You turned and looked behind you to see blood all over your shirt. “The shirt too,” you told Corey, who looked tired himself, “but leave that for tomorrow. It’s late.” You were dragged into the kitchen as your boyfriend got the two of you a class of water. You joined him at the table, “what happened tonight, Corey?” He looked over at you, his big brown eyes looking almost sad, “got jumped yesterday. Took it out on the guy tonight.” You nodded, which you found almost funny. Here your boyfriend was, telling you he killed someone. And you weren’t surprised or upset.

“Well, maybe he shouldn’t jump you. That’s my job,” you joked. This cracked a smile on Corey’s face, and he let out a small chuckle. “You really are amazing, you know?” he asked, “I’m so lucky to call you mine.” You smiled as you felt your face heat up into a blush, “well, I think you’re more amazing.” He shook his head, “impossible.” You grinned and sipped your glass of water, “I beg to differ, Core.” “Beg to differ all you want,” he snorted, “you’re still the most amazing person in the whole world.”

Once the two of you were hydrated, Corey went to grab a change of clothes for you and him. He hadn’t even realized he grabbed two of his shirts, throwing you one of his. You caught it with a smile, slipping it on. Once you were dressed, he picked you up, causing you to giggle as he brought you to bed. You two laid in bed, cuddling each other softly. You sat in silence for a moment before you said, “I love you dear.” Corey kissed your forehead, “and I love you, baby.” You drifted off to sleep a bit after, a smile on your face. Your boyfriend watched you sleep until he too succumbed to the grasp of sleep.

[gamerwoo]

hansol: the lovers playlist

characters: hansol x female reader

genre/warnings: idol au, best friends to strangers, unrequited love, angst, mention of throwing up but the actual act of throwing up never happens

word count: 481

summary: i don't want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else

tag list: @anissanightyoung @aceofvernons @mythicalamphitrite @caratluvie @juliettechokilo @liemwantstosleep @rubyreduji​ @minluvly​ @honeyylin​ @miki-chi​ @heemingyu​ @noraehey​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @floweryjessy​ @woozarts​ @anothershorthuman​ (if you’d like to be added to the tag list, please fill out this form!!!)

a/n: things in bold italics are song lyrics, and just assume all dialogue is in english

previous song | next song | back to playlist

‘So I heard you found somebody else; and at first, I thought it was a lie.’

“Honey...” Mira’s voice was soft and careful.

You knew what she was going to say. You’d already seen it all over the internet. 

Hansol and Ivory were officially public. Completely public. You couldn’t open your phone without seeing a headline about them or seeing every fucking photo of them together in existence.

So you’d locked yourself in your bedroom once again. Your entire body was hidden under the covers as you played the same song over and over on repeat. You were pretty sure all of your members could perfectly recite the song at this point.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she had offered, unsure what else to offer to make you feel better.

‘And come on baby, this ain’t the last time that I’ll see your face.’

But all you wanted to do was lay in bed alone, and listen to the same song over and over again. Lay on your side under the covers; stare at the ceiling; bury your face in your pillow -- different positions but the same song going into your ears and straight to your heart.

How was it oddly comforting to you?

‘I just don't believe that you have got it in you ‘cause we are just gonna keep doing it every time; I start to believe in anything you're saying I'm reminded that I should be gettin' over it.’

‘Right, that’s why.’

It was a good song that captured both how you felt, and what you needed to hear. Even if Mira insisted it would make you feel worse, you kept it on all day. And all night.

Sleep didn’t find you until the early hours of the morning. You had decided you’d feign sick the next day and just avoid schedules to hopefully get some sleep, and without even having to make a plan, the other members already knew they’d lie to staff and say you’d been throwing up all night. 

Thankfully, you slept on and off for a few hours. Every time you woke up, though, your brain bombarded you with the fact that Hansol and Ivory were public. You’d have to see things about them even more often now. You’d have to see people -- some even your own fans -- talk about how they loved them together. You were going to become no better than a bitter, delusional fan who was angry their favorite idol was in a relationship with someone other than you. But you couldn’t find it in you to care.

Besides, eventually, you’d move on. That fact wasn’t promised, but you liked to think you would.

‘No, I don't want your body but I'm picturing your body with somebody else.’

For now, you could not care about anything else and just be sad for yourself and your broken heart.

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summery: You and Tom bet on who will touch the other first after he comes home from filming. Both refusing to give in you resort to some teasing measures to get the other one to break.

Pairing; Tom + female reader.

Themes: Light-hearted, lots of teasing. Established relationship. Fluff. Cocky Tom. Cocky reader too, let’s face it. They are both stubborn idiots. Lots of horniness all around. To be honest, very little plot and mostly smut. Bit of fluff as well though. 

Warnings: Unprotected sex in established relationship. Masturbation. This work is strictly +18.

A/N: Not beta-read, I’m wine drunk and wrote this in like 2,5 hours so it is what it is. 

It was such a stupid fucking bet and he wish he never agreed to it. It is all your fault, he decides, as he watches you bend over into downward dog, your breathing rhythmic and even as you stretch your beautiful body. He tries to look away from your ass, honestly he does, but you’re wearing those light grey yoga pants that practically has him drooling and the fabric is hugging your body so perfectly it would be a crime to look away. 

Plus, he’s pretty sure that’s the whole point of you doing this, practicing yoga in the living room right in front of him as he’s supposed to be working. The whole point is to have him staring, so he doesn’t feel too bad about it. 

It had all started the week before he was set to return from filming. He had teased you (and sure, in retrospect that was a terrible idea and he should have known better) had said that you would jump him the first chance you got, that he probably wouldn’t even get through the door before you had him out of his jeans. You had retaliated with an accusation that he would be the one all over you and obviously he had to deny that.

It had spiraled, neither one of you willing to give in and admit defeat and now here you are; a full day after his return and he hasn’t as much as hugged you. 

Because whoever touches the other first loses the bet. 

And now here you are, in front of him; wearing skin tight yoga pants and bending over. 

A part of him, the midsection of his body to be precise, wants to just give in; to hand you the victory - fuck his pride. But the part of him, the rational part he likes to think, that has him bashing up golf clubs every time his dad beats him in a golf round; refuses to give in.

So what if he hasn’t seen you, hasn’t felt your body in over three months? Or that he now has your magnificent ass right in his face as he’s trying to concentrate on his dull emails. So what? He’s not faced by that, he’s a man of the world after all. 

You lean forwards again until you’re on the ground, turn to your back and start to slowly but steadily push your hips up and down, in what Tom can only assume, is referred to as the ghost fucking position. 

“Aren’t you supposed to answer emails?” You ask and he doesn’t even need to look at your face to know that you have a smug smile on your face.

“I am” he mutters, looking away from your body on the floor and back to his phone screen. 

You laugh, and he pretends not to hear it, while you pretend that the visible hard-on he’s sporting doesn't make you want to climb into his lap and give in to both of your temptations. 

The bet was stupid and totally his idea.

Tom comes out of the shower, drops of water still pouring from his wet hair onto his sculpted chest. The only thing he’s wearing is the white towel wrapped around his waist and the silver Rolex on his wrist. Seeing you standing in the kitchen and slicing tomatoes he sends you his widest smile. 

And you thought you were playing unfair with the yoga. 

He sits down by the bartop, all bare chested and golden. “Anything I can help with?” he asks as you place the tomatoes in the salad bowl. “A change of music perhaps?”

You throw a left over piece of tomato at him and it hits him square in the chest. He just smiles wider, completely unfaced. “Leave my dinner playlist alone, yeah?” You tell him, resisting the urge to give him the finger. 

“So tense” he snickers and leans his head to the side, “I know what could help you relax.”

“Throwing more tomatoes at you? Because we need them in the salad, Thomas.”

He stands up and moves around the kitchen island until he’s behind you, careful as not to touch, framing you against the bench with his strong arms on either side of your body. You can smell him, fresh out of the shower, feel the warm radiate from his body; it is as he’s already holding you. He’s so close, it’s like every cell in your body is reaching out for him. 

And it’s been so long. 

Three months of twisting and turning alone in bed, of only your own hands as company and him on the phone screen as he encourages you; tells you how goddamn gorgeous you look fucking yourself for him. Three months of only seeing him on the phone; not being able to touch him and feel him for yourself, to taste his skin. To just see him spill all over his own hand instead of being there, catching it all with your tongue. 

But it will have to wait a little while longer, because although you might love him, and the way he makes you feel, there’s no way you’re giving in just yet. 

Slowly turning around, carefully as not to touch him, you reach for the bottle. “You can open this, since you wanted to help” you say and hand him the wine, “that would help me relax.”

He smiles, unbothered by his failed attempt at luring you to defeat, and steps back. You stir the pasta sauce, trying not to look at his bare chest as he’s leaning over the kitchen counter, looking for something. Finally he finds the corkscrew and sits back again at the bar table. He gets to work with opening the bottle, his strong veined hand wrapped around the throat of the bottle, as the other inserts the screw. His brow is furrowed in concentration and he’s biting his lip. Around his wrist the Rolex watch reflects in the light. Uncorking the bottle he pours blood red liquid into two wine glasses and hands you one before taking a sip from his own, brown eyes looking at you from over the rim of his glass. 

“Put a fucking shirt on, Thomas” you mutter, going back to chopping vegetables.

The song and dance of torturing each other continues for the following two days. What goes on between you can only be described as a red-hot war. 

“Oh for fuck sake!” Tom’s voice booms over the living room. 

“Too direct?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“No, no not at all” he answers, voice dripping with sarcasm, “no please, keep deep-throating the banana, it’s incredibly subtle.”

Slowly he wakes, blinking into the dark night. The alarm clock on his bedside table tells him that it’s just after 2 am and for a few long seconds he stares at it.

A rustling of sheets beside him in bed and it hits him. He’s home, home in his own bed with you laying next to him, as it should always be. Except that things aren’t the way it should be. 

Because of that stupid goddamn bet. 

The sheets rustle again and he wonders if you are awake as well. But then he hears it; a soft moan. 

Turning over in bed at lighting speed he stares down at you. “Are you fucking touching yourself?” He asks, heatedly. 

Your answer is another soft moan as you look up at him, pupils blown wide and lips parted. Tearing of the duvet he looks down at your naked body, at you hand, covered in slick, moving over your clit.

Fuck. 

He moves over, leans over you; his legs on either side of yours and his arm on each side of your face, carefully making sure that he isn’t touching you. A slight catch of breath is all the sign you give of having been surprised, your hand keeping it’s gentle pace. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, voice low in the quiet room. 

“You” is your breathless reply, “you touching me.”

“Think this is how I would touch you?” He asks, snickering. He’s holding his body over you, looking into your lust-filled eyes. “I’d go much slower at first, tease you. Slowly move around your clit until your hips are bucking up and you're begging me for more”.

He moves his head, so that his lips are almost touching yours. Almost. 

“You’re so good at begging after all” he murmurs against your lips, moving his boxer clad hips so that they almost touch you and you groan, your face telling of vexation and volatile bliss. But you do as he says, follow his instruction with the movement of your hand. 

“Good girl” he whispers softly against your lips. 

“Then I’d slide one fingers inside that wet cunt, still slow; still teasing.” 

You whine, but you do as he says. Slowly you move one finger in and out of yourself, as the other hand is still circling your clit. “Need more” you moan but he just smiles.

“Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He teases with a devilish grin, tilting his head to the side, looking down at you with sparkling eyes. “But your hands are smaller than mine, so maybe you should add another finger.” 

You insert your middle finger as well; and moan. “Faster” you beg, but he shakes his head and so a string of curses fall out your mouth and all he can do is smile at it. 

“That filthy fucking mouth of yours” me mutters. 

“Well if you shove your dick into it instead then this stupid fucking bet will be over and we’ll both get off.”

“You know, I’ve really missed your fantastic sense of humor while I’ve been away” he answers dryly, but with a smile. 

“Tom” you whine. “I need more.”

He wants to kiss you so badly, to press his lips against yours and taste you; to remove his boxers and sink into you in one swift movement until your hoarse and wanton whines turn into satisfied moans, soft and sweet like honey. 

“Go on then, darling” he says, voice huskier than usual in the dark night. “Speed up for me.”

You do, your body hungry for satisfaction, hunting your orgasm with determent, sharp movements. 

“Fuck,” he swears, “fuck you’re soaked.” He looks down at your wet slit, your rapidly moving fingers, your hips bucking up to meet your hand. Looking back into your wild eyes he groans, his mouth still dangerously close to yours.

“The whole room smells of you” he moans, and it’s true. The scent of your arousal mixes with the scent of your perfumed skin and this is the closest he’s been so far to falter; to give in to temptation.

Your head is thrown back against the pillows, throat exposed, soft moans escaping freely. He wants to touch you everywhere, feel the softness of your skin with his rough hands, his wet mouth, his teeth. He’s breathing hard and he hasn’t even been touched, but he feels the want of touching you in his bones.

He wants to wrap his lips around your hardened nipples. To suck, bite, lick and kiss them until you fall over the edge. 

“So fucking beautiful” he breathes out. Even if he had wanted to he wouldn't have been able to look away from you. “But it’s my hand your fucking, remember? Think I’d wouldn’t fuck you harder than that?”

And god, he wish it was his hand you were fucking, wish he could feel you come; hot and wet and pulsing around his fingers. Instead he is left to watch. Watch as the movements of your hand speeds up until fucking yourself with a carnal kind of need, until you fall apart at the seams; luscious bliss spreading over your features, and your tense body relaxes until you soften against the mattress;  loose limbed and starry eyed. 

And he is left to take care of the his erection all on his own.

A thin layer of sweat is covering his chest and his muscles are taut as he forces his arms to carry his weight into another push-up. 

“Thirty-six” he groans out, his voice strained and deep from the physical effort, curls of brown hair falling over his face as he lowers himself to the ground again. “Thirty-seven.”

You couldn’t look away even if you tried, your eyes fixed on the muscles of his back, and the way they move as he moves. 

You feel agitated and frantic and in that moment you want nothing more than to lay down beneath him; look up at him as move above you with swift, powerful moments. It’s beyond reason, the carnal tug inside you as you watch him and it is absolutely maddening that he hasn’t given in yet to his desire; because you know he desires you, have seen it in his dark eyes, always following you around the room, over the last few days. 

But you are not going to be the first one to give in. 

“Forty-two” he moans out, and the sound of his heavy breathing and deep groans vibrate somewhere far inside you.

You’re not. 

You just need a change of tactic, that’s all.

The pub is packed tonight, but the more secluded pool area section is scarce of people. Tom sips on his beer, scrolling through instagram; waiting for you, as the speakers blast out ‘Galway Girl’ for what feels like the hundredth time since he came in. He’s been visiting a friend while you’ve been at work, having decided this morning to meet up at the pub after for a meal and a game of pool. 

A text pops up on the screen, beside your picture. It simply says ‘Look up’. 

He does. And fuck. 

Oh, fuck no. 

Oh, for all that is holy, surely you wouldn’t be that cruel to him.

Not the white shorts.

Not the white shorts you had worn last summer, the ones you know very well turns him on like nothing else. The ones you had worn that time when you had driven down to the beach on bonfire night; the time when you pulled him aside from the rest of the company and he had ended up fucking you against the birch wood tree just some meters away from all your friends, your shorts around your ankles and your nails digging into his back as you tried to bite back you moans.

Surely you wouldn’t be this cruel to him, because he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. He hasn’t had sex in over three months and you show up looking like this  and he’s pretty sure he’s going to die. 

He’s just not sure about whether this is going to be heaven

or hell. 

