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alluringjae · 4 years ago

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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)

⤑ 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.”

892 notes · View notes

mysterystarz · 3 years ago

Text

the romance checklist:

summary: a chance meeting with kageyama has you striking up a bet to see if one of you could fall in love with the other before the year was up. cue the romance checklist, a piece of paper that molded your fate and his.

pairing: kageyama tobio x g!n reader

word count: 3.2k

genres + themes: literally pure fluff, reader is a first-year karasuno student, reader is also kind of a romantic

warnings: none

a/n: so this is my first time writing for kageyama and i know he's probably pretty out of character, so my apologies!! this was inspired off some headcannons i wrote for one of my irl friends, and this wiki-how article which i used to structure the actual checklist! to all my lovely kags simps, this is for you <3 (also to all the people who hate angst, you lucked out bc i was about to add an angst part but got lazy)

You had never thought a trip to the vending machine could be so eventful.

It had been lunch break, and you found yourself wandering towards the machine, money in hand as your eyes trailed the snacks. It had become routine to sneak away during lunch hours for this, enjoying the fresh autumn breeze as you bought your snacks. It had always given you time to think and the time to recompose yourself when you didn’t have a clue what to do.

Usually it also provided you with time alone.

That wasn’t the case today though. Standing in front of the vending machines was Kageyama Tobio, frantically pushing the button for milk with a grumpy sort of scowl on his face. From the distance you stood, you could make out his height and the way he tapped his foot continuously, as if he didn’t have the time to wait for the milk to be dispensed from the spot.

Strolling up to the spot, you stood silently next to him, watching the way he retrieved the milk from the slot wordlessly as he walked away, not even a glance in your direction.

You knew full well who he was. In fact, you could barely walk through the halls of school without hearing a murmur about the prodigy setter and his closed off ways. The girls found him intriguing from afar, and while they never dared to approach him, they all wanted to.

You hadn’t really understood what they saw in him. He was average...if not below that in academics, and he seemed to dedicate most of his time to volleyball, not caring much for other people. He didn’t seem to have many friends, and was almost always grumpy.

All of this should’ve been reason enough to avoid him, and yet you couldn’t help but be intrigued. There was something about him that was different. You just needed to find out what that was.

The next day came around, and sure enough, he stood at the machine again, toe-tapping as his milk was dispensed from the slot. This time his eyes scanned the courtyard as if he was seeking something before they finally landed on you.

You weren’t prepared for the full impact of his gaze. It was calculated and pointed, with some sort of intent that was expressed in every inch of those dark blue eyes. You weren’t put off by it.

In fact, it was charming in its own way.

“Are you looking for something Kageyama?” You asked as you walked towards him, pulling a few yen out of your pocket. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not.” He deadpanned, his eyes still trained on you as you selected a snack from the machine’s buttons. “I see you everywhere. Who are you?”

You hadn’t expected that. You knew he was observant...when it came to volleyball specifically, but never realized how it translated anywhere else. “I’m Y/L/N Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what else to say to him. Gently grabbing your snack, you politely nodded at him before leaving him behind, the thoughts rapidly accumulating in your brain. Did he notice you the entire time? Why did he ask? Did he know something? Was he planning to use you as some example to the other girls who wanted to know him?

You wish you had an answer.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t think of any.

It had been two weeks since you had met Kageyama by the vending machines. It had now become routine to expect him there during your lunch breaks, milk box in hand as he regarded your very presence with something that felt a whole lot like curiosity. Every now and then he’d offer commentary on the mundane happenings of Karasuno, or ask about you, but you weren’t sure how you could hold a conversation with just these things.

“Kageyama.” You nodded, strolling towards the machine as you always did. He whipped around almost immediately, offering a solemn nod in return, clutching his milk box.

“Y/L/N.” He murmured, taking a sip of his box.

“Have you ever thought about love?” You found yourself asking, internally screaming at the word choice. Great, now he was going to think that you were some crazy person.

“I think so…?.” Was what he offered in response. His features seemed to soften at this question though as he scrunched his brows in thought. “What type of love?”

You raised a brow at him in question. “Kageyama...what type of love are you talking about?”

“Well...I love volleyball and milk.” He shrugged. “That counts.”

“That...wasn’t the type I was referring to.” You said, suppressing the laughter that bubbled into your chest. “I was talking about the other kind.”

“The other kind is stupid.” Kageyama replied instantaneously. “There’s nothing special to it.”

You felt confusion seep into your system before you quieted it, letting your mind wander. With Kageyama’s status, you assumed that he’d at least thought of the concept at least once, although it seemed that he’d never even pondered the idea altogether!

“You’d have to feel it to come to that conclusion,” you countered, “Have you?”

“No,” he scoffed, “It’s still stupid.”

“Why?” You asked, feeling the curiosity surface. “Any specific reason?”

“Why would anyone want to dedicate all their time to another person?” Kageyama asked straight back, his gaze unwavering. “I just don’t see the point.”

You stared back at him, feeling the challenge bubble in your veins. “I bet...I can make you fall in love with someone by the end of the school year.”

At that moment, the boy in front of you looked thoroughly surprised, throwing his empty milk box at the garbage can nearby. He seemed speechless to some extent, as if he wasn’t able to process the words that had just left your mouth.

“And what happens if you can’t?” He asked, hesitantly bringing his gaze to your face. “What then?”

“I’ll buy you milk for a whole month.” You placed your hands on your hip as you kept your glare firm. “I stick to that.”

“Okay then,” he sighed, “Game on.”

With a shake of your hands, you cemented your fate.

You would win that bet. That much was certain.

“What’s this Y/L/N?” Kageyama asked, pointing at the piece of paper you held at him. “How are you going to win a bet with this?”

The two of them stood in the courtyard of Karasuno, the fresh autumn breeze rippling the paper you held in your hand. It had been a good day so far, and Kageyama had surprisingly stuck to his resolve, meeting you at the vending machine when he could’ve easily avoided you.

It was always more fun to challenge a competent opponent.

“This is the romance checklist.” You grinned proudly. “This has all the things we need to get you to fall in love.”

“How is it fair if you don’t do the checklist’s things too?”

“Well, that’s why I’m doing them with you.” You responded, already anticipating these types of questions. “I drafted the checklist off of the things I’ve observed over the years that should totally lead to feelings of love!”

“Whatever.” Kageyama said, his blue eyes scanning the paper’s contents. “How do you plan to do this?”

“We follow the steps.” You nodded. “Since I’m doing this with you, it’ll be foolproof.”

“Y/L/N...what if we competed against each other?” He mumbled. “We follow the checklist and use it against each other. Whoever falls in love first loses.”

“Do you really want to risk that?” You smirked, “That’s a bold move you’re making.”

Kageyama stood up straighter at this, the challenge burning deep in his eyes. “I’m going to win, so it won’t be an issue.”

“Suit yourself,” you grinned. “I’ll be winning this anyways.”

He simply smirked as he looked down at the paper, the promise of a challenge fresh and bright between them.

STEP ONE: MEET SOMEONE

After a long time, you had finally gotten some free time away from schoolwork and the obligations that pinned you down. It was a rare occurrence with the amount of pressure that the college prep class placed on you, and you intended to make the most of it.

You found yourself on the pathway of a cafe you used to frequent in the summer with your friends. It had always been a place to collect your thoughts and let your worries float away with every sip of one of the immaculately crafted beverages that they offered there. You felt your lips twitch in an involuntary smile at the memories.

“Y/L/N?” You heard a voice call out, a shocking contrast to the normal chattering you heard within the shop. Looking up, you were met with Kageyama’s eyes, narrowed and confused as you sat at the table frozen. “What are you here for?”

“It's a break for me,” you shrugged, “I come here all the time. I haven’t seen you here before.”

“They have good drinks,” Kageyama replied bluntly. A few beats of silence passed between them, with neither of them knowing what to add to the conversation.

“You can sit down with me.” You offered, gesturing to the empty seat across from you. “The more the merrier.”

He didn’t question this as he slid into the seat, fingers drumming on the table as he looked at the window. From your point of view, it was almost picturesque the way he managed to appear. His blue eyes were focused on the trees outside, and his posture was ever so casual and relaxed as he sat there, as if he had no other care in the world.

It was unfair how model-like he managed to appear, even despite the fact he wasn’t trying.

Ah. Perhaps this is what the girls at school noticed.

Once the drinks arrived at your table, the two of them drank in comfortable silence, admiring the flavors on their tongues as their surroundings continued on as normal. You didn’t feel the need to contribute anything to the silence, finding it calming in its own right.

“So Kageyama, are you feeling anything yet?” You teased, setting down your half-empty cup.

“No.” He admitted, setting down his drink as well. “I am supposed to?”

“Well technically no, but it’d be good if you did.” You chuckled, finding amusement in the cluelessness of his ways. “Step one of the romance checklist: meet somebody.”

“We already met though.” He countered, “How does this count as anything?”

“Well, we just encountered each other out of nowhere.” You smiled, “That counts as a meeting in my book.”

He wrapped his mind around this information, nodding solemnly. “I guess so then. I still don’t feel anything.”

“Neither do I.” You said, willing the slight butterflies in your stomach to subside. It was really nothing. This was simply a chance meeting, nothing more than luck and fate that had you encounter each other today of all days.

You shouldn’t have been affected this quickly. You felt far too warm, far too...fuzzy, for a meeting of chance. It was simply far too intimate.

Well, it seemed that Kageyama had gotten the one upon you at this stage.

You’d beat him next time. You knew you would.

STEP TWO: FLIRT

“You look good today Kags,” you smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction creep up in your veins at his flushed cheeks,

Over the course of the weeks spent together, you had been able to learn more about the mysterious boy in front of you and had even formed a friendship of sorts. For starters, he was flustered very easily, which is why you decided to make your move so early in the morning.

“I look like how I do every day, dumbass!” He growled, the red deepening in his cheeks when you merely winked in response.

Ah yes. He tended to insult those he befriended. That was yet another endearing thing about the boy in front of you.

“No, something is different today,” you commented, “Did you do something with your hair?”

“No,” he frowned, the flush never subsiding from his cheeks. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m just saying genuine things you know.” You laughed, punching his shoulder casually. “Besides, I think I’m succeeding so far.”

“Succeeding? This is that stupid checklist again, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Step two: flirting. What is the point of this again?”

“It’s to show interest.” You remarked. “Besides, if you want me to fall for you, you’re going to at least have to act like you’re interested in me. I know it’s working on you so far.”

“No it’s not!” He yelled, although the defense was half-hearted. You knew he was merely putting up a front. You could tell it from his body posture alone.

You had the upper hand right now.

You waved him goodbye as you entered the Karasuno grounds, climbing the stairs to reach your class as he walked in the opposite direction. Even if you had the upper hand right now, you knew that you had to be on-guard the rest of the day.

If there was one thing you knew very well in the time you had spent with Kageyama, it was that he was extremely competitive. There was no way he’d ever go down without a fierce fight, especially when a month’s worth of milk was on the line.

You had been absolutely right to doubt him.

When lunchtime rolled around, he stood at the vending machine like he always did, leaning against it casually as he waited for you, his focus placed on the entrance.