He watches you as you walk through the pub with long confident strides, the goddamn heels you're wearing extending your legs, and the fabric of the white tank top stretching over your chest. Your lips are painted blood red, as if you are ready for battle.

He’s not the only one in the pub staring at you but you keep your eyes fixed on him, burning into his eyes, as you move across the floor. 

“Honey” you greet him. “Got one of those for me as well?” You nod to the beer in his hand, frozen mid movement to his mouth. 

“Why?” He asks, trying to regain the upper hand. “Feeling thirsty?”

You laugh dryly, looking down at his crotch, where he’s painfully aware a bulge is showing. Instead of commenting on it he hands you the other beer bottle he ordered and watches as you wrap your red lips around the opening, swallowing down. He feels warm all over in the stuffy pub and he pulls at the collar of his t-shirt. 

He reaches for the cue sticks and hands you one. “Alright, darling” he sighs, knowing very well what kind of teasing hell you are about to put him through tonight, “let’s play.”

The playlist has gone from Ed Sheeran songs to Mumford & Sons and the pub is still packed with people, though the pool area remains empty apart from you and Tom. It's warm in there and Tom takes big gulps from his third beer of the night. He can feel sweat forming on his back, his brow, his chest. 

You’re not helping the situation. Although he’s pretty certain that helping is opposite of what you’re trying to do. 

“You’re so fucking annoying” he whines, as he watches you hit the white ball perfectly, resulting in two of your striped balls ending up in the pockets. He’s leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and mouth in a thin line.

He fucking hates losing. 

“You know what you should do?” You ask, lining up against the table, arched back as you bend over with your cue stick; giving him a full view of your fucking fantastic thighs, “try to fuck it out of me.” You hit another perfect shot and a third ball goes in. You look over your shoulder at him, still bent over the table, and wink.

Standing up straight you turn to him. Swaying your hips to the music you lift the beer bottle to your red lips and you swallow a mouthful. Placing the bottle next to you on the side of the pool table you walk over to him, standing so close you’re almost touching. 

Almost

In fact, you might as well be, for he can smell your perfume, mixing with the scent of your shampoo. Can feel the heat radiate of your warm body. It’s been so long since he’s held you and his entire body is painfully aware of it. 

With your lips just centimeters from his you whisper; voice husky and low, “I know how bad you want me, honey.” You move your face so that you’re almost kissing the stubble on his cheek, mouth nearly pressed against it. 

“You want my hands” you whisper again, looking up at him, your hand hovering right over his erection, carefully as not to touch it, and he nearly bucks out to meet your hand. He’s glad that the area is more secluded, part of the wall hiding the pair of you from view. It feels like there’s just the two of you in the entire world; might as well be for all he cares right now. A blush colours his cheeks as he stares back at you.

 “You want my mouth” you breathe against him, your lips curled into an evil smile. “You want my tongue” and you lick your lips before biting it, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“You wish I was on my hands and knees right now, so you could fuck my mouth.” you finish. 

His skin feels tight and overheated, but he keeps his tone casual as he replies, “actually I wish you were bent over the table so spank that arse of yours, but sure, I wouldn’t say no to a blowie.”

“What’s stopping you? You think you can hold on forever? You know I’m not going to give in, Tom. You know me. Can you imagine going to sleep tonight? Untouched? Again?” 

There’s no use he thinks as he plunges in for a kiss, pulling you tight against him; eager to touch as much as you as possible with impatient hands. 

He tried to beat the devil at her own game and he lost.

“Think you lost, honey” you say between kisses as he’s pressing you up against the front door. 

“Don’t give a flying fuck love, just keep touching me and I’ll die a happy man.” His voice is breathless and hoarse and his hands are all over you; as if he can’t get enough. Your hand is in his soft hair, holding on, as the other is cupping the bulge in his trousers, stroking him through the fabric as he whimpers in your ear. 

“We should probably get inside,” you whisper. “Unless you want your neighbors to witness me give you a hand job on the front steps.” 

He groans, but steps away from you. His hair is ruffled and his pupils are blown wide, spit from your previous kissing covering his lower lip. You imagine you look just as disheveled. 

“Think you need to learn a lesson in delayed gratification” you tease, not being able to stop yourself. 

His eyes go even darker and he takes a step forward again, cups your chin and looks you straight in the eye in a way that has bolts of excitement shoot up your spine. “Before the night is over” he says in a slow, gruff voice, “I will teach you all there is to know about delayed gratification.”

He digs in his pockets, pulls out his keys and unlocks the front door, guiding you in with a hand on your lower back. 

He feels as if someone has lit a match under his skin. His whole body is screaming with vehement urgency for yours. His hands can’t get enough of you; his lips never want to leave your soft lips again. Your soft little noises are filling his head and he hardly even registers your hands unzipping his jeans; until you’re pulling them, alongside his boxers, off of him in a sharp tugging notion. 

“Filthy girl, I fucking love you” he moans out between kisses as you wrap your soft hand around his hard cock. 

He pulls at your tank top and for a moment your skin separates entirely from his as you step away, so that he can remove the fabric from you. Yanking at the goddamn jeans shorts he pulls them down around your ankles and you step out of them.  Your underwear soon follows suit along with his t-shirt until you both are free of any inconvenient clothing. 

He needs your warm and soft skin pressed against his, needs your soft little moans in his ear as he fucks into you, needs the taste of your sweet skin on his tongue. 

He lifts you up on the bed and soon follows suit. Reaching down he slips a finger between your legs, feels how wet and warm and slick you are and groans loudly against your shoulder. 

Lining up against you, cock in hand he looks at your lust filled eyes. “Next time I’ll go slow, yeah? I’ll take my time.”

Your answer is your hands on his shoulder, pulling him against you and he slips inside you with an ecstatic moan. You moan as well, wrap your legs around his hips. He starts moving, thrusting in and out of you with greedy dragged out jabs. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room and mixes with your whimpering mewls. 

You are so hot and tight and wet around him and the pleasure is so intense it’s bordering on painful. His face is so close to yours, it is as if you are sharing breaths. 

He wants to punch himself from denying himself this for several days when he already had to go without for months.

“Did you think your hands could stand in for mine while I was away? That it could measure up at all?” He asks you, voice thick with lust. He’s so full of want for you and you’re all soft noise and wandering hands. Your warm breath on his even warmer skin. His lips on your nipples; kissing, sucking, biting. 

You writhe beneath him, unable to lay still as you buck your hips up to meet his; fucking into him. He’s not going to last long but neither is you and holding on is a losing battle. Like he said, next time he will go slower, gentler, softer. Drag it out for an entire night. But you both have too much built up pressure inside you to last now. He feels like a bomb about to go off, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine, as he fucks into you with even greater force. You’re hot and swollen and hugging onto him so perfectly he feels like he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get to come soon. 

But he knows that you are close. Feels it in your nails, dragging along his back, in the sharp movements of your thrusts, in your laboured breathing against his shoulder. He feels it in the way your cunt squeezes around him.

“I’m coming” you whimper and he wants to cry from the relief as he feels you spasm around him.

“Fuck” you moan out as your breathing calms down, and he’s holding you pressed against his chest. “Haven’t had a decent orgasm in months, I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“You really can’t function without me, can you?” he says with a smug smile and honestly, hadn’t you’ve been so blissed out you probably would have bitten him. 

A/N: I honestly don’t know if any of this made sense. I’m drunk and tired and I’m going to bed. If you read it, please leave your thoughts. 

[renuqi]

hihhihihi !!!!!! you said you needed more hq requests so i am here <3 is it okay if i ask for sugawara / suna / tendou / terushima ( you can pick <3 ) as an s/o <3

BIBA MY BELOVED THANK YOU SM FOR THE REQUEST!!! this is prob the last thing i post on here for the night bc i got school tmrw :') also i'll prob do all 4 at some point but for now I'm just gonna do suga n suna

S/O HEADCANNONS

⤷ sugawara, suna x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: im happy crying they are so cute

- [ ♡ ] suna

— naps w him are the best???

— like he gives the best cuddles,,, HIS HUGS R SO WARM

— this smug mf prob the type of bf to do that thing where he leans down and tilts his head to hear you better (if you’re shorter than him)

— if you’re taller,,, THIS MF-

— he’ll grab your shoulder and pull you down so you are eye-level with him and say “say that again?” with this pretty smirk ARGDMENMF

— has a collaborative playlist with you on spotify where you both add songs that remind you of eachother

— even if he’s not the best at expressing his emotions,, he knows exactly how you feel so he’s always there to comfort you

— he never assumes that you know how much he loves you,, he is always doing something to show it (hes trying his best :)))

— like i said in that one drabble,, he compares you to any cute animal he finds on the internet

— like he found this cat picture on pinterest

and he made a collage of the cat picture with a picture of you with the same face/ pose beside it and ur like ??? where did u get that pic of me???

- [ ♡ ] sugawara

— hes so good w kids and that makes him 2938929293x more attractive

— like u were babysitting ur niece and he wanted to tag along so you let him

— SEEING HIM GET ALONG W UR NIECE MADE UR HEART GO DOKI DOKI AAHHHHHH

— people may see him as a mom friend but this bitch is the devil reincarnated

— he plays pranks on you every chance he can get and you just like ??? where was the caring loving energy you were giving go T_T

— such a gentleman outside of that tho,, he’ll open doors for you, pull your chair out for you, etc.

— the amount of inside jokes you have ?!?!? like you’ll be hanging out w the third years and you pop a inside joke and you and suga are on the floor laughing while the rest of the third years are so confused

— calls you the sweetest pet names :(

— he uses that as a way to tease you tho,,, like pops out the cheesy and corny ones bc hes a playful s/o <333

— expect him to text you shit like “my little sugar cookie 😇😇” “my sugar plum 😘🍷” LIKE

main masterlist <3

hq masterlist <3

rbs and likes appreciated !!

[alluringjae]

au cours de l’été - jjh

⤑ translation: over the summer

⤑ summary: this is a story of an exhausted painter who needed a breather from the hectic city life. so aside from moving to the countryside, the needed air in your lungs also came in the form of a person. this summer meant for pure relaxation, perhaps your heart may dive into him too.

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 15.2k (so much for saying that i’ll be writing shorter stories)

⤑ genre: fluff, romance, smut | author!jaehyun, painter!reader, strangers to lovers!au, 50s-60s!au, summer love in france!au

⤑ warnings: me inserting some french phrases because I want to practice (feel free to correct me if I made mistakes, i’ll appreciate them), fictional interpretations of real-life people, explicit language, jaehyun being such a romantic pls im in tears, mentions and scenes of burnout (the worst)

⤑ playlist: everybody loves somebody by dean martin | c’est si bon by eartha kitt | it’s always you by chet baker | les yeux ouverts by emilie-claire barlow | a sunday kind of love by etta james | the most beautiful thing by bruno major | try again by jaehyun and d.ear (duh) | free love (dream edit) by honne | petite fleur by jill barber | plus je t’embrasse by blossom dearie | so this is love by ilene woods and mike douglas

⤑ author’s note: this was an idea that just came to me after pinterest kept recommending me poetic beauty/try again jaehyun, so here we are! i intended to write less than 5k words but sometimes plans don’t go as planned once you really invest in the story yet i’m really happy how this turned out!

the romantic exhilaration in my bones are off the charts because this is jaehyun we’re talking about lol enjoy!

⤑ masterlist

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!

3 juin 1957

The city life overstimulated your entire system, losing your brainpower and inspiration. Another exhibition that’ll feature your works with other influential painters was happening at the end of the year, and you had nothing prepared so far. You’ve crashed to the deep end of creative fatigue.

So you needed to get away again; somewhere quieter and surrounded by nature.

That’s why you ended up in the countryside down south, somewhere within Provence. It’s purely just for the summer, but extensions were okay as long you get back at least a month before the show. Filing that leave of absence at the studio you worked at was worth it.

You rented an apartment overlooking the marketplace, where the heart of the village was. After arranging things from your boxes and luggage the entire day, you found out that you lacked in the food department.  

So the succeeding day, the entire morning was spent on grocery shopping downstairs then stocking them inside your refrigerator, freezer, and pantry. Right after changing out of your pajamas into a flowy floral dress and sandals, you decided to bike to the bakery that locals suggested. A must-go place for newcomers, they all raved.

“Café des Étoiles Perdues.” (Café of Lost Stars.)

The clear chimes of the bell resounded through the small, cottage-like lobby as you entered inside. An old woman, whom you assumed was the owner, welcomed you openly.

“Oh la la, vous êtes belle! Vous vous appelez (Y/N), la nouvelle venue, n'est-ce pas?” (Oh la la, you’re beautiful. Your name is (Y/N), the newcomer, right?)

She complimented, making you shyly mutter your answer. Wiping off the flour from her apron, she introduced herself kindly.

“Je m’appelle Camille. Mes spécialités sont les macarons pisctaches et des croissants avec des amandes. Autre chose que tu aimes?” (I’m Camille. My specialties are the pistachio macarons and croissants with almonds. Is there anything else you like?)

“J'aime tout ce que vous suggères, Madame.” (I’d like anything that you suggest, Madame.)

A younger man, who went by Jaemin, was a part-timer barista who asked for your coffee order. As he directed you to the best seat of the café, which was outside overlooking the garden of blooming sunflowers, you pulled out your sketch pad so you could capture this dreamy view. It was nothing like you’ve ever seen in your life.

You’ve decided on a theme already for your exhibit thanks to your conversations with locals yesterday, which was related to freedom. After being chained to cities for so-called better living and financial standards, it’s actually how your inspiration to create squeezed the life out of you like a lemon. Although it was fun at first to see those tourist spots, it eventually got tiring.

Another matchstick to graze intensity through your bones was what you prayed for.

While you’re engaged in a rough sketch of the scenery, the dandy presence of a young man entered the café with his books. White shirt, red trousers with a matching beret, he sported freckles on his pale face. Despite visiting his favorite café numerously, Camille was overjoyed to see him and his serene smiles.

“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”

“Bonjour, Madame! I’m starving for your croissants because I ran out back home.”

“Not to worry! I’ll pack up some so you’re on your way.” She lightened him up like one of her kids, taking one of the bigger paper bags.

“No rush though, Madame. I’ll be reading and working here for a bit here.” Jaehyun affirmed, bringing it out his wallet and called out for Jaemin.

“Un café crème, s’il vous plait.” (One cup of cappuccino, please.)

Jaehyun’s usual chair was by the large window, overseeing the wide garden planted by the citizens of the village way before he was born. It was places like this he missed after moving to the city for his education and work’s sake. 

That’s the thing when you’re coming from a rich family; you don’t have much of say with what your parents order you to do. However, his recent request to stay in his childhood home (or mansion) again was fulfilled because he couldn’t search for what he needed in the cities anymore.

Jaehyun was a sucker for romance; an old romantic others would say. A lot of women mistook his kindness as flirting on many occasions, but ironically he just wasn’t looking for anyone yet. 

Starting as a novelist in the said genre based on real-life stories of people he met in Paris, Barcelona, London, and more, his stories were popular hits especially to young adults who aspire to find love one day.

However, traveling to the known places no longer felt fun as he got older. The stories he gathered were very similar, just in different languages. It took an enthusiastic dinner with his family, specifically his only older sister Krystal retelling fond stories from their younger years to get the idea of moving back for a bit. So consumed with the city life, he wanted to see things from another perspective.

What was the difference between a love story formed in the countryside than in the city?

It’s been a month since he arrived, but he didn’t hurry himself to do his research. He’s been reading books in his family library, revisiting monumental places, exploring around the village, and reconnecting with old friends as if he never left. 

Readjusting to his former life would make writing easier when he’s motivated enough to do it again. Besides, his books were profiting well enough to his taste; good enough for the next 10 years according to his personal accountant, Kim Jungwoo.

Jaehyun resumed reading this book his mother recommended him before he left. Entitled “Réessaye”, which was about a young man who reunites with his childhood sweetheart after his arranged marriage failed. After what she put her through, he’s hesitant whether to try again or let her go.

Jaehyun enjoyed reading books with realistic outlooks on love because he found them more meaningful, enlightening how exactly it makes you feel and do. Even if he enjoyed reading sappy, fairytale-like stories from time to time, he always returned to the real ones as they only displayed the truth.

That love isn’t always rainbows and sunshine, but something that can also break you especially if you go after the wrong person. This kind of mindset was how he toiled on his stories, which gained him a status outside of his unavoidable labels such as “the only striking son of the Jeong family” or “Valentine Boy”.

He diligently browsed through the climax, where the main male character confessed all his constrained emotions to his sweetheart. But it was until Jaemin pressed the bag of croissants in front of his face after placing down his childhood friend’s drink to disturb his peace.

“Reading again?” He taunted, snatching his book away and throwing the bag on Jaehyun’s lap. “When are you writing that book already? Everyone is practically dying for you to release something new again!”

Jaehyun flatly shook his head, drinking his coffee quietly. It’s not the first time anyone asked (or pressured) him about his next release, and it’s the last thing he wanted to think about. “Not in the mood right now, Jaemin. Now off to work before Madame Camille scolds you again.”

“You’re just stalling because you have nothing to write, don’t you?” Jaemin cunningly expressed, raising a brow. He’s known to catch onto the people’s bs easily; the last person you’d want to say your secrets too and Jaehyun realized too late. Though lucky for him, Jaemin shut the topic down right away so he wouldn’t pop a vein.

“Sais-tu de la nouvelle venue dans le village, d'ailleurs?” (Do you know about the newcomer in the village, by the way?)

“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)

Being stuck at his mansion recently, news about village affairs were now late to him. Jaemin’s finger discreetly pointed outside the window, pertaining to a young woman sat outside painting her view in front of her.

That would be you, shading all the flowers in bright colors.

Seeing a new face amazed Jaehyun, especially when she was almost someone right out of a book. In a neat bun with white daisies printed in her dress, she crossed her legs whilst continuing her movements. She bit her lower lip, frustrated over an accidental smudge she made and trying to fix it by blending it with another color. When she accomplished it, she swapped brushes. A thinner one, to outline the shapes of the flower. Her lips curved to a smile after finishing another one perfectly with the rest.

“Jaehyun?”

Jaemin snapped his fingers to his distracted friend, zoning out the window. Still something he hasn’t stop doing, he pondered. With a final snap, Jaehyun broke away from falling hard from his abstract. Jaemin calculated the problem so quickly, analyzing his friend breezily like his medical school requirements.

“Elle est splendide, n'est-ce pas?” (She’s gorgeous, right?)

“Elle ressemble à une personne décente.” (She looks like a decent person.)

Jaehyun pushed it aside, flipping back to the page where he stopped reading. Before Jaemin responded, the door chimed open again to alarm him that a new customer came in. He excused himself to his friend, warning him that this wasn’t the last time he’ll talk about the newcomer too.

Jaehyun nodded along, not taking his friend’s cheeky words so seriously. However, the final result you attempted to create tickled his curiosity, so he slyly peeked from his book to the window.

You’ve freed your hair down, victorious to have started your collection this early in your break. A fantastic start, you let the paint dry first and munch on the croissant that served as your reward. However, you ‘re quick to notice a manly figure glancing through the window. From the side, his brown eyes appeared lively even if his entire face was hidden by the book.

Réessaye by Mark Lee; he must be a romantic. Every person in your studio read it, excluding yourself. Painfully beautiful, they’d summarize it.

Daring to meet more people, you locked eye contact with him. He didn’t expect it, almost flipping from his chair. Bashfully, you waved him a hello to somewhat break the ice. However, it broke his composure, and suddenly, he scurried off with his things from the café.

Now, you got quite worried. You checked your tiny mirror if he saw anything unpleasant with you, but you’d say you look relatively fine. Oh, maybe you could redeem yourself the next time you saw him. After bidding goodbye to Camille and Jaemin, the latter chased after you when you prepared yourself on your bike.

“By any chance, did you say hi to a guy with brown eyes and a red beret?”

“Well, more like I waved at him, then he zoomed out. Did I do something wrong?” You questioned with concern, putting your hands on the handles.

“That’s my friend, who’s quite reserved with strangers. I’m sorry on his behalf.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” You brushed it off politely. “See you again soon, Jaemin!”

Peddling away, letting the cool breeze fan you, your mind reverted its thoughts to that strange man. Maybe you’ll give it some time; you had a lot of it.

“Shucks, he was pretty cute.��

12 juin 1957

The world must really be on your side with these good decisions because you crossed paths with the strange man again in the café a week later. But instead of running away, he asked nicely if he could sit across your free chair in front of your table outside. It was a Saturday, and the place was packed.

“Joignez-moi, s’il vous plait.” (Join me, please.)

You insisted, giving yourself time to subtly observe his physique a lot more. Freckles dotted under his eyes like a constellation, bushy eyebrows, pink cheeks to match his pale complexion, and wearing a fuzzy knit sweater that meshed well with his green beret. He had some sort of necklace too; there was a heart pendant.

“Vous êtes une artiste.” (You’re an artist.) The small wooden palette of paint beside your small sketch pad was exposed, finding it as a great icebreaker.

“Une peintre, spécifiquement. Franchement, les visuels ici sont trés captivants qu'à Paris.” (A painter, to be specific. Frankly, the visuals here are more captivating than in Paris.)

“Je suis d’accord,” (I agree,) Jaehyun leaned against his chair, taking a better look at you with the remaining light from the descending sun.

“Oh, vous êtes comme moi. J’habite à Paris aussi.” (Oh, you’re like me. I live in Paris too.)

“Bon, je suis née à Londres. Puis, j’ai déménagé où je voulais en Europe depuis j'avais 18 ans. Mais oui, j’habite définitivement à Paris maintenant.” (Well, I was born in London then moved wherever I wanted in Europe for inspiration since I was 18. But yes, I live permanently in Paris now.)

You clarified, beginning to enjoy his comforting company. Initiating conversations with people you’re not acquainted with wasn’t in your range of skills, though he didn’t have an intimidating vibe. He looked too youthful to act like that.

“Je m’appelle (Y/N), d'ailleurs.” (I’m (Y/N), by the way.) You stuck out your hand as a sign of respect, which he enthusiastically obliged.

“Salut, (Y/N). Je m’appelle Jaehyun.” [Hi, (Y/N). I’m Jaehyun.]

He kissed it in a gentleman fashion, applying the manners he’s been taught since he was a child. Should you have been flustered, but no.  It’s been a long time since anyone greeted you like that, specifically back home.

Throughout your talk, you learned more about who he was, his job, and what his life in the countryside is like. He was an author of romance novels, yet you’ve never heard about him prior. Heavily prioritizing your work, you don’t keep up with the new releases or trends at all. Though after mentioning his last name, it piqued your interest.

“Jeong? As in the business, Jeong Tea Inc.?”

“Correct.”

His family was one of the most affluent families in Parisian society. Old money immigrants from South Korea, they brought their tea business to France and it boomed successfully. You’re quite sure you’ve seen his parents in past exhibits, but never did you approach them because you were a rookie then. But he reassured you that it was fine, and to just treat him like you’d treat your friends. Plus, it came to your knowledge that he was the same age as you too.

He opened up how this village was where he lived his childhood, so he asked his parents if he could hand over their mansion for a while for rest. It then shocked both of you at how identical your reasons were for staying in the countryside.

“I’m burnt out from the city, so I’m trying to regain my spirit here hopefully. Besides, I needed a change of scenery after living there for 3 years. My longest stay yet outside of London!”

“I need new ideas for my books. The cities don’t charm me anymore, so I returned here for peace and quiet. Maybe let these ideas come to me rather than me going after them.”

From a bigger lens, people would conclude your interaction as a sight of two artists who passionately talk about their art. But to you, you’d interpret it as two relaxed, young adults in their twenties who simply wanted to run away from the pressures of their art and enjoy the summer as every young adult should.

Not cooped up in the studio or office, but innocently waltzing around with your youth while it’s still there.

début de juillet 1957

“Dépêche-toi, (Y/N)!” [Hurry up, (Y/N)!]

Jaehyun yelled at your open balcony from downstairs, parking his mini car beside your bike. He planned on taking you somewhere a little farther this time; to absolutely feel like one of the locals.

The countryside urged you to wear more dresses and flat shoes, so you took out a turquoise dress with a white scarf to wrap on top of your head. Like your relaxed fit, your mindset too was calm. Upon meeting him, he wore his round spectacles with a red knit sweater over a white turtleneck long-sleeved top. His fingers were adorned with silver rings, then around his neck was a thin black ribbon. He curled some of his hair again, a style you really liked of his.

You can’t lie, but this man could pull any trend or style and still look extra pretty.

Out of all the locals you’ve befriended in your stay, Jaehyun was always your companion. He took you to varying places that those locals don’t visit nor tourists acknowledge in their reviews for the past few weeks. For someone who hasn’t been in the village for a long time, his memory didn’t disappoint. His childhood was only filled with cheerful moments.

Today, he was taking you to a peaceful district of shops in the farther part of the village. It’s where he’d buy sweets, journals, and accessories with his mother, Krystal, and one of his housemaids every other weekend.

All the stores there were currently bombarded with blooming flowers along their alley, bringing more enticement to those who were roaming around. There was so much life here; the head waiter of one restaurant smiling at every passing customer, one florist handing a free flower to anyone who asks, and a young lady showcasing her jewelry collection to a bunch of women who looked like tourists.

“Cette librairie vendent des livres enveloppés dans du papier. Ma mère m'a offerte l'un d'eux pour mon anniversaire tous les ans comme une surprise.” (This bookstore sells books wrapped in paper. My mother gifted me one of them on my birthday every year as a surprise.)

He trained his attention at a rustic shop with open wooden windows giving a glimpse of their shelves.

“Avez-vous fini les lisant?” (Have you finished reading them?)

“Du début à la fin.” (From cover to cover.)

He took you to this rooftop restaurant overlooking the entire plaza. Since he didn’t arrange a reservation yet didn’t get rejected, he must know the owner. Especially how a lot of the staff gave casual hellos and high fives.

Speaking of the owner, he walked out of his kitchen to introduce himself to you. He went by the name Moon Taeil, another one of Jaehyun’s childhood friends whom he used to play at his house whenever his parents came along.

Gobbling up in the appetizing food Taeil prepared beforehand, Jaehyun brought up your painting exhibition again. He loved hearing artists talk about their works, wanting to know more about their driven mindset and what their imagination is like. After all, it does vary for everyone.

“So far,” You poked your fork through the chicken, taking a bite of it. “I’ve produced 3 paintings. The garden of flowers outside Café des Étoiles Perdues, the kids playing hopscotch in the alley, and the peach tree outside your house.”

“Woah, you’re on a roll.” Jaehyun clapped across you, pouring you another glass of water. He recalled the nights you ranted not having any clue what to do for the exhibit. Then after taking you to more places, he’s rewarded to see you be creatively active again. “How many artworks do you left to make?”

“Around 3-4 left. I have ideas already, but I’m still brainstorming.” You internally rejoiced, loving how much progress you’ve made. “How about you, Jaehyun? How’s your progress?”

Unlike you, Jaehyun still felt stuck. Although he did find couples around the village, none of them intrigued him as much as his past stories. But he won’t give up easily; that’s not in his work ethic.

“Still searching, but I’ll get there.”

Recently, you got ahold of some of Jaehyun’s books from him personally since they weren’t sold in the village. You wanted to understand how he became so well known outside the labels people put him under. Reading his first novel entitled “Des Papillons” (Butterflies), it was about a couple separated during World War II without contact or knowledge about their well-being. Yet whenever they saw butterflies on the day they parted, they took it as a sign that the other was alive wherever they were.

You’re always hanging on the cliff when the scenes revert back and forth to the main male lead getting stuck in intense war scenarios, rooting for him to get out alive each time. In the end, it took 7 years before they were reunited and wed.

Jaehyun had a wonderful way with his words and descriptions, managing to enwrap you in as if you’re also a character in the book. Like how you rooted for that male lead, you’re rooting for him to find his spark again.

Following this uplifting conversation, Jaehyun finally took to your greatly anticipated spot. It was the main viewpoint of Gordes, one of the most beautiful hilltop villages in the country. The sunset was about to hit, and the lights from the city across you slowly turned on like a bunch of dominos.

As you marveled at its aesthetics, Jaehyun leaned against the hood of his car. He sensed how in awe you were, more than you ever were in the city he assumed. So used to the city that being surrounded with nature became foreign to you.

He took out his polaroid camera from his trunk and captured a photo of you from behind. The shutter sounds were obvious, turning your back at the commotion. Jaehyun fanned the freshly printed photo to dry, giving a mischievous smile.

“What can I say? While you’re fawning over the view, mine was more enamoring.”

Although Jaehyun felt overwhelmed the first time he locked eyes with you, he can’t resist the power of his developing feelings for you. The more time he took you around, the more his heart found different details about you to admire. After listening to all those love stories in the past, the people he spoke to shared how there will be some distinct moment where your heart decides who they’re longing for.

That exact view of you by the cliff, he already knew.

He’s infatuated by you.

“Tu es très ringard, Jaehyun.” (You’re so cheesy, Jaehyun.) You scoffed sassily, with a hand on your waist.

“Un gentleman ne ment jamais, (Y/N). Allez, il fait nuit maintenant.” [A gentleman never lies, (Y/N). Come on, it’s night already.]

He cleverly responded, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. The trip back to the village was energizing, putting down the roof of his car to relish the chill breeze of the night weather. You even raised your arms in the air, losing your scarf even from the speed Jaehyun went at!

The two of you belted along to the songs on the radio when the fields were the only ones surrounding you, no neighbors to shout at your rambunctiousness.

The late-night hours drew by so quickly almost like dinner with more of Jaehyun’s friends didn’t happen. Arriving at the front doors of your apartment complex, Jaehyun raced over to your side to open your door. Always maintained proper observation of manners, you appreciated that side of him. Rarely anyone in Paris that you’ve encountered treated you that way because you were a foreigner.

“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]

“Bonsoir, Jaehyun. Quand est-ce que je te revois?” (Goodnight, Jaehyun. When can I see you again?)

“Demain et après-demain. Appelle-moi quand tu es libre.” (Tomorrow, and the day after that. Just give me a call when you’re free.)

With a short wave, you entered your building and marched up to the stairs. A good day only meant being tired to the core, ready to crash and fall in your soft bed. Opening your wide windows to let more of the cool breeze in, your eyes easily caught Jaehyun’s classy car still there. As for the owner, he didn’t move an inch from his leaning position.

“Rentre à la maison, Jaehyun! C’est tard!” (Go home, Jaehyun! It’s late!) You shrieked, peeking side to side to make sure none of the neighbors scold you.

Jaehyun laughed wholeheartedly, not budging at all. “La nuit ne fait que commencer, ma chérie.” (The night has just begun, my darling.)

“Comment tu m'as appelé?” (What did you call me?)

Either your ears were fooling you or he addressed you by a divine pet name. The gasp you swallowed, as your entire body tingled with exhilaration. Your mind would simply disregard it like his former teasing words, but your heart begged to differ.