The first thing you noticed was how calm he was. There was none of his usual frantic energy or the practiced insults that you threw back at one another. He simply stood there, content, as he watched you make your entrance.

The second thing you noticed was how an unconscious smile crept onto his face when you waved at him and slipped away the minute your eyes darted to his mouth. He sipped his milk casually, although you knew that internally, he was definitely scheming.

He could be a gremlin if left untapped.

You were about to purchase your snack in silence, thinking about all the ways he could win against you when you felt his hand on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw him holding out a container of your favorite snack, handing it to you wordlessly.

What?

“I thought I would get it today,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his milk. “You’ve bought me milk sometimes. It’s only fair.”

He didn’t consider it much of a big deal, but you felt your heart begin to accelerate in its pace at the thoughts that came flying into your head.

He had paid attention to your favorite snack? He had actually cared about when you bought him milk?

He noticed all of this?

“You...have a nice smile.” He mumbled, a flush rising onto his cheeks once again. You felt yourself fluster a bit at the compliment, not used to hearing it that often.

“Uhhh thanks.” You exhaled, not knowing how to respond to such an out-of-the-blue remark. “Your smile looks a lot like the Cheshire cat you know.”

For a moment his face was contorted into an expression of horror before he laughed a bit, the low chuckles sending heat straight to your cheeks.

Damn it. His laugh was adorable.

It was a low chiming sound, but it still managed to uplift your spirits in the brief time that you heard it. It was absolutely perfect.

You’d like to hear it again if you could.

A small smile was on his face as he looked to the ground, thinking about something while you took the time to really look at him. Behind the stone exterior, was someone talented, clueless, and amusing in every way you could possibly imagine.

You noticed how his posture mirrored yours, and the way how he smiled when your eyes finally met his own.

Damn it! He got the one-up on you. Again.

STEP THREE: GO ON THRILLING DATES

“Tobio! Let’s go on this one!” You yelled as you dragged him towards the large rollercoaster that caught your eye.

It was a beautiful Saturday with the most perfect weather. Sunny skies met a fresh breeze as you dragged Kageyama around the amusement park you had insisted on going to together. He kept with your quick pace as you went from ride to ride, never once letting go of his hand.

If anything, you were more confused why he didn’t comment on the fact that you had been holding hands that long. Rather he silently followed you from ride to ride, occasionally commenting on how small it looked for them.

From where you stood, the rollercoaster looked positively incredible with the multiple loops and drops in its track. This certainly fit the bill for thrilling. Maybe Kageyama could finally agree to ride this one.

“Y/N, do we really have to do this one?” He asked, his gaze not tearing away from the ride. “Doesn’t it look a bit too small for us?”

“Well if it’s too small, then we can still ride it as a joyride, don’t you think?” You grinned as you shoved him into the line of the coaster. Soon enough, it was your turn as you were ushered into the seats while the employees strapped you and Kageyama into the rollercoaster.

The wait was excruciating, with every second that passed sending a wave of anticipation and adrenaline through your system. Looking to your side, you saw Kageyama’s face, which was composed, even though his fingers drummed rapidly on the bar.

Was he nervous?

Hesitantly, you reached to clasp your hands together, relishing in the feeling of your palm on his as the rollercoaster suddenly began moving, bringing you up the tall lift hill.

“Tobio, are you okay?” You questioned as you neared the top, the grip he had on your hand tightening ever so slightly.

“I’m fine!” He yelled, just as the roller coaster fell over the lift hill, sending them into a plummeting drop.

You felt the exhilarating feeling of soaring as the ride propelled you forward, shouts of glee leaving your mouth ever so often. On the other hand, all you heard from Kageyama was the occasional shout of horror when they encountered yet another drop on the track, the grip he had on your hand deathly tight.

“Tobio! You’re afraid of rollercoasters?!” You shouted as you were guided into a loop.

“No I’m not!” He shouted back, shutting his eyes when he was finally upright again. “They just make me feel like I’m about to die!” When he opened his eyes, they first found yours in a look that was both petrified and fond. “I think I lost the bet!”

“You did what?!” You yelled as the wind rippled in your ears again.

“The bet Y/N! I think I’m in love with you!” He yelled. “I thought I should tell you before we die!”

You felt your heart soar at the words that had just been exchanged, a testament to the budding feelings you had felt for months around him.

“We’re not going to die.” You sighed as the ride finally slowed, feeling exhilarated as you smiled at him. “I love you too.”

Stepping off the rollercoaster, Kageyama was more silent than anything, red flush adorning his cheeks as you massaged soothing circles onto his hand. “We both lost it in the end.” You laughed.

“I think it was worth it,” he chuckled, the beautiful chime, showing you that he meant every word.

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reblogs are very appreciated <3

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fandomlovingfreak · 3 years ago

Text

Summoned

Chapter 1: Summoned

Sebastian de Poitiers x OC

Rating: E for everyone

Word Count: 1661

MasterList Link I Wattpad Link I AO3

Summary: Summoned, to bid to come : send for

When a letter is received from an old friend summoning her for an unspoken favor, Isobel must set sail from her father's home in Scotland, unsure if she will ever see the shores of the country she loves, ever again. French Court, something whispered about by her and her friends as young girls seem frightening to Isobel. Yet, destiny awaits her in Mary's secret favor.

Disclaimer: The characterizations of characters from Reign (based on historical figures) are all the property of the CW Historical Romance show, Reign created by Laurie McCarthy and Stephanie SenGupta (these characters include but are not limited to Sebastian de Poitiers, King Francis, Mary Queen of Scots). This work has not been created for profit or financial compensations, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

CW nor the creators of Reign do not own my original character Isobel.

Notes: I’ve been reworking this fic for a while. I hope to bring it to life as I’ve quite literally been writing it off and on since 2019!

Enjoy

Dear Isobel,

I would like to be summoning you under different circumstances, but I find myself needing you at this hour. I cannot disclose too much information within this letter, as we are still uncertain whether or not the English are intercepting our letters, but I beg you to make haste.

I await your arrival at French Court.

Your friend,

Mary Queen of Scots

I've read and re-read the letter from my dear friend at least two dozen times since departing from the shores of Scotland. Reading was a wonderful escape from the thoughts that I may never see these shores again, something my father had drilled into my head a thousand times before I left. He was certain I'd find a match in France, hopeful that the Queen of Scotland was arranging the details as I traveled.

I myself am nervous about the implications of the letter... of the summoning from Mary. Where my father saw hope, I saw dread-- or at least unexpected news.

But she spoke of something important, and I couldn't just ignore her pleads to come to her Court. Last I'd heard, she'd married her long-awaited fiance, Francis, and gone on a long honeymoon tour. What on earth would have her summoning me of all people at this moment?

***

Everything is splendid

I think to myself as I look around the halls of the castle. The people are even dressed splendidly.

I am greeted by my old friends Kenna, Greer, and Lola, who all talk animatedly about my arrival before I am hurried off to Mary's bed-chamber for the purpose of my summoning.

She greets me just as our other friends had, warmly, with smiles and small talk. I did miss her, more than I originally thought I did, as I see she's become more Queenly than ever before. Technically, I suppose, she was more a Queen than ever now that she and her husband had officially been crowned King and Queen of France.

"Come sit, please." Mary situates us by a glowing fire, asking if I'd like a refreshment of any sort. I decline, feeling I can't wait another moment. I must know why I am in France.

Mary looks down at her hands, suddenly looking as if she'd rather not be doing this, "Yes, well. I must ask you to do something I feel uneasy asking of you--"

I take Mary's hand in mine, "what is it?" Her tone is almost unreadable, but her eyes tell me I should be nervous.

Mary takes a deep breath of air, "I must ask you to stay here in France and-- marry Francis's brother, Sebastian de Poitiers."

I feel the color drain from my cheeks, "Marry--?"

My Queen has the decency to look embarrassed as she searches for words, "Francis's half-brother."

"The late King's bastard son? That Sebastian? Mary, I don't understand--"

"I know that-- I know how your father would react, will react if you agree to help me, but please listen to me, Isobel. I have good reason to ask for your help." After a moment, I nod, urging her to tell me the point of this-- suggestion.

"I'm not sure what you've heard about my past year in the French court, so I'll start from the beginning." I listen to her retell the problems they've had. The Queen Mother's meddling, the prophecy of Francis's death if he married Mary, the ploy to get Sebastian legitimized by the Vatican. All of the details are poured out for me to better understand Mary's odd request.

"I don't understand how you could have even-- I mean, Mary. He's the King's bastard. Your mother would have never allowed it..."

"And she fought it and won. I know that it seems crazy, but I love Francis. I would do anything to keep him from death, even marry a man I--" she flushes. I can see there were feelings even if she chose one brother over the other.

"Oh, Mary..."

Mary sighs, "I know it's a lot to ask of you, Isobel, but Sebastian is my friend, and it's the only way Francis will feel... he can let Sebastian stay in court-- if he's married and settled down with his own wife."

I look down at my hands, embarrassed to be asking such a question, "How would this affect me in court, Mary?" How can I turn down my Queen's requests, though? I have to do what is right for the country, even if the country she's asking me for aid from is her husband's.

"Francis has agreed to give Sebastian a title, a small one but a title nonetheless, and an estate that will be available if you wish to escape French Court for a time during each year. Bash is a bastard, but that won't destroy you under Francis's care."

"And has Sebastian agreed to this?"

Mary hesitates, "He has not." I thought as much, "but it's the only option for him. He'll see reason. Sebastian is very reasonable, Isobel. That's one of the reasons why I thought of you when this predicament came up. I often think he is a reflection of you in ways."

My father's potential thoughts and opinions plague my mind, keeping me silent as she waits for my answer.

"I know I'm asking a lot of you, Isobel." Silence chokes out the conversation.

"Can I think it over, Mary?"

"Yes. If you need me to, I will send your father's word. I'll tell him it was for the good of the alliance between Scotland and France. Anything you need, Isobel." Her hand grasps mine, pleading with me.

With a nod, I agree to be quick with my answer.

***

The halls are near empty as I walk slowly towards the room prepared for me by my dearest friends Kenna, Lola, and Greer.

Worries come in and out of my brain rapidly. I fear for the fall in my reputation, then feel awful for thinking of another so lowly. Sebastian could very much be a wonderful man, and I'm sure he is if Mary held such a high opinion of him. She wouldn't have entertained marriage with a man if she did not believe him to be a truly wonderful person, I'm certain of it. But, that did not change the fact that he existed somewhat outside of polite company.

Sitting on the large bed, I fold my hands tightly on my lap in worry. If I agree to marry, I will be directly aiding my Queen and helping create peace within both of our countries. Francis was technically now the King of Scotland. On the other hand, I would be marrying someone I don't know, which frightens me. Not to mention I will someday have to face my family, who may blame me for pulling them down with me if all of this backfires and I become some sort of social pariah.

Feeling thoroughly exhausted by all of this thinking, I flop back onto the bed.

In the end, I do trust Mary. I don't believe that she would purposefully lead me astray, and she seemed genuine and confident that Sebastian and I could be a match. A good one at that.