Rather than responding with words, Jaehyun’s voice serenaded you with a wondrous song, C’est Si Bon by Eartha Kitt, that played on the radio earlier. Out of the blue, a random guitar accompaniment followed his baritone vocals.

“En voyant notre mine ravie,”

Against the railing of your wired balcony, your body shifted forward to watch him better.

“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”

Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.

“C'est si bon de guetter dans ses yeux,”

It was like a lullaby, and here you were drowning in its peacefulness. Sensing the passion he gives off in his singing, your heart couldn’t refrain the strings inside from being swayed and tugged.

This was your moment of realization: that you too were smitten.

“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”

À la mi-juillet de 1957

“Hello, nature!” You greeted brightly as your legs raced the huge garden in his manor. It was the first time he invited you over, too lazy to go out of the city. His social battery needed a recharge for the weekend, so a picnic within his home would do the trick. Additionally, it was an excuse to bring you over after the numerous times you’ve begged him to.

Jaehyun merely shook his head, enjoying the rush of childlike fun in your veins while you squealed and grazed your hands through the flowers.

He carried a wooden basket full of treats his family maids cooked, taking his time to venture through the rows of flowers. They were growing healthily and phenomenally these days, sometimes riding his bike to personally water them since he became busy with writing again. Lately, he found inspiration again, and so he wrote day and night to set them free.

“Voila!” You yanked out a sunflower, sniffing it a little. “Come on, Jaehyun! Pick up a few for our lunch!”

He followed your order, picking out some he found ideal. But just for fun, he put down the basket and carried you from behind out of the blue. You tried kicking him away, but his muscular arms can’t compete with your soft ones.

“What are you doing?”

“You said to pick up a flower, so I did. The prettiest of them all.”

His flirtatious words were never serious, yet you took it as a compliment. That’s how high your confidence is. Only we define our own worth, not others. The two of you chatted more about your lives until the first rain of the season poured down, chilling down from the raging heat. None of you had an umbrella; the weather was too unpredictable.

Deciding to just run for it, he gave you the wooden basket to protect yourself whilst he used the blanket you’ve sat on. Running with laughter to return to his mansion in the muddy dirt, the cool drops shivered your figure yet felt fantastic.

If you were in the city, you’d panic because it’d mess your appearance and your boss would be infuriated by your unprofessionalism. But in the countryside, it didn’t matter at all. The condition of the rain wasn’t budging to improve, getting stronger by the minute. His entire house even lost power, his housemaids having to bring candles to his bedroom and your assigned one once night dawned.

It was hopeless to return home for you, plus it’s dangerous to drive in in the dark, narrow streets too. Jaehyun handed you some of his fresh clothes so you’d be free from flinching from cold dress sticking to your body.

“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”

Nodding, you excused yourself to find the bathroom. You’d assume it’d be easy, but this was your first time in his house; a mansion even. Doors from left to right, long corridors that seemed never-ending, no maids were within the vicinity whom you can ask for guidance.

Resorting to return to Jaehyun’s chamber for help, you were taken aback by what your eyes laid on. In front of his full mirror, he discarded his now-dried shirt. Even with the dim lighting, you could make out that he was fit by the transparent view of his abdomen. Peeping like this was wrong, yet you couldn’t turn away just yet. The heat in your cheeks was inevitable, finding composure in such an unholy sight.

Though a gear in you suddenly twisted; a gear that straightened your nerves. You’re taking a bold move on the chessboard of your feelings. Wholly opening his bedroom door again, you leisurely sauntered inside without warning.

“Oh, (Y/N)! Ne peux pas trouver la salle de bain?” (Oh, (Y/N)! Can’t find the bathroom?)

Unbothered as he stood shirtless, you on the other hand silently dropped his clothes on the floor. Holding intense eye contact, your fingers graciously unzipped the side of your dress. Inch by inch, the tension built up like the strong tiny flames lit on the candles around you two. Joining the pile of clothes, all that remained were your white lace undergarments. Unplanned for the get-go, it’s the ideal set for your earlier outfit at the picnic.

“Je me suis perdue, mais je pense avoir trouvé quelque chose de mieux.” (I got lost, but I think I found something better.)

Your fingers grazed your arm up to your collarbones, faking your naivety. From your lust-filled stare, the glint in Jaehyun’s eyes darkened. He gulped at the revealing sight of you, brushing his hair back to restrain himself.

None of you could utter a single word, only the vivacious rain being the only sounds ringing around you. Thus, you allowed your actions to pursue precisely what you desired to do.

Taking baby steps towards him to test the waters, he met you right in the center and closed the leftover space. His hands cradled your face, whilst yours clung to his chest. His lips tasted like red wine, watching him pour in a glass for himself earlier. He did offer, yet you declined.

Your tongue darted his lower lip, gaining access after. Sensing the edge of his bed, you plopped yourself down the cushion. His knee urged your legs to widen, letting his body slide in. From your face, his fingers lowered to the back of your bra, snapping the clasps open.

“It takes skill to accomplish that in one try, Jaehyun.”

“I lived in Paris too, ma chérie. You out of all people would understand and have the experience.”

His palms massaged your freed breasts, throwing your head back even more to his pillows as his lips ravaged down from your stomach until the fabric of your not-so pure panties.

“Call me that again, please.”

“Ma chérie, seras-tu mienne?” (My darling, will you be mine?) He kissed and licked the tiny ribbon in front repeatedly, where your now-swollen clit laid. It electrified your bones, pulling on to his ruffled hair.

“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)

Sex in the form of one-night stands were all you’ve invested; upcoming artists like you weren’t capable to maintain long-term relationships. Les plans à trois even if you’re extra freaky or drunk from the afterparties of your events. All that these occurrences had in common were not seeing those men ever again after sneaking out of their apartments in the morning.

This time, it’s different.

When they said that doing the deed with someone you’re romantically entangled with was more special, they didn’t bluff. You could plan bits of your life, but it can sometimes change aspects of it when you least expect it. Sometimes for the best or the worst, but right now, it went beyond your expectations.

It’s rewarding that the man you’ve slowly fallen for within your stay returned your affections.

Around late 3 am that night, your brain jolted with artistic ideas that awoken your sonorous rest. There are no hopes of sleeping them off because they tend to bother you for hours until you do something about it. But you’re already so cozy having Jaehyun’s arms around you, skin to skin under the duvet. His lips daunted right above your forehead, recalling his endless kisses there that helped you fall asleep.

Well, these ideas don’t work themselves unless you do. Untangling him tactfully, you stepped out of the blanket and wore one of his long white shirts he gave you earlier before pulling out your sketchpad and palette of oil paints.

Luckily, there was still one available candle to use as the rest have melted indefinitely. You slid the matchstick again to the sand surface, boring a flame from the friction which you placed on top of the wick.

All your ideas that night leaned towards one thing, or person rather: Jaehyun.

You spent a few minutes retracing how he vividly looked at the picnic, leaning back from the chair of his work desk. His outfit of a turquoise turtleneck underneath a white button-top with trousers matching the said turtleneck looked good together, how his ears tingled red after you complimented his newfound inspiration for his book, and the prominent veins in his arms when he rolled his sleeves due to the heat.

The thin brush you held defined the shape of his face, then paying attention to the messy strands of his hair. Stroking in a circular way to outline his eyelids, a hoarse grunt disturbed the peaceful silence.

“Get back in bed, ma chérie.” His eyes drowsily opened, lying on his side. The moment he no longer felt your warmth, he worried something happened. Instead, you’re working late at night after quite a rough yet romantic night.

“Shush,” You shunned him down with your index finger. “Give me a few more minutes.”

“Perhaps, are you painting me?” He hunched from the covers. “Your eyes looking back and forth would never lie to me, would they?”

“Maybe…” You teased, batting your eyes at him without any risky intentions. Or not?

He deeply chuckled, sluggishly removing himself under the covers. In his pure nudity, he advanced himself towards you. You shrieked, covering yourself with your free hand.

“Jaehyun, stay back! I told you I’ll be there soon!”

Not listening, he carried your bridal style, making you drop your precious palette to the fur rug. Laying you carefully, he popped each button open. By the sight of his cock hardening again, you knew you were in for another round with him.

“Wet again, ma chérie? Oh, this will be fun.”

Fin de juillet 1957

So this kind of summer romance concept that everyone fantasized about… it became your present.

Together you’d stroll in the smaller streets and immerse yourselves in the unique culture of the village. Whenever anyone saw you together, holding hands, biking, or what-not, they’d praise in the name of love for bringing you both together. A romance like yours in the countryside was a lively sight.

Remember how extensions were a possibility if your search for inspiration wasn’t found? Well, it’s not a question that you’d make one, except inspiration found you instead. And he had one arm around you as he slow danced with you in the open grounds of the village, listening to the live band covering song classics.

In particular, Chet Baker. He was Jaehyun’s favorite artist at the moment.

There was an ongoing week-long festival dedicated to summer, giving more plants their bloom and spreading gratitude to the hardworking people. Especially the students, off on their break.

The faint radiance from the post lights as Jaehyun swayed you around, making you laugh as he tried to mumble the lyrics of the song. All those glasses of wine he tried earlier with you from the bartender offering it for free had its effects, and you weren’t off the hook from them either.

Blisters started to form from your ankles, adjusting to the new pair of heels Jaehyun gave (or insisted to buy) you a while ago after staring at them like lasers. You’ve always provided things for yourself that being spoiled by someone else felt weird to you.

“If there’s anything you want me to buy for you, just tell me.”

“How can I buy you if you’re already mine?”

His smooth talk often made you punch his shoulder, but it’s just a mechanism to hide the exhilaration.

Under each other’s spells in your dance, you laid your head on Jaehyun’s chest. Feeling the strong beat of his heart, you were reminded of how much life he’s filled with. And you became a part of it, in the same way he crossed yours.

Jaehyun’s lips sank to the top of your head, pecking it affectionately. The first-ever summer where he wasn’t stuck at his desk working or drinking his life away with his rich friends in their Parisian homes, it couldn’t get better than this.

“Oiii! Flirtez ailleurs!” (Oiii! Flirt somewhere else!) The distinct voice of Jaemin, handing out pastries to passersby, shouted at the both of you, making you flip your middle finger at him.

“Trouve une copine d’abord, d’accord?!” (Find a girlfriend first, alright?!) You shouted back jokingly, almost falling due to the ache of your feet. Your immodest behavior was censored by Jaehyun’s large palms, not wanting the kids around to see it. Whispering closely to your ear,

“Tu es ivre. Laisse-moi te ramener chez toi.” (You’re drunk. Let me take you home.)

You changed back into your sandals as Jaehyun led you through the different alleys. Your vision was too hazy to navigate, so he had one arm wrapped around your shoulders. The weather grew cold too, shivering your bones so he draped you in his blazer.

“Wait,” You stopped, making him do the same. But before he could ask for your reason, your hands yanked him by his suspenders and your legs walked backward to reach the brick wall. Standing in his 5’11 glory, you were overpowered.

Yet your lips captured his effortlessly, raising to your toes to press yourself closer to him. He moved fast, one arm hugging your waist while the other hoisted your leg up. Tangling around his waist, the urge to move your hips against his crotch couldn’t be contained any longer.

Everyone was probably still out at this time or sleeping. The sloppy sounds you’ve produced were beyond suitable for any audience. Not to mention, the nasty words Jaehyun’s pretty mouth spoke in your ears desired you to fall to your knees.

“Not afraid of getting caught, ma chérie? You want me to ruin you right here, right now?”

“God, Jaehyun,” Your hands tugged his belt forward, the friction it gave to your core twitched the naughty side out of you. “Do it, please.”

The idea of public sex thrilled your mind into overdrive, yet you’ve never done it. In Paris, a city where several people started to know your name, you didn’t need a scandal to be plastered in your resume yet.

Jaehyun himself included, and still opted not to give it to you.

“Another time, ma chérie. Your apartment, now.”

The moment you unlocked your apartment door, Jaehyun was far from gentle like in the mansion. Ripping you out of your frilly dress didn’t take long, so was unbuttoning his trousers down to the floor.

On your knees, his hand gave you a makeshift ponytail as your tongue flicked the slit of his cock. Then slowly taking him inch by inch on your mouth, you’d let out a loud pop when you needed to breathe. Your hands fondling his balls, he groaned from the edge of your bed and tightened his hold on you. Tears formulated in your eyes as you got to swallow him whole, uncontrollably bobbing your head.

He felt like putty when he released, your throat taking the salty base. You hastily unhooked your bra in front of him when suddenly, his hand flicked on the fabric of your panties, cueing you to stop your motion.

“Keep them on when you ride me.”

Straddling on his lap, his head laid against the headboard of his bed. His arms roaming around your back to stabilize you, your fingers pushed your panties to the side as you pushed yourself down his protected length. Your moans became shaky. Up and down, you bounced while bracing on his shoulders.

Against his ear, your moans were harmonious. His hips moved against your beat, hitting your g-spot like the sexual ace he is. His thumb rubbing your clit, you shuttered your eyes at the impending high approaching you like a bus.

“I’m close.” You choked out, the overstimulation overwhelming your nerves.

“Fuck, me too.” He grunted, slapping your butt that made you shriek.

Soon enough, everything hit you both all at once. The knot snapped, and so did your body falling on his chest after a single scream. Panting, Jaehyun pecked on your temple as his cock softened up. Once you returned to your senses, you lifted yourself from his length, laying bare beside him.

His eyes started to fall, but before they did, he muttered huskily. “Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

It was the first time he’s said those words in the way they meant, and he’s more than certain that it’s what he felt with you. Sure, it started as mutual infatuation, but now, it can’t leave. Not on his watch.

Love was a concept unfamiliar to you, but Jaehyun slowly taught you what it was and how it felt like. Books and films may give sneak peeks, but to personally give and receive it back was made possible by him.

From this moment on, you could conclude that yes, you reciprocated it.

“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”

16 octobre 1957

Autumn made its way to the countryside.

The leaves switched into red-brown shades, the weather in the south was warmer, and the wine harvest was highly anticipated. Jaehyun’s camera was a common item in your outings, taking as many photos as he could so the two of you had something to look back on.

Planned and candid, his range was wide. These were moments that proved that your youth was as happy as you wished it to be. You wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

Painting in his mansion was a regular thing, having new canvases prepared at his patio. There were so many items that amused you there like you could base your entire collection on his home. It’s not like Jaehyun could argue; it meant more time with you whenever you came over.

“Jaehyun, if you smudge paint on me, so help me Go-” He refused to listen to your “threats”, smearing black paint on your cheek.

“You were saying?” He cockily pestered, showcasing his paint-filled fingers. You dipped one of your brushes into the new paint and chased after him without hesitation. The entire evening became a paint war, a laugh fit even after seeing your reflections in the mirror. But before you could clean yourself, Jaehyun’s camera was by your face and he pressed the button.

“Still breathtaking.”

But the middle of the season arrived, that’s where your planned extension you’ve reached its end. The exhibit was next month, getting calls from your boss regarding your return and the paintings you’ll present. You informed her that you already had them mailed to your studio way back, so there’s nothing much to worry about.

All your bags were packed in the private car Jaehyun rented. Here, you’re bidding your goodbyes to every friend you’ve made outside the doors of your apartment complex, saving your last words with Jaehyun.

The night before, he stayed over and helped you pack your last items in luggage bags. He even brought extra clothes for you so you wouldn’t work extra. You’ve talked it out the whole evening through what happens next to ease your worries. In your bed, he opened the wide windows and pulled you under the sheets.