With newly found resolve, I wake early and dress before making my way to Mary's bed-chamber. I need to-- before I chicken out and run home to my father. I can be brave.

"Isobel," Mary's voice is full of surprise, "is something the matter?" She takes a few steps towards me

"I've thought it over, Mary," I take a large calming breath, sealing my fate, "I will marry him."

She stands looking at me for a beat before taking a few steps to embrace me, "Thank you, Isobel. Thank you. You can't understand how grateful I am." She pulls back, looking deadly serious, "I promise you that I personally will send word to your father and make him know this was my doing. You will receive no backlash; you have been kind and selfless. I promise you that you will be taken care of under both the Scottish and French crowns."

I smile, pulling her back into a hug, "Thank you, Mary."

"Don't thank me at all. You are doing an enormous, insane favor for me."

"I trust you, you know that? I don't believe you would let me marry someone horrible."

"He isn't! Sebastian is wonderful. He's thoughtful and kind, a little pigheaded, but what man isn't a bit stubborn?" I laugh at her words. "And think of this! You and I shall be related by marriage."

I smile kindly, not wanting to burst her bubble... In many's views, a bastard, even one close to his half-siblings, is not a true sibling.

***

Sebastian looks between Mary and his half-brother, "you can't be serious."

Francis's eyes hold that hatred. The one reserved specifically for Sebastian that has developed since Mary came to Court.

"It's the only solution, Sebastian. I will never feel comfortable with your return to Court-- living near my wife if you remain a bachelor."

He snorts at the ridiculousness of the idea, "If I agree to marry a complete stranger, you will somehow gain comfort?" The venom in his voice pulses through each syllable.

Unluckily, Francis matches his frustration, his tone turning just as icy, "You will be too preoccupied with your own wife and new station to continue lusting over my wife. Your Queen." Mary looks at her husband with concern, a look he used to be on the receiving end of. Sebastian looks away with disgust... no sadness. Some vile emotion that he detests feeling.

"Please, Bash," Mary tries to soothe the pain, "Isobel has agreed. She's wonderful. She will make an excellent wife for you."

Sebastian sighs, running his fingers through his hair, "Can I meet her first? I would like to meet her before you force us to marry, please."

Mary and Francis look between each other.

"I can arrange that."

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

Text

Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]

ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 3: The Escape ✩࿐ ˚.✧

Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.

Word Count: 2600>

Warnings: female masturbation

Series Masterlist

Din Djarin was the first Mandalorian warrior to set foot on Mandalore wearing full armour in decades. It wasn't an act of bravery or rebellion, although it would have certainly been interpreted that way. Din didn't know any different. In fact, apart from the odd glare, he hadn't even assumed he'd caused any trouble upon his approach to the palace.

He was so, very wrong.

"Moff Gideon, sir— a Mandalorian was spotted walking through the princess' palace back on Mandalore. He was seen with a child. We are led to believe that his entry to the palace was not authorized by an Imperial, but by the princess herself." one trooper informed, standing as straight and still as could be. Moff Gideon blinked momentarily and turned to face the bay window of the Imperial light cruiser. He looked amongst the stars as he contemplated the trooper's revelation.

You'd granted palace entry to a Mandalalorian in secret? That was the first sign of trouble. You, despite the front you upheld, were no longer the Manda'lor, but a captive of the Empire. You knew fine well that all entry to Mandalore must be granted by Moff Gideon himself… and this was the first time he'd heard of this. Nevertheless, Gideon was not one to panic. He remained calm and collected, although his blood boiled at your audacity to go against his commands.

"A child, you say?" Moff Gideon hummed casually, adjusting his black leather glove. Of course there was a specific child on his mind, but Moff Gideon knew better than to let himself worry over that. If a Mandalorian warrior had returned to Mandalore, it could be the first sign of mutiny. The first sign of your wishes to regain power and solitude to Mandalore the Great. "Do we know anything about the Mandalorian?" Moff Gideon questioned, deciding that the Mandalorian was his main concern.

"He was dressed in full beskar armour. Helmet included. According to ISB records, the child is an Imperial bounty. It seems he has been in possession by the Mandalorian for quite some time." The trooper informed, his entire body stiff.

That was when Moff Gideon knew for sure— it was the child he'd sought after for the past six months. The child who possessed the bloodstream of a force-sensitive, a Jedi even.

And now it just so happened that the Child was on Mandalore, the planet Moff Gideon held power over. It was perfect. Everything was falling into place for the Imperial reign. If the Moff could just get his hands on the child…

"Prepare my ship," Moff Gideon instructed, raising a finger. "Set course to Mandalore."

—-—-—

There wasn't a single room in the palace that Din wasn't in awe of. Now that he and Grogu had found comfort in your quarters, he checked out onto the balcony trying to find a good view of the Razor Crest. Upon inspection, it seemed like Imperial troopers were checking out Din's ship, which could never be a good thing. He turned back to you and watched as you fiddled with Grogu's ears.

You were beautiful; with the softest and most delicate features he'd ever had the opportunity to look at. Your voice was as sweet as honey and your eyes sparkled like the brightest star in the whole galaxy. Din was trying to work out when exactly would be the best time for him to explain the little marriage situation the Armorer had proposed to him before he left. It was clear as day that you already didn't like his creed; which meant he couldn't exactly be honest with you about his intentions.

He couldn't say 'Oh, my cut of the deal is that I marry you. And once we are united, I help you regain power over Mandalore, but we do it my way. We do it the traditional way. The way of the Watch'. You'd simply never allow it. No… Din had to be more cunning. He had to form a plan.

He wasn't happy to lie to you. You seemed nice enough, and your heart was in the right place. Already Grogu had taken a liking to you which was certainly a rarity.

Din slowly searched around your bedroom. It was like a library, shelves upon shelves filled with romance novels. You were clearly a hopeless romantic, and perhaps that could serve in Din's favour. And you'd already formed an attachment with his son. That's when a cord struck Din.

He could always just… make you fall in love with him. Make you want to marry him.

Din Djarin never had the strongest moral compass. He did what he had to do to support his Creed and this was simply just one of those occasions. The Armorer had said so herself, the way of his creed was the right way. It was the only way he has ever known. His gaze flicked back over to you, and his heart melted. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad making you his wife after all.

There was a slight problem. Din had never had a long term romantic relationship in his life. He didn't know how to flirt and he was afraid over how long it might take him to successfully seduce you. He had to get in your good books someway or another.

After a prolonged silence, you were the first to speak.

"I think we're in trouble already," you swallowed, looking up at Din. "I never expected a Child of the Watch to come rescue me… but you showing up on Mandalore dressed like a Mandalorian was a bad idea." Din blinked momentarily, but didn't say a word. His silence only urged you to continue your explanation. "No Mandalorian has been brave enough to return to Mandalore wearing full beskar and a helmet. I predict the Imps have already sent word to the Moff."

"You're the Manda'lor though," Din pointed out. "Surely you have some say in the matter?"

You practically cringed. You weren't really the Manda'lor— but that wasn't important right now. Sure, you'd tell him eventually that Moff Gideon had overthrown your position of power. You'd tell him once you regained control of Mandalore. You took Din's hands and sighed. "Swear that I can put my faith in you to protect me."

"I swear," Din promised, running his thumb over your knuckles. You swore that your heart skipped a beat at the menial yet intimate touch. "So princess. What's the plan?"

"We have to leave the palace. Go into hiding. I have no doubt Moff Gideon and his men are already on their way to investigate."

"Wait—," Din paused, his suspicion already rising. "I know Mandalore is under Imperial rule but who is this Moff and why is he so important?"

You scrunched up your nose, not prepared to provide him with the truth. As it turned out, you and Din were both ready to lie to each other. You expected him to trust you, and he expected you to trust him, but neither of you realised that you both had questionable intentions.

"He governs the planet. He's kind of the boss man," you said quietly. That wasn't exactly false. You were just… sugar coating the truth. "Where do you hail from, Din?"

"Uh- complicated question… I uh…" Din pondered. He didn't even remember the name of the planet where he was born. He was taken away by the Watch when he was just a four year old orphan. He went through his training all around the galaxy, never staying still for one moment, until eventually his tribe went into hiding on Nevarro. He sighed. "Nevarro." Assuming that was the easy answer.

You'd never heard of such a place. "Do you have friends on Nevarro?"

He wasn't sure if friends was the right word. He knew people, sure. Many of the citizens over there were in debt to Din. "I guess."

"People who can help us? We could… form an alliance," you smiled as you gathered your information. "To rebel against the Empire."

"You're sounding more like a politician for the New Republic than a Mandalorian warrior." Din scoffed, and you supposed he had a point. You didn't want Mandalore to overrule the galaxy. You were fine with the New Republican reign. From your own awareness, General Leia Organa of the New Republic was actually the daughter of your mother's old friend— Senator Padmé Amidala. But what were the chances that some random child of the Watch had any connection to the New Republic? Still, there was no harm in asking.

"Do you know any New Republic fighters?" you pondered, holding Grogu tight into your chest. You were cradling him in your arms as he had fallen asleep during your conversation, his gentle snores filling your bedroom.

It just so happened that Din did know a New Republic fighter and she just so happened to reside on Nevarro. Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan. Din nodded his head in affirmation and your grin only grew wider. "This might actually work." you confessed with a shaky exhale.

"No offence princess, but the New Republic already has too much on their plate to help you regain control of Mandalore, they're already still fighting the remnants of the Empire." Din huffed.

Din had a point— but what he didn't know was that the great Manda'lor was an Imperial ISB officer. If you could just get to Leia Organa and explain your situation, as the daughter of an old family friend… maybe then you'd gain the support of the New Republic. You were a slave of the Empire but you were desperate to break free of their hold.

"Take me to your friend… the New Republic fighter." you told the Mandalorian, beaming so brightly that your eyes twinkled with delight. Din wasn't one to catch feelings, but he swore his heart stopped every time he caught a glimpse of your lips curling into a smile.

"Now?" Din asked, shuffling around awkwardly.

"Yes," you confirmed. "I'm afraid we're already running on borrowed time."

—-—-—

Din was a good pilot and he knew how to sneak around when necessary, which meant, yourself, the Mandalorian, and his son, were able to leave Mandalore in one piece without the authority noticing. Din promised you he'd make the jump to hyperspace as soon as it was safe to do so, your anxiety already bubbling away as you considered the probability of Moff Gideon and his troopers already raiding your palace in search of you. No doubt that the moment they realised you were missing, they'd send out a whole search party for you.

Your nerves weren't lost on Din. In fact, he made his bed — something he never did — and encouraged you to lay in it. "May as well get some rest princess, we'll be in the air for a while." he grumbled, trying to resist the thought of you sleeping in the same place he slept every night. He wasn't prepared to give up his bed for anyone but you were the princess of Mandalore and potentially his future wife. And he'd known you for the best part of an hour. He still hadn't entirely wrapped his head around it all.

You were uncertain at first, but you decided he had a point. His bed was so much smaller than the one back home. Everytime you moved the slightest, it croaked and screeched. You could feel every indent and wire underneath the thin excuse of a mattress and you couldn't help but wonder how he could possibly sleep at night. Unless he slept in his full Beskar… it must've been so uncomfortable for him.

Din nursed Grogu while you caught a couple hours of sleep, but he couldn't stop thinking about you. Not once did he expect to be returning back to Nevarro so fast, but he decided it would be a good thing. He could report back to the Armorer whilst you and Cara spoke.

He was tired too. This whole day so far had been exhausting, but rather than scooching next to you in his bed, he opted to get cozy in the cockpit. Throwing a blanket over himself and Grogu, Din managed to close his eyes.

As you had imagined, your sleep on the Razor Crest wasn't very satisfying and you woke up every few minutes. Staring up at the ceiling, you couldn't help but think about the Mandalorian. He was serving his duty to protect you, believing that you are the rightful ruler of Mandalore. And for the first time, you felt guilty for being so dishonest to him. He'd shown you nothing but care and compassion from the moment he met you, even going as far to comfort you on the grand staircase. He wasn't offended when you expressed your disdain towards his creed— at least, he didn't show it. Din Djarin seemed like a good, genuine person. And you deserve someone good and genuine… Cursing yourself, you snapped yourself out of those thoughts. There was no time to initiate relationships, and you could not let yourself fall into the trap of caring about him. That would only screw up your plan even more. You just had to focus on regaining control of Mandalore.

But he was a masked warrior who had the caring nature of a prince and the body of a God. He was a father. You knew there was so much more to him than what meets the eye and so… maybe it wouldn't be too bad to find out more about the mysterious Mandalorian, in some way or another. Yes, gaining power of Mandalore was your first priority but would it really be so bad to let yourself get close to Din in the process?

You'd been isolated your whole life and to say that you craved love and romance was an understatement. You looked into the hull of the ship where it was dark and quiet, and just about made out the sleeping silhouette of Din who was laying in his pilot chair. Just the gleam of his shiny beskar and his broad shoulders.

Kriff— he was hot.

And the sexual tension between you both was undeniable.

You bit your lower lip and let your hand wander down your tunic, your fingers nervously gracing the waistband of your underwear. Touching yourself in his bed would be so wrong… and yet you couldn't resist it. Your eyes felt heavy as you watched him, his chest rising up and down as he slept peacefully. Your finger dipped into your panties and you bit down onto the thin blanket in order to suppress a moan as you began to rub yourself to the thought of him.

He'd touched you plenty of times...his big, strong, gloved fingers grabbing you and holding you… it was so easy to get lost in the thoughts. Your eyes fluttered shut as you continued to play with yourself, secretly hoping that the Mandalorian would find you making a mess in his bed and punish you in some way or another.

You wondered if he'd be rough and heavy handed… or if he'd be sweet and compassionate. Either way, you were completely riled up and on the verge of hitting your climax when a loud flurry of beeping came from the cockpit. You gasped, your eyes snapping open and you shuffled to sit upright in the bed.

"Grogu," Din grumbled tiredly, and for the first time, you heard his voice raw and unmodulated. He'd taken off his helmet. "Go back to sleep. Told you not to press buttons when I'm not watching. You'll get us in trouble."

And your heart done a loop-de-loop.

You had just met the Mandalorian and already he had you wrapped around his finger.

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wallgirl · 3 years ago

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The Little Nereid Part 4

4400 words, part four of a nine part fanfiction (it just keeps changing tbh)

Poseidon x OC

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful.

Categories: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending; no NSFW content

---

It was nearly noon the next day when a gentle rap sounded on Dynamene's bedroom door.

"Dynamene, are you awake?" Actaea's hesitant voice came through the door. "You haven't been out all day. Are you feeling okay?"

Dynamene turned over from where she had wrapped herself up in her blankets. Her eyes felt like sandpaper after all the crying she had done the night before. "Everything's okay, Actaea. I just don't feel so well. I think I'm going to stay in bed today." She didn't have the energy to force herself to sound happier than she felt.

"Okay. The rest of us are going to go seaing this afternoon. If you're feeling better, you should come with. I'll let you rest now."

Dynamene's gloomy expression didn't change. "Okay. Thank you, Actaea."

Actaea's footsteps disappeared away from the other side of the door, and Dynamene buried her face back into her pillow.

After everything that she had heard last night, she couldn't bring herself to leave her room. She couldn't bear the thought of being out in the palace, pretending that everything was fine to her sisters, and chancing the possibility of having to face him. Here in her room, she could indulge in her misery without anyone else having to know. She sighed and sat up reluctantly, untangling herself from her bedding. With slow steps she crossed over to the window and drew the curtain back.

It was another day of fine weather; Hera's prediction had been right. The sun was shining as clearly as ever, and the birds and the ocean were following the normal routine; birds circling the beach for a meal, and the waves ebbing and flowing to the beat of the ocean's heart.

Dynamene pulled the curtain back over and wandered aimlessly to her boudoir, staring at her shadowed reflection. She looked every inch as miserable as she felt, and that just made her more upset.

What right did she have, honestly, to be so upset, especially after eavesdropping on a conversation not meant for her ears? She had done this to herself. She had taken the risk, knowing that whatever words that Poseidon and Hera exchanged could hurt her feelings, and now she was dealing with the repercussions.

As far as Poseidon's views on his connection with the Nereids... It wasn't like they were unexpected either. Dynamene had lived in his palace for a thousand years. Never once had they had a true conversation, or anything more than him giving orders and her acknowledging his demands. He was cold. He was unfeeling. He was a god so far removed from the feelings of other beings, even those of other deities and supernatural beings, that no one else dared to approach him. She was starting to realize that maybe they had the right idea in staying away.

Why had someone as despicable as him been on her mind so much in the first place?

"What are you doing to yourself?" She asked her reflection in disappointment. "You're not a child anymore. You can't just keep sulking in your room, especially when you've brought your misery on yourself. You're going to worry your family." She sighed and returned to her bed, burying herself back under the covers. She would get some more sleep, then she would take a warm bath and face the world again. Everything would be fine. It would just take a little time.

Meanwhile, Actaea had returned to the room where the other sisters were setting up for lunch, and where Ianeira was waiting with a troubled expression.

"Is she alright?" Ianeira asked as Actaea approached.

"To be quite honest, I'm not sure," Actaea sighed. "She sounded completely lifeless when I spoke to her. She said she wasn't feeling well, but we all know that's a lie. She's been acting strange since her birthday."

"More specifically, once we received word that Hera was visiting." Ianeira took a moment to ponder. "Do you think Lady Hera might've said something privately to her last night?"

"What cause would she have had to speak to her? They're barely acquainted. She gave Dynamene her blessing in front of all the rest of us with no problem. And as far as I know, Dyna has done nothing to provoke Lady Hera's ire."

"Maybe it's far-fetched, but... What about Lord Poseidon? You remember how she ran from his rooms; that look in her eyes. Do you think..." Ianeira's words halted, and she gave a sharp inhale of realization. Her eyes snapped up to meet her sister's. "Actaea..."

Actaea gave her a knowing look and leaned closer. "I'll tell you this in confidence," she said lowly. "She was worried about the subjects that Hera might broach with Poseidon when she came. I'll give you one guess as to why."

Ianeira exhaled deeply. "I've been blind."

"Oh, come now. It's only become more noticeable this past decade or so, dearest older sister," Actaea sighed impatiently. "Dynamene isn't a child anymore, after all."

"I know. It's just..." Ianeira pursed her lips. "Perhaps I didn't want to believe it. I guess I wanted to believe that it was just a healthy sense of fear making her act the way she's been."

"That may have been the case in the past, but it seems things are changing rapidly."

"He wouldn't. We know he wouldn't."

"I'm sure Dynamene knows that as well. That doesn't often sway the heart, unfortunately. We'll have to keep an eye on things; all of us."

"I agree," Ianeira nodded somberly. "For Dynamene's sake."

"For Dynamene's sake."

They exchanged a meaningful look once more before joining the rest of their sisters at the table.

It was many hours later that Dynamene finally woke up. Stretching slowly, she looked over at the curtain-covered window. No more sunlight was filtering through; the room was nearly completely dark. It seemed she had managed to sleep the rest of the day away.

She stood on the cold marble floor, giving one last stretch and a rousing shake of her head before crossing to her dresser for clean clothes. Her sisters had almost certainly left and returned from their seaing excursion by now. Dynamene squinted at the clock on her boudoir. It was well past the afternoon now; the last of the sunset was probably fading over the horizon.

Clad in fresh robes, she left her room and quietly made her way through the palace towards the kitchens. She could hear her sisters conversing and enjoying their free time in various rooms as she passed, but she crept by as best she could without notice. She was feeling more like herself now, but she still wasn't ready to be bombarded with the questions her sisters would undoubtedly have.

After fetching an apple from the pantry, she emerged from the palace and made her way down to the beach. A gentle ocean breeze brushed the stray hairs back from her face, and she smiled lightly at the scent of the seawater. No matter her troubles, she would always be able to count on the ocean to wash them away.

She chose a spot next to a group of tide pools to sit, tucking her peplos beneath her and gazing out at the vast, black ocean. She imagined her worries being washed away by each drag of the waves, pulling them from the sand and casting them out into the unknown.

"Dynamene, Dynamene," soft voices came, and she looked down at the tide pools. A few fish that had been trapped within were swimming about in tidy circles. "What troubles you?"

Dynamene smiled sadly. "Nothing, little friends. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Never. We're always glad for the company of a Nereid," they answered, their scales shimmering faintly in the moonlight.

Dynamene watched them warmly. All Nereids, as spirits of the sea, had the ability to communicate with sea life. In return, the sea life held them in high regards, considering them protectors and ambassadors of the ocean and all within. "You know," she ventured, drawing her knees up to her chest. "The gods of Olympus are mysterious, even to those who've known them for a millennia. Do you think that, maybe, they're just so far removed from other beings that it's impossible to form a connection with one?"

"The gods of Olympus are proud to a fault," a minnow responded. "They justify their actions with empty motives, chasing pleasure and recognition just as any mortal."

"You see, the gods have the same minds as mortals, but they trick themselves into thinking that their supernatural gifts have made them entirely different beings," a tiny crab added, crawling out of the pool to rest upon her foot. "They are just as infallible as humans, and in many ways much more destructive, especially to themselves."

"Mm," Dynamene hummed thoughtfully. "Thinking back now on all my experiences with the gods... Your words strike me as true, friends." She considered the waves for several moments. "You're right. I guess even with their power... They are just people with faults like anyone else." She lifted her hand, guiding a little stream of water from the ocean to the tide pool. "Thank you for your insights. Here you are; you can return to the ocean now."

The sea life that had been confined to the tide pool took advantage of the stream to return to the sea, their little voices thanking her many times over.

Dynamene sighed and leaned back on her arms, taking a few minutes to absorb the wise words the animals had shared with her. It all made sense; so much so that she began to wonder if, deep down, she hadn't had the same suspicions about the gods all along. Of course, in a position like hers, as a servant to one of the top three, such thoughts could be perilous to acknowledge. Keeping them tucked away to herself was the safe choice.

A strange shift in the air made her start. She quickly righted herself and turned around, feeling a presence approaching.

From the base of the stairs approached a familiar figure, a sight that she found her heart both leaping at and shirking from.