“Write to me.”

“Call me when you’re free, or whenever you feel like it.”

Leaning against the railing of the stairs, watched the sorrow in your face over this parting. He sensed how bittersweet everything was, but he wouldn’t change anything about it. He’s positive that your story won’t end here, not right now.

Sauntering to him, you sighed whilst taking your bag he held the whole time from him. His touch was tighter as the two of you hugged tenderly, nuzzling his head on your shoulder. The scent of his citrus cologne that implanted in your brain felt comforting, despite the uncertainty of everything between you.

You hinted a minty taste from the menthol candies from his home as his lips brushed yours, colliding it timely. He waited when everyone left, relishing these last seconds.

Stepping inside the vehicle, you waved your summer love farewell one more time before the driver hit the pedal. Your eyes couldn’t stray away from looking back, the distance between him and your former apartment widening. Only when he was no longer in the frame, you shifted your focus back in front.

Your fingers fiddled with the charm bracelet he gifted you from the market. It was custom-made by a jeweler who was great friends with his mother in his younger years. There were two pendants chained on it: a paintbrush and the sun.

“A paintbrush to remind you of your passion, and the sun to remind you of the summer we first met.”

The man was like one of his romance books, in human form. He knew how to catch your breath effortlessly.

Your stay, for now, may have concluded, but there was always next summer. And the ones after that. The village felt like a second home, one you can’t neglect like the other places you’ve lived. Then having Jaehyun here, the more reasons to return.

Undoubtedly the best vacation you’ve ever been in your adult years, one that didn’t sacrifice for your art so you could compete with other artists. The weight on your chest poofed into thin air, and you felt ready for what the next steps as a painter were.

Appreciating the greenery you passed by, you peeked over the side mirror of the car only to find Jaehyun quickly biking in your direction.

Now, what was he up to?

You instantly requested the driver to slow down his pace, rolling down the window of the car. Not caring about the strong winds, “You fool, what are you doing?!”

Although he trusted your last words, he had the greed to see your face again. It would be a long time until he’ll see you in person again. So he pedaled as fast he could to still reach you. Oh, the things you do when you’re in love.

“Mon cœur bat la chamade pour toi, (Y/N)!” [My heart beats loudly for you, (Y/N)!]

You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.

“Je reviendrai bientôt, Jaehyun!” (I’ll come back soon, Jaehyun!)

21 octobre 1957

Only your friends at the studio gave you a warm welcome back, receiving comments like “get back to work” from your first encounter with your boss. Popping a champagne glass open after work hours on the rooftop of your studio, they interrogated you with all the questions they could think of.

“So this village in Provence…. was it beautiful as the tourists said?” Ten, who moved from his home in Thailand to Paris at a young age, expressed his curiosity whilst leaning against the railing overlooking the Eiffel Tower.

“Beautiful is an understatement, Ten. I miss it dearly!” You heaved a sigh, twirling your glass.

“So this inspiration you were looking for…” Amélie, your dear friend since your university days, created some tension as she prolonged her last word. Playfulness twinkled in her eyes, crossing her legs. “Was a person involved by any chance?”

For a moment, your throat almost gagged on the sizzling alcohol going down.

“What do you mean?” You acted clueless, pouring your now empty glass with more booze. But the moment Ten gave you the troublesome look coordinating with Amélie, you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. These two were such gossips in and out of the studio.

Ten took the seat across you on the table and leaked all his pent-up information.

“So you know Seo Youngho, the only son of the Seo family. Rich, socialite, a total hotshot… yeah, all that jazz.” He dived in, seeing you nod over knowing that man. Someone in the past you’ve slept with, but that’s another story. “Well, Amelie and I attended one of his parties at his large penthouse. He had his usual crowd there; Kim Doyoung, Lee Taeyong, Nakamoto Yuta, and Lee Minhyung. But fun fact: there’s another member in that friend group who doesn’t go to these kinds of events.”

“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Amélie excitedly took off like the pipelette (chatterbox) she is. “Youngho, who was talking to us for a bit, asked where you’ve run off. Poor him, he must’ve missed you in his bed but anyway! We told him that you went down south somewhere in Provence for a break. Oddly enough, he mentioned how the mentioned member moved back there for the same reason.”

Ten and Amélie gave each other another frisky look, merely to piss you off. So predictable of them.

“Get to the point please!” You screeched.

“Jeong Jaehyun, ever heard of him?” Amélie imitated your tone of voice. “I mean, you should since you made a whole painting of him.”

“H-How,” Speechless, that’s what you were. Ten went on a fit of giggles, signaling the build-up of his intoxication.

“Youngho visited the studio to find a specific painting for his home, and we helped him in choosing. Then when your deliveries of paintings arrived that day and were unwrapped, the look on his face when he saw Jaehyun’s painting was priceless. Things started to add up, especially when he told us that he called up Jaehyun prior, he said that Jaehyun was seeing a girl during his stay there.”

“A young, burnt-out painter from Paris, to be specific.”

They’ve put you on the edge of the cliff, and it was too close to call it a coincidence. Of all things to be revealed, this had to be the first.

“Well, I was waiting for another time to tell you guys about him though.”

Their gasps of joy could give you guys a noise complaint by the neighbors, telling all about your escapades of him and you. During it, the more you missed seeing him daily either on his bike or his car. It was stuck in your routine, but now it’s reverted to your old one.

Could the next summer come any faster?

14 février 1958

Perhaps your newest collection at the Louvre was your most successful one yet.

Entitled “Inspirez, Expirez” (Breathe In, Breathe Out), your sceneries during your stay in the village varied. An old couple slow dancing under the night sky, and the quiet district of shops Jaehyun took you, those were some of your last additions.

A multitude of positive reviews on the newspapers and art magazines came in, commending on taking on a fresher, brighter outlook for a change whilst finding your spark again. As fulfilling it was, what you longed the most was the one responsible for it.

Lately, it’s been tough to contact him. His maids always answered the calls, informing you that he was busy with work or family matters. It’s so rare for him to act like this. Whatever it was, it wasn’t grand or serious hopefully.

Back to your collection, tonight was the last night of it. Just in time for Valentine’s day, where numerous socialite lovers embarked on this event, but you’re more fixated that it was also Jaehyun’s birthday. A boy full of love born on the day dedicated for it, things made more sense. In case, you’ve sent your birthday wishes to him through letter and passing the message to one of his maids. Even on his special day, he hasn’t reached out to you.

But to momentarily forget about that, there was a closing ceremony held for this exhibit with the other artists involved, and it was your turn to give your final remarks. More esteemed socialites and journalists were present, which didn’t halt your nerves the slightest. You were a professional after all, holding pride in your craft as you stood in front of the microphone wearing your new favorite custom-made gown.

There are perks when you have close friends in the fashion industry, specifically Kim “Key” Kibum from the House of Key. After defending him from a disrespectful client when you were picking up a dress for your boss during your internship years, not only did you earn his respect, but an invite to his shows and first claiming of new items from his collections. Dining in expensive restaurants in the metro was a plus, catching up on your lives. Sometimes calling each other out for your sexcapades too.

Speaking of him, he was in the crowd that night, ordering every photographer to take photos of your gorgeous self in one of his dresses. Or in your opinion, bribing some by how he stuffed a few thick stacks of Euro bills down their pockets.

Only one of it ever made. A dark green satin v-neck off-the-shoulder gown, where diamonds adorned your neck and ears and white stilettos kept your perfect balance. Also courtesy of Key.

Because it’s the winter season, he gifted you a limited edition white fur coat every socialite tried getting their hands on. Your hair was styled in a bun, emphasizing your dark tinted lips from this new lipstick Amelie insisted you buy.

Most people would get the first impression that you were one of the socialites, a child from one of the affluent families even. But you were a lot more remarkable than that, having inborn talent in the arts that you specialized over your youth and rising to the top without any parental help.

“Thank you to everyone for their endless support towards the magnificent collections of each artist present. As for mine, I am grateful to rechannel my creative side by taking a break. Rather than romanticizing overworking our bones to the core, there’s nothing wrong with taking a step back from the pressure. Being alive is a blessing, realizing further how our youth won’t stay with us forever. Being away from the boisterous cities, I found relaxation in the countryside of Provence.”

Your lips quirked into a grin as every single memory during that time reeled in your head like a movie. “The beauty of Provence cannot be simply put in words. The muses I’ve encountered were more than lovely, especially the man behind the Poetic Rose. With that, I sincerely thank everyone from my bottom of my heart and I hope to continue to support me in the years to come.”

The applause roared once you stepped down the platform, shaking hands with every esteemed guest with more gratitude as they praised you. These days, socializing with them was a lot easier. You’ve even taken more initiative to greet people first before they do, conversing with them easily about anything.

Key definitely noticed that as you toured him around your section, holding his nth glass of wine for the night.

“You, Madame (Y/N), transformed into a social butterfly.” He nudged your shoulder, smirking once he got a better view of his favorite painting from you. “I guess that’s the thing when you’re in love.”

“I beg your pardon?”

With this free hand, he motioned it up and down at the painting in front of you. “The Poetic Rose is none other than the youngest son of the Jeong family, whom I’ve met through his older sister, Krystal.”

“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know him?!” You stressed, jokingly. Key was elated to capture you in his trap, the changes of your personality too evident in his eyes. Figuring it out that it was love took a while, but being acquainted with Krystal, she’s the one who told him that her younger brother was in love with a painter in Provence. Do the math.

“I’ve met him through his older sister, one of my highly favored clients. He’s not much of a socialite like her, so I don’t really blame you for that.”

Searching for a waiter to refill your wine glasses, a surprise emerged the both of you.

“Madame Krystal, you’re absolutely stunning.”  Key complimented her, giving the engaged heiress of Jeong Tea Inc. kisses on the cheek as respect. Her recent engagement to Kim Donghyun, her childhood sweetheart and also the heir of Kim Couture, was the talk of the town.

They arrived at the event together, drawing the attention of everyone in the room earlier. Now, he was speaking to a few influential socialites he made a deal with this week about the art collections present.

“Key, you never fail to look fantastic,” She remarked positively, poking his necktie before placing her undivided attention on you. “So you must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’re beyond bewildering in that gown.”

“Flattered to hear that, Madame Krystal. Such a pleasure to meet you.”

The three of you chatted as if you were the only people there. From art, passion, and love, pride filled in your chest when you toured your collection. It was like walking down memory lane for her, adding out how she used to climb the peach tree with her younger brother during their childhood. Once her eyes laid on Poetic Rose, she took her time admiring it.

“My younger brother grew up well. That’s all I could ever hope for as his only older sister.” She paused, noticing how silent you became when you stared at the painting along with her. She observed the passion lit in your eyes, yet there was longing behind it by the way your lips pouted briefly. “You must really love him, do you?”

“I do, truly. After meeting him, not only was I boosted with so much ideas, but my heart embraced him for what and who he is in this universe.” You professed confidently, earning an approving smile from Krystal.

“If that’s how you feel, why not tell him that yourself?”

Her fingers gestured you to turn around. Stood in a grey suit with his brown hair slicked back, it was like seeing a completely new person. A handsome one though. His fashion in the countryside heavily differed from his fashion in the cities. So sophisticated and refined, he looked like a prince straight out of a fairytale.

Your fairytale.

“Jaehyun.”

It’s like everything stopped once he sprinted towards you, pulling you off your feet for a snug hug. Your arms threw themselves on his neck by instinct, not wasting a single second in his grasp. Your nose inhaled the woody scent of his cologne, something more formal than his usual fruity scent.

The smell of aftershave in his jaw couldn’t go ignored either, assuming that he must have had plans to go out tonight. Nonetheless, you squealed as if you were back in Provence, giggling at his boldness. Once he put you down, neither of you could get your hands off each other.

“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you’d be in Paris!” Clutching your waist, you gazed at him with doe-like eyes, instilling confusion.

“J’ai voulu te surprendre, my chérie.” (I wanted to surprise you, my darling.)

He chuckled, pushing some straying strands of your hair behind your ear. His eyes evoked so much endearment towards this elegant look you prepared, making his heart race as if he were in the gardens of his manor again.

Hearing his petname for you again attacked your heart every time no matter how much time passed, he lifted your chin high. Jaehyun urged himself to kiss you senseless right there, leaning lower. And yes, you anticipated it by how your eyes instantly closed.

Only if it weren’t for Krystal to clear her throat, obviously ruining the mood. Flinching away from your sensual lover, you rubbed the nape of your neck. Towards an heiress like her, it must’ve been unprofessional.

“Couldn’t you at least wait until I left, younger brother?” Her fingers flicked Jaehyun’s forehead, a teasing trick they used to do as kids. Even if she was a lot shorter now, it didn’t mean the impact was weak. He cursed under his breath, covering his forehead.

Stifling your laughter was a failure, crinkling your eyes to unleash your emotions. So this is what their sibling dynamic was like?

“Now excuse me, older sister. You didn’t tell me you were visiting the exhibit after my birthday dinner with our parents?” He crossed his arms, exchanging a judgmental look. For his sake, he wanted to maintain his pride. “All you said after dinner was that you were going straight home with your fiancé after all the alcohol mother gave you because it made you lightheaded.”

“Well, you know Key and his persuasiveness. He insisted I attend this event last minute because all the collections were amazing.” She explained, shedding a subtle glance at you. “Plus, it’s an excuse to finally meet this lovely girl you raved so much through your letters.”

Jaehyun kept his family life private, so this piece of information was new to you. The unpredicted way the fluttering feeling drew in your stomach, all you could do was smile from the flattery.

“He spoke about me to you?”

“More than speak, my dear. He practically professed his love for you, asking me advice on how to court a girl, make them smile, etcetera. You’re the first girl he’s been this affectionate with, and I completely understand now.” She patted your shoulder, hopeful. She had such a strong older sister vibe, reminding you of your older siblings back home. “You’re a clever, talented woman. I look forward to seeing you more often.”

As you nodded in approval, she turned towards her brother with her recurring teasing look. “Yah, Jaehyun. You better take care of her. If she ever sheds a tear because of you, I’m hunting you down in the gardens.”

“Harsh of you, Krystal.” He planted his hand on his chest, feigning pain. “But no worries. Having you and mother around me kept me well-mannered towards women growing up.”

Playfulness aside, Krystal felt honored towards her younger brother. Men these days maintained their sexist beliefs and rudeness, especially those who doubted her high position in the family business once her father stepped down. Nowadays, it’s men like Jaehyun who could really challenge the patriarchy and make women pursue a lot more than being limited as a housewife.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now please excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”

Krystal waltzed her way out without tripping from her slight intoxication, which Jaehyun worried about earlier. But anyway, that left him alone with you. Filled with so many questions, you didn’t know where to start.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Paris? Why didn’t you acknowledge my birthday wishes to you? Why aren’t you answering my calls and letters?” You blurted without wasting a breath, weren’t trying to come off as needy, but it became peculiar when he was contacting you like usual.

You pushed off thinking of the worst scenarios, not wanting it to ruin your drive and your emotions either. Yet you trusted Jaehyun enough to know he wasn’t the type of person either.

“Okay slow down, ma chérie.” His hands maneuvered for you to stop for a bit. “Ask me one by one and I’ll give you a solid answer for each while we roam around.”

He arrived in Paris last week, which was initially for work. Then his birthday clashing was a coincidence. It would be too lonely to go home and celebrate his special day alone, so he extended. But again, it’s his work that caused his abrupt contact.