Poseidon was walking towards her, the moonlight casting a white glow on the side of his body not shadowed by the rocky bluffs. The points of his trident caught the moonlight on their sharp edges. His expression was somber.

No; as he came closer and Dynamene could make his face out more clearly, she saw it was one of anger. Him seeking her out at this hour with such an expression quickly made it clear as to why he was here; he must have found her out.

She scrambled to her feet and backed away towards the ocean, the cold water lapping at her feet. "Lord Poseidon," she ventured in a small voice hardly audible over the waves. "I didn't expect to see you out here so late..."

He halted ten feet from her. The breeze from the waves caught the white wrap that flowed from his waist, its waving fabric juxtaposed against the sharp silhouette of his body. His hair was lightly tousled from the wind as well, that stray lock of hair that had always captured her attention blown back from his face.

Now she was seeing him as he was. A beautiful, terrible, apathetic man with no warmth to spare nor kindness to show. His beauty was as empty as his soul, and in that moment, she hated him for it.

Her resentment lit an indignant fire in her veins that gave her a surge of courage. She hated him enough that she did not fear him, and she met his gaze full-on, her back straightening, hands loose at her sides.

"It seems you have overstepped the boundaries that servants under a god should observe," he said. In the shadows, his eyes were dark and cold, reminding Dynamene of an obsidian pendant Thoe had once fawned over.

"Eavesdropping is treason," he stated simply. "A betrayal of the faith a master should be able to have in his servant."

"I have, my lord. I give you no pretenses, nor excuses," Dynamene responded, her gaze falling slightly.

"It is," Dynamene whispered. She looked back up at Poseidon. No matter how she felt about him in the moment, she couldn't ignore the twinge of guilt that she still felt at having broken the trust he'd had in her.

Wait, trust? Faith?

What did he know of such things?

"I will heartily accept any punishment you dole to me, Lord Poseidon," she said softly, eyes still searching his face. "But I wonder if you could shed some light on a lowly sea-nymph like me."

His expression changed slightly at that. He remained silent, though, and Dynamene took it as permission to continue.

"You see, I have to wonder... Did you really have faith in me, in the truest sense of the word?" She whispered, clasping her hands to her chest.

These words seemed to have rather blindsided Poseidon, because he blinked. Something told her that this was not something he'd ever considered. Before this moment, he'd never had to. Then his brow furrowed; not in anger, necessarily, but in concentration. No matter what answer he gave, it would be wrong. He could not say yes; if that were the case, he would not hold meetings with his siblings in privacy. He could not say no; he had let his guard down and allowed the possibility of someone eavesdropping to become a reality.

"Because I've always had faith in you, Lord Poseidon," Dynamene continued, her knuckles white from how hard she was clutching her hands together. She could hardly get the words out. "I have always trusted you, and believed in you. I would blindly follow you to the ends of the Earth and jump off if I thought you wanted it; If I thought you expected it. I am a fallible being, just a sea-nymph. I could never reach the standards that I know you hold your fellow gods to. But I'd like to think that, maybe, in some point over the millennia I have served you..." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Maybe, though I've now broken your trust, you had some faith in me, even as your lowly sea-nymph servant."

She prepared to be smited. One blow of his trident was all it would take to end her life, and she was braced for it. An ineffective servant was one Poseidon had no need of. Her fate was inevitable, and she apologized silently to her sisters. I'm sorry I failed you.

But the moments went by, and still Dynamene's heart continued to beat.

Once a minute had nearly passed, she slowly opened her eyes.

Poseidon was no longer looking at her, but at the ocean. The trident had vanished from his grip. His expression had returned to one of indifference, but there was something turning in his eyes. She knew he was deep in thought, but about what, she had no idea.

"The ocean," he began rather slowly. "It is the driving force of all life. As a Nereid, you know this."

She blinked at him in amazement.

"I am the master of it. No one knows the water, or the life within it, as well as I do. This is the way it has been, and this is the way it will always be." His gaze slowly shifted back to her. "Everything that happens concerning the ocean, from the ebb of the tide to the respiration of the fish... I feel it all." He turned to face her head-on once more. "Come here."

She cautiously stepped forward, captivated by his words despite herself. She had no idea what to expect next.

He continued to look down at her. "You Nereids are part of the ocean. The personification of the water's soul. As such, I can feel your presence as well."

Dynamene's heart skipped a beat. Was this how he knew that she had been listening in on his conversation with Hera?

"Even in this, your humanoid form, seawater flows through your body." He reached out and took her hand, and Dynamene immediately tensed up from the unexpected contact. She could feel that strange electricity coursing through her veins once more. "Every time your heart beats, I can sense it." His fingers lingered on her wrist, and she could feel her pulse pressing against his skin. His hand was large, much bigger than hers, but the fingers were rather long and graceful, and she could feel faint calluses from wielding his trident on his palm.

For the first time since she'd met him, he seemed like a real flesh-and-blood being.

Dynamene stared at him in shock. Then came a jarring and humiliating realization. Every time her heart had pounded in his presence, all the times her heart had skipped a beat from his gaze, and that moment when he had handed her the bracelet and she thought she might faint... He knew them all. Now it made sense, the way he'd stared at her after gifting her her present. He could hear her heart beating fast in excitement.

He could hear her feelings for him.

She was so embarrassed. How could she have been so foolish as to think she could ever hide the way he made her felt? It had to have been written all over her face as well. She felt her face prickling with humiliation, and she looked down at the pebbles washed ashore by the waves. Maybe she really was still a child after all.

Poseidon released her hand and said nothing. They remained standing there, unmoving, as Dynamene slowly forced herself to gather her wits and say something, anything. A sudden question came to mind.

"Then..." She said, swallowing the crack in her voice. "You're a being of the ocean to some extent too, right? If you're so deeply entwined with it... How come I can't... hear your presence? Is it because seawater doesn't run through your veins as well?"

"You can, if you have enough power and practice. As a Nereid, you should be able to." This time, he held out his own hand.

Dynamene stared at it hesitantly before reaching out and gently grasping it. The moonlight turned the backs of their hands, one big, one small, the same pale hue. Poseidon closed his eyes, and she followed suit.

For a moment, she felt nothing. She concentrated, searching for something in the darkness...

Then she found it. A steady beat, just like any other man's, strong and constant. And along with his heartbeat was something more. No... much more. The more she focused, the more she sensed. She could feel the rumbling of the ocean's currents and see all the sea life flickering by. She felt the heat from the thermal vents deep down on the ocean floor, and smelled the algae and seaweed that had washed up on shore. It was as if he was a conductor for all the energy in the ocean, and their physical connection was wiring it through to her.

The man she'd thought was completely empty was teeming with life force, not just that of his own, but of that of every being in the ocean.

Shocked, she opened her eyes. He slowly opened his as well, staring at her. "That is but a fraction of what I can sense. It's only this strong from a certain distance, but that's all that's necessary. Nothing around me escapes my notice."

The knowledge of all this was a lot for Dynamene to take in. Her eyes darted back and forth, as if searching for something to help her absorb and make sense of all this. Was this what he was really thinking about during all those moments that he seemed to be staring off into space? No wonder he was prone to leaving suddenly and without explanation. Since he could sense what was going on nearby in his watery realm, he knew when there was conflict before anyone else at the palace did.

"All this means you must've been able to tell I was there while you were speaking to Lady Hera," Dynamene whispered, staring down at their clasped hands. "But I... I don't understand. Why didn't you make it known then, that you knew I was listening?"

Poseidon didn't respond, instead scrutinizing her face. As much as she knew that she should release his hand, she couldn't bear to let go just yet.

"There was no need to cause a scene." His gaze had shifted back to the ocean. "My bull-headed sister is troublesome enough without dealing with her rage at an errant servant."

Dynamene's face turned pink with embarrassment, but she had to concede that much to him. It was true. "Then... I have to thank you," she whispered. He looked back into her eyes once more, and she found herself drinking in the sight of those beautiful eyes. It was true that they were dark and cold and distant, but now she had begun to see something else within them. Now, it was as if he was truly seeing her. No longer was he looking through her, like a meaningless ghost. His eyes were fixed on her own, acknowledging her and listening to what she had to say. And the more she stared, the deeper she found herself falling into them, as if they were an ocean in themselves.

Falling, sinking, further and further...

"If Hera had known that I was there, I'm sure she wouldn't have been nearly as forgiving," Dynamene murmured, trying to break free of the spell he'd unknowingly cast on her. "And I'm guessing you haven't told her at all, as I'm still standing here and not dead or turned into some hideous creature."

"Telling her would do no good. I don't desire anymore damage done to my palace. The balcony was enough," he said flatly. "And I know you and the rest of the Nereids are no fools. You know why my sister visits."

Dynamene's heart fell once more at the mention of Hera's motives. "Yes, I must say we have figured it out," she mumbled.

"Tell me this. If you know why Hera comes, and what we talk about, why did you feel the need to listen in?" He inquired. His eyes drilled into her.

Her gaze fell back to the ground, and her blush deepened. As if you don't know... Then again, perhaps you truly don't. But... Please don't make me say it.

"Dynamene!" A familiar voice called out, echoing from high above the rocky bluffs.

She jumped and quickly turned towards the source of the voice, letting go of Poseidon's hand. "Actaea? She must have gone to check on me and realized I was missing..."

"You've been out here long enough," Poseidon responded. "It's getting late; return to the palace now."

Dynamene looked back at him, with his moon-bleached hair drifting about his eyes, and was reluctant to follow his words. Of course this would happen just as she had finally seen through the impenetrable wall he always kept up. She wanted to stay, even if just a moment longer. She wanted to talk to him and continue to get to know him. She wanted to keep learning just what went on in that closed mind of his. She wanted to keep listening to the calm, stoic cadence of his voice. She wanted to take his strong hand once more and feel his heartbeat, just as he could feel hers. No, she wanted to step closer and bridge the gap between them, pressing herself to his chest and listening to his heartbeat as close as she could get.

She wanted to stay here forever, just the two of them on the beach in the calm, black night, her looking at him and he, at long last, finally looking back at her.

Her feelings had for him had returned, but now they felt different. No longer did the sensations that they caused scare her. Now she just wanted more, more than she could take in. She wanted to feel this connection to him always.

"Dynamene! Are you down there?" Actaea's voice had gotten closer now; she must be descending the steps to the beach.

Poseidon turned away to look out at the vast darkness of the ocean and sky. Without quite knowing why, or what she expected to come of it, Dynamene reached quickly for his hand one last time. She saw his gaze flicker towards the movement...

But she couldn't bring herself to complete the gesture, and she drew her hand back just as quickly as she had reached out. Before she could bring herself to regret her withdrawal, she turned back towards the stairs and began the careful ascent over rock and sand towards them.

"Dynamene! There you are." Actaea emerged from the valley with a lantern in one hand, relief all over her face. "I went to check on you before bed, and you weren't there. I was afraid you'd..."

"No, no, I'm just fine, Actaea," Dynamene answered quickly, putting her hands on her sister's shoulders. "I was just taking in the night air. I'm feeling a lot better now, so you don't need to worry. I think I just needed some time to decompress for a bit."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it," Actaea sighed, embracing her younger sister. "We've all been concerned for you. If a night stroll on the beach is what you needed to feel better, then you're free to stroll as late as you want."

"Actually, I was just about to turn in for the night anyways. It is getting late," Dynamene continued rather shyly, remembering Poseidon's order. "Should we go back together?"

"That sounds fabulous," Actaea smiled, smoothing back Dynamene's bangs. "After you."

Dynamene returned her smile with the same old brightness that she'd recently lost, before continuing back up the stairs.

Actaea stared after her for a second before setting down the lantern and turning back to dismount the last few stairs to the beach.

Poseidon's figure hadn't moved as he continued to watch the waves roll in and out. Actaea's face stiffened, but she remained still and silent. She continued to watch the god for a moment, thoughts churning, before taking back up the lantern and following her youngest sister's lead back to the palace.

---

Author’s notes: This chapter definitely took me the longest of any thus far. I ended up rewriting some paragraphs because I found myself going off track from my original vision. I had a “wait, wtf are you writing here” moment, which I guess was ultimately necessary to get myself back on track.

So Poseidon isn’t such an empty person after all? maybe Man, all it takes is a hint of brooding vulnerability and the teenage girls come running lol I don’t mean to slander Dynamene, she’s just a girl having her first love and not knowing what to do about it. Things aren’t much easier when your first love is fuCKING POSEIDON

Anyways, how old is Dynamene? Good question. Nereids age at a rate of about 145 years being equivalent to 1 human year. Dynamene was the equivalent of about a nine year old when she came with her sisters to the palace. She’s close to 16 in human years now, so she was probably born around 2300 years prior to this fanfiction. Imagine living that long and still not being full-grown 😭😭😭

Dynamene’s oldest sister, Ianeira, is physiologically equivalent to a human 25 year old, so she would be about 3600 years old. Talk about an age gap between siblings!

#record of ragnarok #poseidon x oc #record of ragnarok poseidon #poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie #fanfiction

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euphoricsunflowers · 4 years ago

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queen’s whore — lee hoseok/wonho

a/n: sorry to anyone named adrian, i just needed a name lol

a/n: hi welcome back to me getting so into a concept and writing out a complex story instead of just writing something sexual for this nsfw blog 😔✌️ i promise the next one will actually be horny

word count: 3.1k

content: only the last section is nsfw and it’s pretty soft, peasant!wonho, queen!fem!reader, kiki and kyun are in this too and honestly kyun in this is my icon, wonho is not treated well by the people so don’t read if that’s uncomfortable for you, like he mentions being called a whore but nobody directly says it to him in what’s written, riding le dick, aftercare i guess??? it’s vv soft at the end, the king is a sexist dick and i literally just looked up royal baby names and his is what came up so sorry to anyone named adrian

summary: hoseok, your secret lover, asks to become your consort so he’s not just seen as some peasant trying to get power by having an affair with the queen. kihyun, a royal advisor, and changkyun, a war strategist, help you do so against a king who is a really, really big asshole.

“oh my darling hoseok, why are you here so suddenly?” you mumble, allowing him into your chambers despite the absurd time. he trudges in, seemingly something disturbing his peace of mind, settling down on the bed, lying back with a miserable expression on his face that haunts your heart. it makes you want to do nothing more than absolve him of all this pain.

his eyes flutter close as he breathes in, taking in your words as if they are the only comfort he has left in the world, “i love you, you know.”

his bluntness startles you, “i do know, hoseok, i love you too.”

“no you do not understand, i really, really love you, i—” he stops, breaking down suddenly. Your heart shatters when he chuckles cathartically, covering his face with his arm out of embarrassment as he cries, “why do they have to say such cruel words? they say i’m fucking the queen so surely i must be trying to take advantage of her status or raise mine, but i am really not! i’m not just your whore!” he shouts, before looking over at you and remembering the situation. he, a common peasant, just cursed in front of you, the queen. Even if you did love him, he so desperately wished to go back and stop himself, “I apologize, my queen, for my words, i— please forgive me for tonight.”

“dear, please do not apologize tonight. you have every reason to be acting irrational right now,” you reach out to grab his hand, and he holds back with every last ounce of strength in his body, “the things people have said about you since the beginning of rumors concerning our… affair, have been vile and invasive. I wish that I could stop them, but I can only do so much without confirming them more. we both know my husband would not appreciate that.”

your husband. the king. not an ounce of love was shared between you two, and yet, even though he expected you to be fine with his constant affairs with other women, he would be livid if he knew you had a lover of your own. for that reason, the rumors concerning hoseok never made it to the king, because the people knew you would probably be in for hell. you were definitely the more well liked out of the two, and that meant that hoseok, a little nobody from a small fishing village in the kingdom, got the brunt of it, “does his opinion have… to matter so much?”

“hoseok...” you murmur with a warning tone, “sweetheart, i… i do not think…. it’s wise to talk about my husband in such a way—”

“you don’t love him! you sleep in separate rooms for god’s sake!” he shouts in a hushed tone, “make me your consort. i am not asking for political power, but i am sick of being called a whore.”

“and you expect me to take the brunt of my husband’s anger?”

“my queen, and more importantly, my love, please don’t imply such a thing. you have the support of the people, and many of your husband’s advisors would love to see him—” he says, and you place a finger over his lips.

“you speak far too loudly for someone trying to convince me to commit a crime.”

“i never said you had to kill him.”

“you were going to.”

“no i was not... because…” he takes a breath in, “i know you think he’ll have your head, but with the way the kingdom views you, and especially how the people view him, he would be a fool to lay a finger on you.”

silence fills the room, and hoseok wants to take it all back. it’s always felt like every time he opened his mouth to speak, nothing good would come of it. he sits up, but stays on the bed as you look away from him, “hoseok…”

he doesn’t answer when you call out his name, even though he knows he should. frankly, he should be on his knees in your presence, but in this room only he felt like you could be equals; he’s once again reminded that you are not, “my queen, i know what i’m asking of you is far too much, i know i’m overstepping and asking you to step into deadly dangerous territory, but… i’m so tired of being viewed like i’m using you, and i’m tired of the things they call me. i’m tired of being nothing to you outside these walls.”

“my dear,” you breathe, speechless at his words. it would be fatal to make one wrong move, but… would it be worth it?

“i’m not going to attempt to guilt trip you, you deserve better than that. if you don’t feel safe doing this, or just simply don’t wish to, i will accept that. and my love will be unwavering no matter what,” he raises your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles, falling to his knees, and resting his forehead against your thigh, “just, please think about me too when you make that decision.”

—

“kihyun,” you murmur, and he perks up hearing your voice as you reach out your hand for him to take, “come here, please. i require you for something.”

“of course, your highness,” he nods softly, letting you lead him to somewhere more quiet. kihyun was a royal advisor, but he was also a good friend to have on your side. he was too smart for you to allow to become an enemy, but he had a good heart. it didn’t take much effort from your husband to get kihyun to… not be fond of him, to put it mildly, “what is the matter?”

“i… i have a favor to ask,” you gulp, the full weight of what you were going to do hitting you hard in that moment, but you push through it. hoseok needed this, “have you heard the rumors about me?”

he bites his lip, but nods, “i— yes, your highness. my lips are sealed if you wish to speak about them.”

“they… are true. and i wish to make him my consort, but…”

“you’re worried about the king’s reaction to knowing you have… a lover,” he finishes the thought for you, and you’re both left to silence, until he speaks up with a chuckle, “forgive me, but you’re in a rough situation, my queen.”

“it’s… it’s not me who’s had to take the worst of it,” you shake your head, “i need to do this, kihyun.”

“i know you do. so tell me what you need me to be specifically, and i will do my best to be exactly that—” kihyun says, before getting interrupted.

“the king must understand the backlash he’ll get from punishing the queen, right?” you hear a voice say, cutting kihyun off.

your heart stops.

it’s all over isn’t it? the king found out about it before you even got the chance to try. you failed hoseok.

“i could attempt to help?” the voice adds on. you turn to see the face that the voice belongs to, and you breathe out a sigh of relief.

“changkyun,” you whisper, a hand over your heart, “you scared me.” *changkyun*. he was a war strategist that worked very closely with your father and now your husband, despite being a rather young strategist when your father was still on the throne. though he runs in the big political leagues, you trusted that kid with your life.

“i apologize, your highness, i seem to have that effect,” he winks, “anyway, i am sure we could convince the king to let it slide and allow the queen to appoint her mystery lover as a consort.”

though changkyun always seems to speak nonsense, his nonsense is giving you too much hope right now that you have to consciously hold yourself together and keep your expectations realistic, “tell me how, changkyun.”

“we could threaten to reveal information that, to be blunt, would ruin the king,” changkyun smirks, “i have been waiting for the chance to screw him over for years.”

“what information do you have?” kihyun speaks up, “and, no matter what it is, you know you’re painting a target on your back if you do this, right?”

changkyun, suddenly somber, nods, “of course i know that this would make me a target for the king, but… i owe it to you, your highness. you’re the reason i am alive. i live to serve you, not the crown. and.. do you think exposing to the kingdom that the king wants to invade our northern allies because they wouldn’t give him their princess to fuck would work? let’s just say, the king is one incredibly unpleasant man.”

you glance over at kihyun, who is in turn, looking over at you, and you mumble, “what do you say we… pay a visit to my husband, just the four of us?” you raise an eyebrow at kihyun, and he just wants to laugh at the obvious death sentence.

“of course, my queen. let’s meet back here after dinner and say hello to him then.”

—

“my king,” kihyun says, entering first. he hears the disgruntled groan of the king before even daring to look up. he keeps his head down.

“what is it, yoo? this better be important,” he spits, and kihyun does his best to keep his cool. now that he’s really thinking about it, maybe they should have… not bothered the king during his personal time.

“the queen wishes to speak with you, your highness,” he mutters, hearing the scoff from the king, he can tell the attention is soon off of him because he hears your footsteps behind him.

“good evening, adrian,” your voice is cold and unwavering as you speak to the king, much different than the kindness and softness in your demeanor when you spoke to others. the difference is night and day.

“for what reason are you in my chambers this evening, y/n? i doubt you’re here for romance,” he chuckles half-heartedly, but you keep your glare pointed at him.

“you would be correct. i’m here to say i… i am appointing a consort.”

he laughs, actually bursts out into a fit of laughter, when you say that, “really?! you?! i hate to tell you, my wife, but that will not be happening.”

“actually, it will be,” kihyun stands up after kneeling, and meeting the king’s startled gaze, “she came here for a reason, and we’re not leaving until we do what we came to do.”

“who is this consort?!” the king doesn’t even spare kihyun more than a glance after he gathers himself together, “i feel bad for the poor thing, he’ll be dead before you even get the chance to do anything for him.”

the thought lingers in your head. that is definitely a possibility. hoseok was definitely physically strong, but there was a good chance he wouldn’t make it out of this alive. you have to remind yourself that this is what hoseok wanted, that he is fully aware of the danger, and that you’re doing this for him. you pull yourself back together, feeling kihyun’s hand on your shoulder, being a comforting and supporting presence, “you will allow it, adrian, i assure you that it’s in your best interest to let this happen.”