When you were too busy delving into the success of recovering your inspiration, he also found his spur to write again too. Day and night, his mind kept him tedious with an endless trail of thoughts and words. Overall, he finalized it then brought the end product to the same publishing house where his books in the past went through.

In fact, he decided to publish them specifically today on his birthday. The only day in his itinerary he planned, where after publishing, he’d hang out with his friends, have dinner with his family then run off to reunite with you.

“I didn’t intend to make you feel like a second choice, so please forgive me for that, ma chérie.”

“All is forgiven, Jaehyun.” You held both his hands, kissing them tenderly out of habit. “I’m overjoyed that you rekindled your creative side again.”

You were so understanding and empathetic, and Jaehyun aimed to act that way too. He learned so much from you as his friend before being his lover. Quickly enough, you’re both back to his portrait in the center. Like a critic, he narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose. Tapping his chin with his finger,

“This man in Poetic Rose, he’s quite dashing.” He commented with conceit, walking closer to it to view it better. “His freckles are on point, his dimples and dazzling eyes too. Why exactly is he described as a Poetic Rose?”

“Well sir,” You stood beside him, imitating his actions. “This man here always spoke so eloquently, like he had a very poetic approach on life. He reminded me also of a rose by his rosy tinted cheeks and his beauty. He was alluring inside and out.”

“Is he your favorite muse?”

“I never quoted him as a muse because he’s more than that. Muses can be replaced once they no longer serve purpose towards the artist. Though with him, he’s the never-ending flame that I want to keep for the rest of time."

You held on to his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. The apparent reddening of his ears proved that he was flustered, yet you spoke no lies.

“Joyeux anniversaire, ma flamme.” (Happy birthday, my flame.)

“Merci beaucoup, ma chérie.” (Thank you, my darling.)

Something about his new release piqued your attention so you brought it up again.

“So tell me about your new book.”

“Let me show you instead.” Inside the blazer, there was an inner pocket that sealed a small hardbound book. Taking it out, he handed it over to you. “This is your copy.”

The cover of the book had an illustration of two young adults running down the fields under the bright sun, with the title written in cursive and placed in the center.

“L’Été de 1957.” (The Summer of 1957.)

Like a child who received a new gift in the mail, you flipped the book open. Seeing the table of contents and credits to other important people involved in the process, there was a detailed dedication right before the starting chapter. It’s an unexpected page, noticing that he never put anything like this in his last works.

“Pour ma chérie, qui a peint les couleurs manquantes de ma vie.” (For my darling, who painted the missing colors of my life.)

Although Jaehyun planned to write about the couples he met in the countryside, he chose to change his perspective. Instead, he based this new book on your summer romance, installing more original characters who made your romance blossom more.

“I was once so engaged in listening to people’s love stories, hung up on what they felt.” He expounded, pacing around the floor whilst you skimmed through the pages. There were black and white photos from your adventures too to wrap the reader further in the story.

“While I was struggling to find the next story, I realized late that my story with you was a perfect choice. When I fell in love with you, it’s like I didn’t have to fret anymore about anything. Everything slowly yet surely aligned into place for me. Like how we found inspiration in each other.”

A poetic speaker meant having a poetic, wise mind. You kept an open mind whenever Jaehyun shared his thoughts on life with you, an intimate time that didn’t require using your bodies. Whether you were stargazing or drinking wine by his patio, his soulful personality never changed.

“So I recapped every single memory we had and compiled them,” He resumed, taking a closer step towards yours. His warm hands grasped your waist again, catching a glimpse of your astonished face. Mostly, towards your lips that he missed feeling against his.

“This book expressed my own take on love this time, the one I want to grow in.”

You’d care less if you dropped the book and your coat right there, your major desire to kiss him again was driving your senses to the edge of a cliff. Nothing could’ve braced yourself the second you fervently collided your lips with his. It didn’t feel like you were in this exhibit, but somewhere back in his mansion engulfed in each other’s presence.

Your legs almost melted by your daring move, if it weren’t for Jaehyun’s arm moving upwards to your back to stabilize you more. Your body tingled with goosebumps due to his relaxing fingers all over your body. His tongue caved in your lips, and you couldn’t ban its access.

Such an explicit sight, it felt forbidden as you were inches away from the public crowd. Yet it was the least of your worries if they made a big fuss over it. Jaehyun was here again with you, and that was more valuable to you. He savored every trace of your touches, taking his delicate time with you. No past birthday could defeat this, especially when it’s the first one to celebrate with you. The first of many.

As much you wanted to keep this up for hours, your lungs started feeling constricted of air so your lips timidly let go. Though your hands couldn’t, your overwhelmed eyes couldn’t shift away from the heart-stopping view of your lover. Wherein even after such a fearless session, his eyes fused with love and need with his plumper lips.

“Everything about Provence, especially you, that’s the life I want.” You confessed this concealed secret that’s revolved your head for a while now. Yet its certainty was true.

“Are you sure, ma chérie? What about work?” As an artist, he believed you should stay where everything is accessible. Yet as his woman, he wanted you to follow your heart. Jaehyun didn’t want you to choose or struggle.

“I’ve grown out from the idea that the city life was the only life meant of an artist like me.” You replied, confident enough to discuss it after deep thought. “Cities like Paris hold exciting, vigorous flames that will have you clinging on to them. But then, they’ll eventually die the longer you stay. You get burned in the process too. However, I stand by what I said earlier. I found an endless flame when I met and began loving you, Jaehyun. It doesn’t sting at all; it illuminates strongly every living day.”

Urging him to lower his stance with your fingers, you stated one last phrase. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”

“If that’s the case,” Jaehyun acknowledged, sticking his arm out for you. “Let’s get out of here.”

Astounded expressions crowded the socialites in the event as they watched the both of you exit together. If the news of Krystal and Donghyun weren’t crazy enough, some journalists figured the mysterious man behind The Poetic Rose and spread it like wildfire.

How was the youngest son of the Jeong family turned renowned romance novel author connected to the impressive, up-and-coming painter from London?

What really went down in Provence?

“How can you miss out on the signs? Did you not see them share a kiss earlier?” Key protested to those who weren’t approving whatever relationship you guys had. He loved his tea but hated those who simply were money hungry. Wanting a chance to be a part of the rich family, only to fish them out of their riches sooner or later.

Meanwhile, the winter season didn’t stop any of you from roaming the streets of Paris. Moments like these were a preview of the future you’ve envisioned with Jaehyun. Youthful, free, and fiery, a love between two artists created more magic not just in their crafts but to those around them.

Promenading a street overlooking the Seine River, Jaehyun took out a smaller instant camera from his pocket and took a candid shot of you. Stunned, you slapped his chest with your bag.

“Hey! Just how many more things are hidden in your blazer?”

“Just my wallet and a few condoms. Why’d you ask?” He raised a suggestive brow, feigning good intentions.

You hummed, faking your deep thought mindset. “At this rate, I don’t think we’ll make it back to my apartment alive.”

Jaehyun tugged you by your coat, his lips hovering your ear to whisper. “If we call a cab right now, I can finger you in the backseat.”

You chuckled at his vulgar idea, but it seemed ideal. You loved the thrill of getting caught or having someone overhearing you two, just like him. Besides, his fingers don’t match up to yours when you touch yourself alone in your apartment. You bat your eyelashes, giving in.

“Deal.”

6 ans plus tard (1964)

Summer returned, the sun strongly smiling down to the plentiful flowers at your family garden. By the patio of your home, your canvas was already laid by the easel stand. Shades of yellow were applied first to symbolize the brightness of the day, following the outline of your desired scenery for this piece.

Dipping the brush in water to change colors, you took another glance at the breezy sky. Light blue with clouds resembling soft pillows, you inhaled gently as your brush faintly stroked the canvas again.

Your hair was tied in a bun, meaning that you’re in for a busy session. But a more soothing one as the jazz music flowed from the vinyl player inside. Stress was the last thing you needed right now.

“What’s madame artiste up to right now?” Your husband piped in from behind, placing down a tray of tea and crackers. With some top buttons of his white top left unattended, you glimpsed on his toned chest when he leaned down. But you mustn’t pry whilst working, even when temptation was calling your name repeatedly.

“The summer sunshine healed me of my discomfort, so I think it’s about time I painted again.” You chewed on the snack, looking back and forth to the view. As enchanting as all the flowers you and him planted over the years grew, you’re more amused by a little boy strolling around it with his magnifying glass and tiny wooden basket with his furry puppy by his side.

His tiny legs often troubled the two of you because he enjoyed spending time with nature. Only God knows what he found in the garden this time.

“Adrien est explorer encore. Devrais-je lui dire qu’il change de place, ma chérie?” (Adrien is exploring again. Should I tell him to change places, my darling?) Jaehyun cautiously asked, not wanting his 3 year old son to impair your perspective.

“Non,” (No,) You held on to his hand, kissing it sweetly. Although you peeved any unnecessary details found in your scenery in the past, Adrien was an exception. As his mother, it’s hard to say no to him unless necessary.

“Il est un garçon curieux, alors il devrait explorer et flâner où il veut.” (He’s a curious boy, so he should explore and wander wherever he wants.)

Life ever since you returned to the countryside shifted into something more precious than you imagined. From moving places constantly, you found a home to settle in for good. A home with overflowing love and inspiration. A home within Jeong Jaehyun.

Recently, you halted your work-related activities in Paris and came home because you were heavily homesick. It even affected your health as a whole. So you made adjustments with your schedules, postponing appearances to events to next year.

On the plus side, you could be more active as a mother to Adrien. It felt like you burdened Jaehyun to take care of Adrien most of the time because he mainly worked from home, wherein important people who wanted to meet him would have to fly out to the countryside.

Back and forth to Paris, your presence towards Adrien often lacked. Here came your biggest fear, which was Adrien forgetting you. But Jaehyun told you over and over again that it wasn’t the case. As he listened to every wrenching thought you had, but he’d combat it with heartfelt words of reassurance so you wouldn’t overanalyze things.

He vowed to love and take care of you when times get hard, and he will continue doing so.

Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?

It no longer did after getting married.

It gave more room to grow and breathe more life into it. When Adrien was born, he was the prime reflection of your and Jaehyun’s love. He mirrored his father’s physical traits but with a daring personality like yours. A perfect mixture, the world worked amazingly to bring a boy like him into your life.

“Maman! Papa!” Adrien bolted to where you and Jaehyun stood. From the clothes he wore, it’s very much clear that his father was in charge of it whilst you slept in the entire morning. Suspenders, capri shorts, a white shirt, and a red beret, he deserved his title as Jaehyun’s mini-me.

Jaehyun swelled with pride and love for his only son, peeking over what he brought to show and tell you both. “Oh Adrien, what do you have for us today?”

In his basket, there were 3 sunflowers stuck out from the edge. It’s been a while since you’ve seen some in full bloom, lowering your stance to get a more vivid view. He took them out to hand them to you and your husband.

One flower for Jaehyun and two for you. You let out a gasp, scrunching your brows to the center. He always gave one of each item to you and Jaehyun, never more or less.

“Ooh, deux fleurs pour Maman. Pourquoi, Rien?” (Ooh, two flowers for Mama. Why, Rien?) Jaehyun let his nickname out for his lips while you grasped his small hand.

“Well, I heard from Olivier next door that on his birthday, he gave extra flowers to his mother so he could have another sibling. And it worked!” He spoke so innocently, yet it hitched a choke from Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes widened from disbelief. The information he collected due to his curiosity, no boundaries truly.

“Le mois prochain, c’est mon anniversaire. Je me demandais si je peux avoir un frère ou sœur comme Olivier? Tu es toujours occupée, comme Papa. Je ne veux plus être seul, alors je veux une amie aussi.” (It’s my birthday next month, and I was wondering if I can have a sibling like Olivier? You are always busy, like Papa. I don’t want to be alone anymore, so I want a friend too.)

You exchanged looks with Jaehyun, not knowing how exactly to respond. Although you and Jaehyun did agree that you wanted more than one child when you were younger, neither of you brought it up again since your careers were always loaded with plans.

Adrien was a surprise child actually, conceived on the night where you and Jaehyun celebrated after L’Été de 1957 was announced to be the best-selling romance novel of the decade in the country.

In Paris at his family home, where his parents brought out all their prized liquor, the two of you drank the entire night away to the point Krystal and Donghyun had to push you away from each other from your public affections because their children were present.

But it didn’t stop you two once you reached his bedroom, far away from everything and everyone. And you’ll never change it.

“Oh, Rien,” You eased in, consoling him. “Je suis désolé. Mais c’est franchement une grande demande, n'est-ce pas?” (I am sorry. But that’s quite a big request, right?)

“Mom and I will think about it first, okay? Another kid is a big responsibility, and you’ll be their older brother. That’s another important job, can you do it well?”

“Yes, I can, Papa!” He beamed with glee, his covered head patted by his father after. As you placed the sunflowers beside your palette, Adrien then proceeded to ask you if he could paint with you like old times.

Never you refuse especially with his sparkling round eyes and chubby face that makes you want to squish every time.

As you lifted his light body to sit on your lap, you placed your brush between his stubby fingers and carefully aimed in whatever angle seemed fit so the painting process would run smoothly and perfectly. He let out sounds of amazement when the strokes get bigger, jumping slightly too because the picture became more vivid. You’d smile and coo at him, commending whenever he followed instructions well. As his mother, you only encouraged your child in whatever they want to excel in.

Adrien was the child of two artists, so it was only natural that he had an artistic side in his veins.

Too caught up in your fun, hearing the automatic shutter of the camera from your side was delayed. The source was none other than Jaehyun hiding behind his camera. Jaehyun’s heart soared at the heavenly view of the most important people in his life, wanting to treasure the moment as a lovely memory.

“Hey!” You shouted, placing down the messy brush by the palette. “Je suis très laid!” (I am very ugly!)

“Shh! Tu est rayonnant, ma chérie. Papa est juste, Rien?” (Shh! You are glowing, my darling. Papa is right, Rien?)

Jaehyun politely quizzed the peppy boy, nodding excitedly. His dimples deeply showed up, the main trait he claimed from his father.

“Oui, papa! Maman est toujours belle!” (Yes, papa! Mama is always beautiful!)

He exclaimed, pecking your cheek numerously. You squealed, attacking him with tickles and kisses back. His shouts of delight, then he was suddenly carried by your tall husband in the air like he was flying in the sky. Adrien enjoyed that motion highly, ending up on Jaehyun’s shoulders shortly after to play by the garden again.

“Go paint. I’ll take care of him now.” Jaehyun persuaded, roaming through the long rows of flowers in full bloom. Though seconds after adding some strokes to your piece, you let down your hair, put a hat and sandals on, and ran to the cute duo to join them.

And that’s how your family spent the entire afternoon. By the garden, running around and taking photos and short videos from Jaehyun’s camera. Freezing these valuable memories, this was truly the life you loved so much.

After your break, you could convince the company you worked at that you’d prefer fewer trips to Paris and stay in the countryside longer. How badly you’ve wanted to hold your exhibits here instead. Plus like Jaehyun, let influential people visit you. You’ve already made a big name for yourself now, so that should be valid enough.

Dinner time passed by quickly too, eventually putting Adrien to a smooth slumber as you massaged the roots of his soft hair while Jaehyun sang him a lullaby. This was your joint parenting technique with him since he was a newborn, and it worked quickly as lightning.

You redressed into your silk nightgown after bringing your canvas to the master bedroom, opening the balcony doors to invite the cool breeze in. You tweaked some bits of your painting, including a silhouette of your small family. Regarding where to place it, probably by the living room as it matched the theme.

“What a spectacular day, don’t you think, ma chérie?” Jaehyun conversed, admiring the calm movements of your brush. He noticed a quirky smile grace your lips.

“It’s been a long time since we had quality time like that with Rien. He’s a feisty ball of energy these days.” You replied with a nostalgic daze. “It’s so crazy how one day, he was still crawling to us. Now, he could outrun the both of us.”

“Comme le temps passe vite, hmm?” (How time flies fast, hmm?) Nodding, nothing braced for what your husband had in mind. You almost dropped your brush mid-way. Jaehyun’s lips impatiently devoured your neck, his huge hands fondling your breasts. Violently throwing your head back against his chest, a needy moan parted your lips.

“Jae-” His touches reaching south to where you desired him highly, dampening hastily as your legs naturally spread apart. Rushed exhales, “À quoi tu penses maintenant?” (What are you thinking about right now?)

“Rien se sent seul,” (Rien feels alone,) His hot breath whispered against your ear, his fingers dangerously trailing your thin panties up and down. With your hands tightly clutching on his bicep,

“Alors, donnons-lui une amie.” (We should give him a friend.)

Ever since Adrien mentioned such a daring topic, it hasn’t left Jaehyun’s mind the whole day. After seeing you in utter bliss with your son earlier, he found you so majestic and radiant. It’s a different kind of happiness, especially for parents.

Now you went on hiatus, he thought that it was the right time to have another. He enjoyed his younger years with Krystal, and he wanted Adrien to experience it too. 3 years was quite a wait, and it seemed ideal to try again.

From his nude chest, you flipped around to intensely clash his lips with yours. Draping your arms behind his neck, Jaehyun lifted your entire figure from the chair. His hands gripping on your butt, he delicately lowered you down your bed.

Drowning into his sensual kisses with his hands all over you, this could prolong for hours. Reddening love marks started to resurface whilst your fingers tugged on the drawstring of his pajama pants. Jaehyun’s fingers dove under the fabric of your panties, his index finger rubbing figure 8s the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You struggled to swallow your moans, not wanting Rien to hear it. You wouldn’t want to repeat history, covering it as Jaehyun massaging you after a hard day.

“I know you want one too, ma chérie.” His fingers began to drape down the straps of your gown, presenting your breasts in its full, perky view. But before his lips could suck on your erect nipples, you parted momentarily from him and got up on your feet. Pulling up your straps again, Jaehyun simply laid down but he wasn’t pleased from how you left him hanging.

“Où vas-tu, ma chérie?” (Where are you going, sweetheart?)

He was growing impatient. You were never to interrupt such a sexy atmosphere ever.

From one of your drawers in your vanity table, an important, half-opened envelope was hidden. You were supposed to give it tomorrow but now seemed like a perfect time. Reading it as soon one of the maids handed it to you gave you the jitters, but in a positive way. Sitting back down on the edge of your bed, you exhilaratingly passed it to your husband.

“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” (What is this?)

“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)

Jaehyun slowly opened the edges and once he took out the contents. Reading it thoroughly, he couldn’t believe it as his jaw dropped, pacing from the letter and you back and forth.

“Vraiment, ma chérie?” (Really, my darling?)

It was from a doctor you visited in Paris a few days before you left, who confirmed just exactly what caused your health to go feeble suddenly. You already had one certain suspicion, which you addressed in your leave of absence letter. Amelié, who finally got the position as the head, couldn’t believe her ears and insisted you take all the time off you needed.

“On dirait que Adrien a reçu son cadeau d'anniversaire en avance.” (It looks like Adrien received his birthday gift early.)

Overall, it turned out the headaches and repeated vomiting you mistook as motion sickness from traveling was a surprise hello to your second child.

A girl specifically, thanks to the blood test she recommended.

“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

“Montre moi combien tu m’aimes, Jaehyun.” (Show me how much you love me, Jaehyun.)

The whole night through, the two of you vigorously celebrated with the moonlight from the windows and a few scented candles set in the room. Wet kisses left on your collarbone, words of devotion exchanged, holding his hand as he groaned from heartily thrusting in you, the number of moans from your lips overlapped with the vinyl playing in the room. The intimacy between you two increased, almost as if you made love for the first time again all those years ago.

Excluding being drenched from the rain.

Once the two of you grew tired, Jaehyun lied down beside you. Wrapping one arm around, one hand trailed down your naked skin again. His wedding band flashed your eyes, reminding you of the commitment you promised each other. For better, and for worse.

Jaehyun promised to love you endlessly as a woman and his wife, and it didn’t cease when you became the mother of his children. He respected how strong you are, physically and mentally. He helped you in any way he could as you endured the struggling process.

At the end of the day, his family was his biggest priority. More than ever now, you needed him as you go through the pregnancy phases again. Specifically, his index finger lingered on your stomach. There was no bump or other signs of showing, except for that glow he complimented you earlier on.

“We met and fell in love over the summer, got married in summer, had Adrien mid-summer, and now found out about our daughter at the start of summer.” He smiled, blessed at all the good he’s received during this time.

“The summer gods must adore us.” Your vacant hand with your wedding band topped his. To love and to cherish. “Ils m'ont amené à toi.” (They brought me to you.)

His power on you was simply addicting, as if your early twenties revisited you. You straddled himself once again, your fingers caressing his face sweetly. When it reached his lips, he placed longing kisses there and pulled you closer again for another kiss on your lips. In between, you mumbled in a silvery tone,

“Then they led us to say I do. Pour toujours et à jamais.”

copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.

[mimi-cee-hq]

A Glimpse of Yellow: Suna x f!reader - Chapter 9

« Chapter 1 | ‹ Chapter 8 | Masterlist

Read on AO3

Relationships: Suna x f!reader, mostly platonic!Inarizaki x f!reader (the relationships in the tags could be platonic or romantic :) )

Summary:

When the twins assumed you were dating Suna, he went along with it and you had no idea why.

***

Despite being Atsumu’s best friend, you barely knew his aloof and nonchalant teammate. Suna only made the occasional comment on the twins’ antics when you were around.

So when you needed a way to escape from the twins’ interrogations –including one about your longtime crush because you were definitely over him– Suna offered to walk with you after school to provide a way out. This raised a few eyebrows including yours.

Things got even stranger when the twins assumed you were dating Suna. And for some reason, he went along with it.

Genre, etc.: fluff, romance, friendship, getting together, fake dating, slow burn, acquaintances to friends to lovers, canon compliant, eventual angst but it’s the shoujo type

Words: 2.0k

*****

You bit your lip as your eyes darted around the classroom. Students shuffled from their desks, milling around the room before streaming into the hallway. You let out a breath when you saw Suna still at his desk, chatting with Osamu.

"I shouldn't be your boyfriend."

Your shoulders sagged as you remembered Suna's words. Why did he say that? Surely he only meant that you should stop pretending to date. You continued to remind yourself of this, but the knot in your stomach was stubborn; it didn't want to go away.

You knew that there wasn't any point to continuing this charade. You had already resolved things with Atsumu, so you didn't need Suna's help any more. But why did he have to say it like that? Otherwise, you would've given the gift to him that very day.

Things had also gotten busier for the both of you. Tests seemed to come all around the same time and both of your teams were getting ready for the preliminaries. Despite that, you had often tried to catch him after classes only to glance to your left and see an empty desk.

You felt as if there was a rift between the two of you, one that made its way unnoticed. Was pretending to date the only thing holding the two of you together? Was that all your relationship amounted to?

You shrugged off those thoughts, telling yourself they weren't true. The two of you had fun together, playing volleyball, grabbing after school snacks, watching videos together on his phone, and listening to his latest playlist. You gripped your yellow gift bag once again and glanced at Suna's desk.

Osamu's eyes perked up when he saw yours longing after Suna. "I think Y/n wants to talk to you," he said with a smirk. "Don't take too long and have Kita mark you as late." He gave Suna a nudge before he left the classroom.

You took a few steps and stood beside his desk, fidgeting with the edge of your uniform.

"Hey," you told him, taking small glances at him.

"Hey," Suna said. He didn't look up at you, busying himself with packing his belonging.

"How have you been?" you asked softly. You bit your tongue once you heard your own words. "Why did you say it like that?" you scolded yourself. "Now it sounds like you haven't seen each other in years."

Suna stopped putting his textbook into his bag but didn't give an answer either. He let out a sigh before saying, "I'm alright."

"Oh." You lowered your eyes and stared at his desk. "That's good to hear." Shifting your weight, you asked, "So you got practice today?"

"Yeah." Suna didn't add anything else.

You frowned as you took a peek at his face. "Why is this so hard? It feels as if I'm starting from scratch again… Back to when he was just another guy on the boys' volleyball team."

Ding.

You had a notification on your phone. It was from Suna. You raised your brow at him and he held up his phone prompting you to check his message.

"Pfft." It was a picture of Atsumu yelling at Osamu while his hair and clothes were drenched in water.

"That happened last year," Suna told you. "Atsumu had kept complaining that it was too hot."

You snorted out a laugh, surprised that Suna had caught this on camera. You wished you had thought to capture moments like these as well.

"You can use this as blackmail if you want," Suna added nonchalantly. "I haven't posted that one yet." He took a quick glance at your smile before putting the textbook in his bag.

His shoulders hung as he stared into his bag. "Did you–" Suna stopped mid-sentence and turned his head away from you. He shrugged his bag onto his shoulder. "I should get going."

Before he could leave, you snatched his hand. You didn't want him to go yet – not when you haven't talked to him in so long.

But at first contact, he yanked his hand out of yours.

You both froze. Suna widened his eyes while your hands were still suspended in front of you. His mouth opened slightly as if he was going to say something but he instead bit his lip and clenched his hand.

He left the room.

The pit in your stomach deepened and strength left your arms. You bit your lip to steel your expression. There were too many people around.

What had just happened?

*****

Bump. Set.

The team started off with a few drills to warm up, peppering being one of them. Suna stood several feet away from Atsumu as they took turns receiving, tossing and spiking the ball to each other. He could hear his teammates calling for the ball as they practiced with their partners.

His eyes lit up after taking a glance at the stands.

Spike.

"Suna!"

Atsumu noticed that he wasn't watching the ball but it was too late because his arm was already in the middle of its swing. The ball hit Suna's head and went towards the wall to the side.

Atsumu froze, not knowing how to react. Kita and Ginjima had also witnessed the hit, being right next to them.

Suna blinked a couple of times as they stared at him. "I'm alright," he said. "It wasn't that hard anyway."

"Pfft.” Ginjima couldn't help but laugh.

Atsumu grimaced at him. "We're just warming up!" he yelled, directing his index finger at Ginjima. "Of course I didn't hit it that hard!" When he didn't stop laughing, Atsumu snapped. "I'll spike your head off the next time I serve at you!"

Suna's lips faked a smile, but even that disappeared as he stared blankly at the gym floor. He thought he had seen you in the stands. You weren't coming; he had stopped himself from asking you.

He had never thought to invite you before because you would often see each other during your walks together. But now that he had decided to stop, his eyes often scanned the stands.

He sighed because he recognized this feeling, recalling his last middle school tournament. She never showed up. But this was different. You never came to watch in the first place, yet this somehow felt worse. Was it possible to miss something that never happened?

Suna went to pick up the stray ball when Aran entered his peripheral as he practiced with Osamu. He shifted his eyes away before taking a slow pace back to Atsumu.

You went over to Aran's house often. You even befriended his brother. That didn't surprise Suna but it had left a sour taste in his mouth the day he saw you chatting with Aran.

He needed to get a hold of his feelings. It pained him to see your stunned face when he had pulled away from you. He had shared that photo of Atsumu with you to cheer you up only for his efforts to be in vain. He didn't want you to suffer from losing a friend because of his own feelings. He only needed some time to compose himself. Just a bit more time.

If he kept running into you, he didn't know what he'd do. He didn't want to find out.

*****

"Thank you very much!" you told the lady at the register as she handed you your chicken skewers. The paper bag holding them was smaller than usual. There were only two pieces today instead of four.

You had been studying in the school library for the upcoming test. You had no idea how you'd pass. Sighing, you knew this wasn't the time to be worrying about Suna either.

The sun had turned the sky orange and a passing train blocked your path. You smirked, remembering the last time you were stuck waiting for the train, but right now, it seemed like Suna was the one avoiding you.

It shocked you when Suna flinched and swiped his hand away. You didn't understand why he reacted that way. Did he want to make it clear that you weren't pretending to date anymore?

You felt knots in your stomach again. You didn't even know why he went along with that fake relationship in the first place. Was he bored and thought it would be fun to play along? Did he think you were a bother now? What if he was just trying to make someone else jealous. What if it was a dare.

You were doubting him. You felt horrible about it. He hadn't shown himself to be the kind of guy who'd treat you this way, but you couldn't think of any other explanation. Maybe you didn't really know him and viewed him through rose-coloured glasses.

You bit your lip as you rubbed your eye with the back of your fingers. What were you supposed to do now?

A familiar row of picnic tables came into your view. You weren't even walking in the right direction. But you noticed a purple bicycle and you raised your brow. You saw Karin wearing a yellow scrunchie in her hair as she swung her legs on the swing.

"And then my art teacher forgot to bring the…," Karin's voice trailed off but stopped when she noticed you weren't listening as you sat in the swing beside her. She dragged her feet in the sand to stop the momentum, and pulled out her phone, swiping her thumb.

"Y/n, look!" she said, holding her phone out to you. "Hana-chan showed me her hamster during Golden week. Isn't she cute?"

Any other day you would have been excited to watch the video with her. Instead, you gave her a weak smile to at least show you appreciated the effort.

"Hey. Maybe you should come over to my house!" she suggested. "Let me teach you something this time!" She nudged you with a smile.

"Is that alright?" you asked, not minding the distraction. "I don't want to impose."

"Of course it is!" she replied. "My mom loved it whenever I brought my friends over. They came over all the time! She'd be excited to meet you!"

After you told your mom about your plans, Karin clung onto your arm and marched you to her house.

"I'm home!" Karin announced as she opened the door. "I brought a friend!"

Her mom step out of the kitchen to greet you.

"I'm in the middle of a call right now," she told you and Karin as she covered the phone. "I'll properly greet you when I finish up here, but make yourself at home."

As you removed your shoes, you noticed a pair of heels with some men's shoes lying on their side. A gym bag flopped next to them. Looking up, a tall house plant hunched over at the bottom of the stairs and a pair of black socks didn't quite make its way up the steps. One hung off the edge of the staircase.

"We can wait upstairs in my room," Karin told you.

Once there, you didn't expect to see posters and posters of the same group of four boys plastered on her walls.

"I knew you liked them but it's a little different seeing it in person," you commented.

"But you know this guy right?" Karin said, pointing to the one with black hair on the poster. "He's the second lead in that drama right now!"

You squinted your eyes before smirking. He did look a little familiar.

"Where's the bathroom?" you asked Karin.

"It's right across the stairs."

As you made your way there, you passed by a bookshelf with a half-finished knitting project, a mug full of paint brushes, and a few small cardboard boxes. You also couldn't miss the large stuffed Hello Kitty beside the bathroom door.

You placed a hand on the knob when, to your left, you heard a door click open.

Turning to the sound, your heart soared and sank at the same time. You forgot how to breathe.

"Rintarou! Karin! Dinner's ready!"

:D

*****

Chapter 10 ›

Okay, please tell me your reaction. I've been dying to share this part of the story for so long! lol!

Like usual, here’s the Google form for my taglist if you want to be notified when I post the next chapter. You can also send me an ask if you want to be added to the list.