“and why is that?!” he shouts, making you flinch a bit, but you’re saved when changkyun comes in. it’s now three against one, and changkyun raises a piece of paper, with his signature smirk in place.

“take a look,” he murmurs, his voice deep and soft. it would be soothing if it wasn’t filling you with the same confident energy that he always has. it’s infectious, in the best way, “i’m sure the people would love to know how you tried to steal the princess of another kingdom away. that’s some real comic book supervillain stuff, my king.”

“and remember, public opinion heavily favors your wife, my king. sure, they’re terrified of you, but i doubt that is enough to stop them from rising up. we wouldn’t want a coup, would we?” kihyun seems to share the same sentiment, his usually respectful and reverent demeanor suddenly disappearing, “so how about settling this here and now?”

—

“hello, and good morning, my people. i hope you are managing well during these hard times. please know i am doing my absolute best to serve you all well and take care of each and every one of you. your needs are incredibly important to me and i wish i could be doing more to make your lives easier. i promise to do everything in my power to help you. please hold me to that if you feel i am lacking.

“today, i am here to confess and to ask that you hear me out. for over a year now, you may have heard rumors about affairs my husband and i have had. i am here to tell you, that at least on my end, the rumors hold true. i have… fallen for someone else. when my husband and i talked this over, we came to the conclusion that our titles mean we rule together, but neither of us have romantic or otherwise feelings for each other.

“as such, i am deciding to do something that… i should have done long ago. my lover— his name is lee hoseok— and i have let him be treated cruelly just to protect myself from rumors. that is something… i do not feel proud about. he is the kindest soul i have ever had the pleasure of loving, and i wish for him to only feel happy feelings for the rest of his existence. starting from today, he shall carry the title of ‘queen’s consort’. please treat him like you would any royalty. calling him what some have will not be tolerated any longer.

“thank you for your time, this has been queen y/n. i wish a kinder tomorrow for you all, take care.”

—

hoseok had been waiting in your chambers since you left to deliver your speech that morning, watching it from the tv in your room. he watched the heart-wrenching moments when he could see the fear and regret within you coming together in one big release. he thinks about all the things he needs to say to you when you get back, but once you’re walking through that door, he was at a loss for words.

“good morning, my hoseok,” you murmur softly, nudging him out of his dazed state, “how are you doing today?”

“i am… amazing. i am doing so well,” he finally breaks out into the brightest smile you’ve ever seen from him. he always gave lopsided grins or small smiles, all full of love, but he truly just seemed so happy, and the sight was incredibly endearing, “come kiss me, please.”

“of course, dear,” you mumble, pulling him by his collar to crash your lips on his. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find a home resting on his beautiful chest and shoulders. you kiss him feverishly, and he reciprocates with the same intensity. you pull back to kiss along his jaw, dropping down to kiss his neck as well, and the room is filled with the beautiful breathy moans he lets escape.

“i love you so, so much, y/n,” he whispers breathlessly, gasping when you bite down. his hands hold your waist, pulling you impossibly close, and god he never wants to let go.

“i know, bunny, i know, and i love you so much more,” you whisper as he whimpers out of need when your knee brushes his crotch, pushing him down on the bed, feeling all up on him under you. it’s exhilarating like always, a feeling he’ll never get used to no matter how much he tries, “tell me, bunny, today is about you, so tell me what you want.”

“c-could you—,” he stutters, always struggling with words when you touch him the way you do, “—please ride me?”

“of course, sweetie,” you giggle, of course he wants that. well, you’ve never been one to deny him what he wants, bunny’s so spoiled.

you both undress rather quickly, even as he struggles to get his shirt off. he pulls you back on top of him as soon as he has the chance, and you immediately kiss him with ferocity, hands massaging the skin of his waist, making him giggle slightly, “hah, that tickles!”

you smile at his cute reactions, before taking his hand and pulling it so his fingers barely graze over your sex, “feel that, angel? that’s all you, this is what you do to me” he groans as he feels the wetness on his fingertips, “now stay still, i promise i’ll make you feel really good.”

“you always do,” he breathes with a smile, meeting your soft gaze for a second before you lower yourself down on him and you both moan simultaneously, and he adds on, “o-oh my god!” you take a second to adjust, but you soon start rocking your hips slowly, gaining speed gradually. nothing else, and nobody else, existed in that moment other than you and him.

“bunny,” you murmur, and he tries to pay attention to your voice, but he’s losing himself in the pleasure, “touch me, will you?” he reaches out to rub your clit as you continue to ride him. god, it’s so easy to see stars, especially when there’s the prettiest one right in front of you. you grasp his hair as you start speeding up, feeling your orgasm coming, “cum with me, hoseok.” he attempts to nod, unable to speak from the warmth begging to burst in his body.

he cries out as you pull one last time, orgasming with the most pornographic moans and look on his face you’ve ever seen. you’re right there with him, and if sucks you don’t get a chance to admire him fully, but that can be saved for later.

once you’re done, having both hit your highs and come down, you take care of him like always. he reaches for the snacks you keep in the drawer of your nightstand. it seemed like the boy was always hungry, but especially so after his soul practically left his body from how good you make him feel. you run him a bath where he just plays with bubbles and asks for nose kisses, but he looks so happy that your heart just melts.

and then you tuck him into bed, warmly dressed with fluffy socks to top it off. sure, it’s only 11 in the morning, but you don’t have anything to do until evening, and he could always use some cuddles.

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiest @rosethefae @staranonthoughts @maknaeronix @multidreams-and-desires @mellowriting

#monsta x #sub monsta x #sub!monsta x #monsta x x reader #monsta x drabbles #monsta x smut drabbles #monsta x smut #monsta x fic #sub!monsta x smut #wonho #lee hoseok #wonho smut #sub wonho #sub!wonho

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dailyrov · 4 years ago

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Well, life’s been stressful, et cetera and so on. Welcome to 2021, which will hopefully be better than 2020, but boy-oh-boy is the bar low.

I was minding my own business today when some kind person dropped a comment on one of my ‘fics (If It Takes a Lifetime). I replied to them and then read through my other replies, relived the story a bit...you know, Something Fanfic Authors Do. I was reminded of something I wanted to post here for a while, but struggled to put into concise wording: my relationship to the series.

My first foray into The Rose of Versailles was in 2008, all thanks to a certain @kippielovesyou who baited me into watching the anime because she claimed the main couple had some things in common with a pairing I was super into at the time. I got hooked. I marathoned the anime and went to work after episode 39 without having gotten any sleep at all. Shift start was at 6:30am. The assembly line started moving. One of my coworkers nudged me. “Hey,” they said. “Did something bad happen? You look miserable.”

I wasn’t miserable so much as emotionally drained. “Just tired,” I said, and focused on my work for the next 8.5 hours. I wasn’t about to tell them that my favorite characters in a television show just died.

I went home and watched the 40th episode. I felt weird afterward. Still drained. Almost...empty.

Not angry. Not betrayed. Just...this really strange sort of blankness that I had rarely felt upon reaching the ending of anything. I recalled a similar feeling at the end of the 1989 film Glory, but no other piece of media could come close to touching it. I would almost call it peace, though the unsettling kind. I’m not supposed to feel peaceful about a tragic ending, right?

But I was hooked.

I downloaded the entire series on a torrent, something I hadn’t done before OR SINCE. I burned it to discs and mailed them to Wisconsin so that my oldest internet friend (now husband) could watch it. He cried at the end. I forced my sister to sit down with me to watch the whole thing. She cried, too. I wrote fanfiction. I drew fanart (it was bad, don’t @ me). I screamed about it to countless friends on Livejournal. I recommended the series to everyone I knew and a lot of those people joined me in writing fanfiction.

What a time to be in fandom!! We flooded the fandom with regular English fanfic for the first time ever. The fandom was hopping. I met two amazing women (Kasia and Loulou) who spoiled me rotten for fanfiction reviews for the rest of my life. I bought the French manga and read the entire thing. I fell in love with one specific page (you get one guess as to which that is lol). I distinctly remember crying twice while reading the manga in a language I could only stumble through: first when Andre tried to count the stairs in the house, miscounted, and tripped, and secondly when Oscar threw herself onto her mother’s lap crying that she was a human being with feelings.

I still get emotional thinking about these scenes, particularly the latter one. The Rose of Versailles got me through so much. I honestly don’t know where I would be, or who I would be, without it. There is no way Kippie could have known that I would need RoV. For her, it was as simple as, “I enjoyed it, and I think you would, too. Because shipping.” And yeah, I’m a shipper who did enjoy it for that, but it became SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT TO ME.

I don’t want to spit the whole long tale out here, but shortly after I obsessed over RoV, I had my own identity crisis. It was a tough time for me, but it also cemented my future as an essayist who focuses primarily on the literary device known as Identity. When I went to college in 2012 that was my focus in literature, and nearly every essay I wrote I chose to explore it in some fashion. Identity. What makes a character, what shapes them, what changes or moves or motivates them. RoV motivated that love for Identity and my essays motivated the English Department chair to give me a selective scholarship (that they chose, it was never applied for). The reasoning they cited to me was that I had shown a rare passion for literature and the characters within. For the first time in my life I felt validated in my obsession with Identity.

I was in my early 20s when I first saw The Rose of Versailles, and something about the character of Oscar spoke to me, but I couldn’t quite name it. I felt that I understood her, and not just for being a woman working in a man’s field. There was something else. But what? I couldn’t figure it out.

A few years later I started seeing an uptick in romantic and sexual identities online. Demisexual. Asexual. Aromantic. Greyace. Something clicked—for me, personally, as well as my understanding of the characters. And years later, Tumblr flooded with information about ADHD presenting in women, and autism in ladies. And my brain went, OH!!!! OH!!! OH I SEE!!

I know a lot of people love Oscar for their own reason, and I think that’s probably one of my favorite things about the series: that the main character is almost universally loved by everyone, and that she receives this love no matter how the individual fans choose to view her.

Something specifically that bothered me many years ago was a certain persistent disdain for Oscar not returning André’s feelings earlier. She was blind, she was stupid, she was mean, and the worst of all: she was Bad for these reasons.

My God, when I tell you now that the scene of Oscar falling onto her mother’s lap in tears over being treated like a doll made me cry, I know why. I spent years of my life wondering why I was born the way I was. I agonized over it. I didn’t want to be “normal.” I was happy being me. But nobody else was. My sister once accused me of not having feelings. I think of that moment every time I see Oscar struggling in RoV. She’s a private person who struggles privately, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel things. And there Oscar was in the manga, having lived her life the best way she knew how, only to have her father pull the rug out from under her without deigning to even explain himself to her. Suddenly, she was not allowed to have an identity of her own. Suddenly, she was not good enough as she was.

Do you know what marriage would do to someone like Oscar, particularly at that point in her life? It would kill her. How terrifying a fate to face, no control over her own life, or feelings, or even her own body.

There’s an important scene in the manga and anime where André considers that Oscar appears “as cold as ice” to others, but personally recognizes the fire of her passionate heart and finds that endearing about her... I always felt that he liked that about her because it was a side of her only he understood, only he recognized for what it was. Like she trusted that part of her in his presence and knowing this helped that love grow. I still think that’s true.