[slasherboyos]

Different World | Chapter Nine

Word count: 3300+ (adsgf there is a reason for why I split chapter eight)

Date posted: August 6, 2021

Warning: Cursing

“Different World” masterlist: Link

Fanfic Playlist: Link

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Note: A nice chapter, but an important one! Also, there is some dialogue that seems incorrect, but it’s like that for a reason; just giving a heads up just in case! As always, feedback is appreciated!

Marko’s boots stomped down the dirt steps that led into the hotel. The plastic utensils in the Coca-Cola box of Chinese takeout were heard clashing with each other when he jumped down that final ledge.

“Feeding time,” He loudly called, announcing his return with dinner. “Come and get it!” You grumbled as you sat up; you were this close to falling asleep during this small pocket of calm, but, of course, proper sleep continued to elude you. That Walkman you have been thinking about buying was starting to become all the more enticing. In your tired state, you stayed put at the far left side of the couch as Marko distributed the food with a pair of chopsticks in his mouth. Dwayne sat on the other side with Laddie sitting between you two. You put your elbow on the armrest, resting your chin on your palm.

“Tired of me already,” Paul jested, gesturing to the empty spot beside him where you usually sat during meal times. You rolled your eyes and lazily stuck your middle finger at him with the same hand that held your head. David placed himself in his shirt-covered wheelchair. 

“I’m not getting up,” you flippantly grumbled, leaning in further into the armrest. Your strained eyes watered as you yawned. 

“Your grace, the finest of meals,” Marko chirped. You gave Marko a sleepy amused look at his exaggerated bow and horrible attempt at a posh British accent as he handed you a carton with a pair of chopsticks. You propped yourself up and leaned comfortably against the backrest, bringing your legs up to lay on their sides. You opened the flaps, stomach tightened from hunger, mildly excited to see what he brought you. He, indeed, did know what you liked. You offered some to Star, which she declined as per usual, before you dug in, starved without the help of your usual early-evening snack.

David offered some food, a carton of rice, to Michael, which was refused at first. However, through the power of peer pressure, Michael accepted the carton and a clear, plastic fork. While you may not have approved David’s methods, you were glad to see Michael eating something. You chewed your food and swallowed it. You closed your eyes in complete bliss, finally being able to get your food intake for the night. There was a chance that Laddie may not finish all of his food, so you silently plotted to take it when he was full. It would be a pity for that delicious takeout to go to waste, after all. Plus, it would help decrease the amount of food waste amongst you. 

“How are those maggots,” David asked quickly and nonchalantly, which had a very casual tone compared to the substance of his question. The boys laughed and you groaned. You leaned back against the backrest, watching, knowing the direction that this was taking. Of course, they were not going to let Michael enjoy his first meal with them without a little bit of hazing. 

“What,” Michael inquired, not comprehending the bizarre statement he heard. 

“Maggots, Michael. You’re eating maggots. How do they taste?” Paul had no shame in continuing to chuckle. You hid your growing smile behind your hand. Given the countless times that David had pulled this trick on you, it was strange seeing him do it to someone else. 

Michael gave David an incredulous smile before looking down to come face to face with a carton of what you could assume were squirming maggots in his eyes. Almost immediately, Michael dropped the carton and spit out the rice in his mouth and the cave erupted in howling laughter. Even David was almost doubling over with how hard he was laughing. You, much to your shame, also quietly chuckled, trying to stay quiet as if you were not finding this a little entertaining. He was so unsuspecting unlike you. While you knew from the start that they were vampires—though, you did not realize their mind-based abilities at first—Michael was oblivious, so he did not catch on as quickly as you did. Well, he did not catch on at all.

Star did not find this heckling as enjoyable. 

“Leave him alone,” she begged, unhappy with the boys’ treatment of Michael, not that anyone listened to what she had to say. Michael realized that the rice was not a pile of maggots, but just plain old white rice. He looked up before looking back down at the mess, really trying to process that it was just rice. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” David gave an empty apology and you rolled your eyes. “No hard feelings, huh?” Michael swallowed his pride and answered,

“No.” Wow, this guy really wants to get on David’s good side. Michael was, at least, tame enough to take it in stride, unlike you. While his initial reaction was worse than yours, at least he did not immediately yell out profanities. David stuck his chopsticks in his noodles. 

“Why don’t you try some noodles?” The boys started laughing again. You waited patiently to see what trick David was pulling out of his sleeve. 

“They’re worms,” Michael deadpanned and you exhaled. They had an obsession with squirmy bugs, it seemed. 

“What do you mean they’re worms?” David dug through the carton, playing dumb to Michael’s concerns. 

“You’re still doing this,” you uttered. You sighed, “the joke’s over, guys!” Michael tried to warn him to not eat the so-called worms, but David used the chopsticks to shove more noodles in his mouth. He chewed on them obnoxiously before grinning, content with how he got under Michael’s skin.

“They’re only noodles, Michael.” Michael snatched the carton and looked through it, only to find just noodles. He must have thought he was losing his mind! To your surprise, he did not ask any questions and took it all at face value. You were a little worried about how easily he was absorbing this. 

“You’re an ass, David.” He ignored your insult, which was probably in your best interest. 

“Nice worms,” Dwayne mocked amongst the snickering. You reached over Laddie and swatted Dwayne’s chest with the back of your right hand, which he hissed at, though he was not in any pain from your back-handed attack. “(Y/N) is being mean again,” he tattled on you to nobody in particular. You raised your hands, physically expressing your annoyance.

“Are you tattling on—what are you, a child?”

“That’s enough,” Star asserted, which Paul responded to with, 

“Aw, chill out, girl,” While Star had not liked this from the start, you were drawing the line here. While the prank was harmless, they did not need to be ridiculing Michael this much. 

And you were not a fan of Paul brushing Star off like that.

You picked a small pebble and aimed for him, landing on his neck. “Hey,” he whined, but you could not care less about it.

“You’re all a bunch of asswipes!” You complained, swallowing what you had been chewing. “I am so sorry, Michael.” Michael appreciated your apology, though he was still embarrassed and very confused by what just happened. “They did the same thing to me, you know. Made me think I was eating caterpillars instead of french fries. And then Paul ate the fries that I dropped.” You threw your head back to get more food in your mouth as Paul chuckled, still clearly proud of himself for getting that reaction out of you when he had picked up the soiled french fry and popped it in his mouth. “They still pull shit like this with me all the time.” 

Your gaze had drifted to Paul, who had his hand in the carton. Your warm smile—which appeared from reminiscing—dropped and your expression morphed into a disgusted one. You knew for sure that he did not wash his hands before deciding to use one as an eating utensil. With a disappointed sigh, you pinched between your eyebrows, exasperated, and expressed,

“Are you kidding—are you eating Chinese takeout with your bare hands?” He put the carton to his mouth as if he was drinking out of a cup.

“Why am I in trouble?” He spoke with a mouth full of fried rice and gestured to Dwayne, who was sitting beside you. Dwayne, now the one being put on the spot, froze, caught red-handed with his hand in his carton, and picked up some noodles. You scrunched up your nose and furrowed your brow. How you did not notice that happening right beside you was a mystery.

“Really? I expected this from Paul—”

“This is bullying!”

“—but not you!” As if to spite you, Dwayne picked up some of his noodles and shoved it into his mouth with a cheeky smile. “Marko is using a pair of chopsticks! Marko! And he’s...” You vaguely gestured to him. “Marko!”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Marko yapped. You pointed at him accusingly. 

“You know exactly what that means.” You were alluding to how much of an instinctual person he was. You were surprised with how he did not immediately stick his hand in his food without taking off his gloves when he opened his carton. “Michael, you know what he did the first night I was here?” Michael shook his head, almost smiling at the sight of you putting them in their place. “He threw a pigeon at me. A pigeon!” Everyone, including you, laughed at the fond memory, Marko being the loudest as he caught himself by putting a hand on his knee. When David calmed down, recalling the shocked expression you had when the bird was tossed at the back of your skull, he gave you a seemingly genuine smile. Seemingly.

You intentionally tried to make him feel more comfortable with your story of the pigeon attack. There was a part of you that did not like how he was to become a vampire against his will. While you could not do anything to change that, you could at least be a friend and hold out an olive branch.

Besides Star, Michael noticed how you were showing legitimate consideration towards him while the boys were messing with him with no restraints. You, while taking part in all of this heckling, had the decency to apologize and had your limits. He was still intimidated by your presence but realized that you may not be as menacing as you may appear. In contrast to your piercing stare, your smile lit up the room and you were a fun person to be around.

Of course, he was unaware as to just how doomed to stay with this group of misfits he was. He may have to deal with this taunting for the rest of eternity.

You picked up another pebble. It hit Marko's left temple and somehow landed in his food.

“Get fucked, pigeon-thrower,” you slandered.

“Ow! Dwayne’s right, you are bein’ a bitch!” 

“Oh, you’ll get over it.” You picked up a third small rock and leaned forward to get a clearer shot. You harshly threw it onto Dwayne's bare chest. 

“What was that for,” he complained, mouth full of noodles. 

“Talkin’ shit about me.” 

“I never called you a bitch!” Okay, maybe it was fun just being a general nuisance towards them, but that was not going to be something you said out loud. To keep things even between them all, you picked up one more for David. As you aimed, he put up a finger to make you pause. 

“Do you really want to do that,” he challenged. Unluckily for him, you found entertainment in doing things out of spite. However, Unluckily for you, he caught the rock with a gloved hand and threw it back at you with force. You laughed with a mild shriek as you tried to shield yourself, but it hit your left shoulder. 

“Ow,” you exclaimed and rubbed the ambushed area of your arm.

“You’ll get over it,” he mocked, repeating what you had said to Marko. 

“You see what I have to deal with, Michael,” you joked. Paul threw the remaining fried rice in his carton at you. “Don’t throw food, dipshit! You'll get it in the cushions!”

“It’s maggots, (Y/N),” Paul teased. You took hold of a small display pillow, one that you have been sleeping with, and threw it at Paul. Too bad you missed. Paul mockingly said, 

“Try again!”

David was lost in thought before he called out to Marko and whispered something in his ear as the excitement died down, the tone of the night changing drastically as silence engulfed the cave. You could decipher what was said. Marko nodded enthusiastically, giving a quick once-over towards everyone, before leaving and coming back with an ornate wine bottle. 

Star became visibly concerned, quickly making her way to Michael’s side. Her reaction was enough for you to mirror that worry. There was no way they were going to turn him tonight, right? Getting Michael drunk to make the process easier hardly seems like the best strategy, if that was what they were doing. Plus, he did not seem like a wine guy.

David, with as much flair as he could muster, popped the cork and drank from the bottle. He opened his eyes, his gaze on Michael intense. He’s dramatic; I’ll give him that. You thought.

“Drink some of this, Michael,” David pressured, offering him the bottle. He quieted and harshly whispered, “be one of us.” You could almost see the ellipses that appeared in Michael's head. You were glad you were not the only one who found the dramatic nature David was talking with anticlimactic. Michael stood from the fountain and gingerly took the bottle from David by the neck. As Dwayne and Paul began to chant Michael’s name, Laddie stood and ran away, granting you another reason to be concerned. Marko joined in. Star moved closer to Michael; you swear that she was just about ready to jump out of her skin with how skittish she was being. 

“Michael,” David called, egging him on. 

“Yeah, sure,” Michael responded before putting it up to his mouth and taking quite a few large gulps of it. The boys cheered with David yelling, “Bravo!” Star took a step back, shielding Laddie with her left hand. You could not understand why she was so nervous, so afraid. It was just a little bit of wine! Are they seriously trying to get him drunk? Maybe you have overestimated the boys’ planning skills.

Or, this was just a part of their initiation. They could be building up to the actual turning, but all you can do for now is speculate. Hopefully, you will remember to ask one of them about it later.

“Your turn, (Y/N).” You swiftly turned your head to face David, not expecting the spotlight to turn to you.

“Me?” Why did they want you to drink from the bottle? It was not as if you were the one who was going to start walking amongst the undead as one of them; Michael was the one who was joining the clique. 

“It's like an initiation,” Paul explained. “Drink it and you're officially one of us, sugar!”

“And don’t think that you’re done, Michael,” David warned as he handed you the bottle. He made brief eye contact with you before returning to look at Michael. “(Y/N) has already gone through it all; you’ve still got to show us that you’ve got what it takes.” Michael took a glimpse at you. 

“What it takes,” Michael pressed.

“To be one of us, Michael.”

“And I have what it takes,” you asked. No one denied the statement. You were not sure what specific qualities they saw in you and what they may have considered a test of your worth, but you apparently fit the bill.

“Why else would we be having such a special dinner, (Y/N),” David stated. You chortled. It was not as if they served you a five-star meal from some fancy restaurant that only takes patrons that are dressed to the nines. Well, it was in such a fancy hotel, though collapsed, so maybe you could let it slide.

“All this is for me,” you entertained his statement. 

“It is if you drink from the bottle,” Marko answered, sitting on the armrest and leaning towards you, giving you a prying look with raised eyebrows. You let out a hefty chuckle before looking down at the bottle in your hand, swishing the liquid in a clockwise motion, feeling the weight of it as it moved. With it in your hand, you got a closer inspection.

Though tacky, it was a beautiful vessel. It was a clear, glass bottle that was covered in gold plating. Over that, red and white gems decorated it. The red drink inside of the bottle was a vibrant red, bright and alluring. It made sense that they would choose such a drink. 

Beginning with Dwayne, the boys chanted, growing louder with each one,

“One of us! One of us! One of us!” An involuntary smile grew on your face. In a way, you guess that you were one of them and a part of their social circle. You had grown to care for them and it warmed your heart that they thought the same of you. 

It was just some wine, right? In a fancy sunken hotel like this, it would make sense to find such a fancy bottle among the rubble. And it made sense that this group of vampires would have some weird initiation rituals.

You brought the bottle to your lips and took a sip; you did not drink as much as Michael did, but just enough to get a small taste. That sample was enough given how the boys cheered as you felt it go down your throat. You did a double-take, not expecting it to taste like that.

It did not taste like wine, but it was nothing like you had ever drank before. It was strong, but it was from something other than the alcohol content. It was sweet with a bit of a spicy kick to it as it went down. You made a face, still trying to decide if you liked it or not.

“What is that?” You brought the opening to your eye before taking another sip. “Wow, that does not taste like wine.” One more time, you brought the bottle to your lips before concluding that you enjoyed the flavor; they chose a good initiation drink. 

You gave the bottle back to David as you licked your lips clean. You sat comfortably with a bashful smile that you tried to hide with the side of your hand. It was as if they were happier with you drinking the wine than they were with Michael drinking it with how they cheered. They clapped to a rhythm and excitedly chanted again,

“One of us! One of us!” You brought your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

"You guys are way too excited for a little bit of wine," you dismissed, a laugh escaping you as you tried to seem unmoved. Paul hopped onto the box he was sitting on and jumped off to the other side. He raised the volume on his stereo, which was playing some rock song you vaguely recognized. 

"Now, we really celebrate," David instructed as Paul jogged back and pulled you up. 

"You're one of us now, (Y/N)," Marko cheered as he patted you hard on the back, stepping in front of you and facing you with a wide smile, which you mirrored when you recovered. He took notice of how your eyes completely softened while you smiled at him. Your expression was so real, so sincere. 

Those high walls of yours had crumbled down to mere dust, allowing them to step in with ease, which was what you were afraid of, but you could not bring yourself to care in the moment. 

You felt a hand gently stroke your upper back and you turned to see Dwayne, who was grinning boyishly down at you. As they left you, you could not deny how good you felt when they chanted your name,

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)!"

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