But beyond that, I think André is on the ace spectrum himself, and understands better than anyone how Oscar’s feelings work. (There’s so much more to it than that, but I’ll leave it there for now...)

The part of the fandom that felt Oscar was selfish or uncaring for not loving André back sooner...miss the point, I think, of her character, and of the romance of the series. It’s not that Oscar is unfeeling. It’s not that she can’t love André. It’s not even that she’s choosing not to love him. In my opinion, it’s that she’s ace and the way she shows her love and care is not only different than a person might expect it to be, but also difficult to express—though whether this is due to her upbringing or her romantic identity (or both!) is up to interpretation.

More importantly, she does not owe him herself.

(And, I think beyond all this, usually people who feel this way really adore André, and while that’s great, I think they’re ignoring a key component of his character, which is: he loves Oscar and never even once so much as suggests that she owes him anything.)

Anyway, that was a long post to say: I view Oscar as ace and ADHD and I wish I could go back to 2008 me and tell myself about both of these things, because it would have saved me a lot of worry and heartache all those years ago. But it’s okay, anyway, because I still felt that connection to Oscar, even without the specific words, and I knew André loved Oscar anyway, even though he knew she was different.

If you’re reading this now, in 2021 or later, I hope you’ve been able to find a similar connection to one or several of the RoV characters. It’s not often we get to see slices of ourselves in the media, written in a sympathetic and loving way. Having that made all the difference to me when I needed it the most. ♥ And I hope it’s had a positive impact on your life, too.

#The Rose of Versailles #rov #essays from versailles #Oscar Francois de Jarjayes #tl;dr: oscar is such a good character

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rightsockjin · 4 years ago

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Day 1

Summary: You, Y/N, have just come off of the bachelor dejected and rejected. What’s a girl to do other than to go home and cry? Join paradise of course! This is a series and will be updated regularly. The more interaction it gets, the quicker chapters will be put out! Please like and reblog guys! Thank you!

Rating for chapter: K+

Genere: Romance, slight angst

Word count: 7,862

Warnings: Nothing for this chasers but will probably have warnings later. Quite obviously, this is fiction so don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s for fun.

-AdminKimmy

This wasn’t the ideal situation to be in. You weren’t the kind of girl to do something like this. You had never really wanted to be on one of these shows that seemed to glorify drama and sexuality yet here you were, in a car, on your way to something called Paradise. You were embarrassed to say the least. Or maybe it’s just that you felt like you should be. You really, actually felt a bit excited. For all you knew, you were well on your way to meeting the love of your life. He could be at this same place, at the same time, looking exactly for you.

You had your legs crossed and your hands on your knees. Your foot was bouncing nervously and you were biting your lip all the while trying to keep a slight smile on your face. The camera in front of you didn’t help to calm your nerves whatsoever. You briefly looked down at your chest to make sure that the multitude of buttons on your lilac dress remained secured and safe. You hadn’t worn this dress ever before and earlier this exact morning you had thought that it would have been a good idea to wear it. Now, it felt like maybe you should have worn something you were a little more comfortable in. Something a little more you. But it was too late for that, obviously. You were now stuck in the pretty dress that you had pulled on and you just had to be satisfied.

Still, you felt the worry tugging at the back of your mind. A curl fell over your eye and this was what prompted you to stop biting your lip so you could instead blow the hair out of your eyelashes. This was another choice you weren’t sure about. You had curled your hair. Would everyone think you were fake for fixing your hair arguably glamorously for the beach?

Your heart squeezed as the producer who had been assigned to you cleared his throat to get your attention. You jumped in your seat slightly, your head snapped up to meet his apologetic brown eyes which were shielded by a pair of thick, square glasses. They rested low on his relatively small nose and made him look a little like a nerd. You assumed that they seemed to fit him awkwardly mostly because of the black head set covering his ears, the mic was pulled slightly away from his admittedly full lips. He had a clipboard in his hands as well as a pen and since you had stepped in the car, he had been glancing anxiously at the papers in his lap. You couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if maybe he was new to all of this and that’s why he seemed so on edge, but you assumed that it would be a little rude to ask.

“Sorry,” he slurred looking down at his clipboard again and tapping the pen anxiously on his cheek, “I just have some questions to ask you before we arrive.”

“Oh,” you answered, dropping your hand from your heart and placing it back on your knee.

“Okay. Sure. Shoot.”

Mentally, you cringed at yourself. Would it be too much to ask of yourself to not say anything cringe worthy?

“Okay,” the producer said, a smile pulling at his lips at your answer still looking at the questions, “I’ll take a shot.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He was cute. You couldn’t lie to yourself about it. Since you had seen him at the airport a couple of days prior, you had noticed that he was attractive but you weren’t here to flirt with the staff. You were here to find a boyfriend and potentially a husband. So instead of dwelling on how cute he was, you chose instead to keep in mind who this man was. A glorified handler of sorts.

“So, why did you want to be in Bachelor in Paradise?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the producer but he shook his head and pointed down at the camera instead. You smiled and nodded, trying to keep your nerves at bay and your voice even.

“Well…after being on the bachelor for all of two seconds, I felt like maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have like sixty girls dating the same guy. I guess I don’t stand out much at first so I thought that narrowing down the dating pool and adding a couple more men would help my chances? Honestly, I just wanted a second chance at this whole reality show dating thing.”

The producer nodded, his eyes hooded slightly like you had maybe said something wrong. You thought back to your answer and realized that you had spoken a bit fast. It might be hard to edit it later on.

“Sorry,” you said, “I tend to ramble when I’m nervous.”

“It’s alright,” the producer said, adjusting his glasses and writing something down before he asked another question.

“Who do you hope is in Paradise if anyone and what do you hope will come out of it?”

A specific face popped in your mind. The hope that this person was going to be in Paradise as well was what had pushed you over the edge to apply.

“I hope that the last runner up is there,” you said with confidence, “Seokjin. I honestly can’t believe that he was rejected. That last girl was crazy. He’s so funny and good looking. I’d love to get to know him. Honestly though, I’m not expecting anything from this. I just want to see how things go. I just really hope that Jungkook isn’t here. After the last season…I just don’t want to see him. I didn’t have a lot of time on the show but he just felt so…disingenuous and shallow. He was nothing like what I thought he would be like.”

The producer snorted. You blinked up at him but he cleared his throat again and continued on as if he hadn’t just laughed at what you said. It rubbed you the wrong way.

“Is something funny?”

The producer looked up, a smile still sparkling in his eyes as he realized what it could have seemed like to you.

“Oh uh…no I’m so sorry, that was unprofessional. It won’t happen again Miss Y/N. I just have one more question for you if that’s alright, then we should be good.”

You crossed your arms and sat up straighter. You honestly felt a little judged. If this producer was going to be the one constantly questioning you, you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to be honest with his judgy ass.

“Right okay go on.”

“What would be the worst case scenario for you coming out of this experience?”

You raised an eyebrow. Isn’t that obvious?

“Well obviously being single-”

“I’m sorry Miss Y/N, could you phrase your answer with ‘The worst case scenario would be’ for editing purposes?”

You held back an eye roll. After that chortle, your annoyance seemed to be on the surface of your skin.

“Sure,” you conceded, “The worst case scenario would be for me to come out of this single or looked over again. I feel like I’ve worked a lot on myself since the last time and I don’t want to be ignored again.”

The producer hissed but jotted something down. Suddenly, you remembered that the producers of this show were notorious for making people look a certain way and took things out of context for entertainment sake. Had you come across too harshly? You didn’t want to be the bitchy girl on the show.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly as he began to turn back around in his seat, “did that come out too bitchy?”

The producer tilted his head slightly, “Uh, no. I don’t think so. I think it was just the right amount of bitchy to be honest.” He shrugged then turned fully to the front. Your heart sank.

“You’re not going to make me look like a crazy person are you?”

Again, you winced at your word choice. You had seen how they could twist this out of context. You should be much more careful with what you were saying.

“Mm… probably not.”

Probably? Probably not? The greenest trees you had ever seen suddenly took up the view from your seat. You were nearing the film sight. You could still see the car that was filming your car following behind, but where there were only streets and buildings before, there was now open blue skies and greenery so beautiful it almost took your breath away.

“That’s not very reassuring,” you said looking out of the window and placing a hand over your heart just to feel it beat. It grounded you.

“I don’t usually do the editing so I can’t say for sure, but there’s this other girl who arrived a little before you and she was super defensive so I feel like the title of bitchiest has probably gone to her already.”

You felt your shoulders relax a bit at that but a sliver of fear wormed his way into your body. You hoped that she wouldn’t actually be a bitch. You felt a little bad for her.

“How do you think they’ll make me look? The forgettable one?”

The producer didn’t answer right away. Instead, he picked up his phone and typed something out. He then held out his phone to you without turning.

You took the phone with uncertainty. You looked down and noticed that he had his notes open and what he’s been typing was directed at you.

If you don’t want to be shown in a bad lighting, I recommend you don’t say things like “did that sound too bitchy” or “I’m the forgettable one”. That is only giving them ideas as to what to brand you. Be positive.

Your heart sank. He was right. You had seen it many times before and you were making all the mistakes that you said you weren’t going to make. You decided to type back instead of answering out loud.

You’re probably right. I guess I’m just nervous. I’m scared. I’ll try to be positive.

You handed the phone back to him with a tap on his shoulder. He took the device without hesitation. He held it a bit away from his face then began to type frantically. You felt like you were buzzing. Maybe it was the cameras or the fact that you could now see the resort. You couldn’t be sure which.

“Namjoon,” said the driver with a chastising tone to his voice, “You know you shouldn’t be talking to her like that. Speak with your voice. The editors will complain that they don’t have any footage.”

Namjoon. Why did that name sound familiar?

“Right sorry Sejin ssi,” Namjoon answered looking down at his phone awkwardly then over his shoulder at you. He seemed to be debating whether to show you what he’d written or not now that he’d been chastised. After a couple more seconds, he sighed and clicked his phone off. You frowned. You felt like what he was going to say was important.

You let yourself look out the window again just as the car turned left into the parking of the resort. Now you knew it was the fact that you were so close. The resort was enormous. It seemed to span for a good three miles. The walls were painted a vibrant yellow and the roof offset it with a deep warm brown. Small shells lined the front door and the driveway was littered with sand and kept shrubs. A plethora of flowers decorated the stairway leading to the entrance. Your heart skipped a beat. This was it.

You knew you weren’t the first person to arrive. There were already people at the resort waiting to meet you. If that wasn’t terrifying and exciting, then you didn’t know what was.

“Okay,” Namjoon said as the driver- Sejin- parked the car. You sat at attention, ready to do as he said.

“This is the villa but right now Chris is waiting for you at the entry to the beach access we have reserved for the show and we want to record that now since more people are on their way already. Sejin-ssi and I will take your bags to your room then I will meet up with you on the beach. Try not to talk to me directly too often unless there’s something urgent. At the end of the day,” he paused there for what may have been a bit too long, “you are here to meet the other people here, not me. Think of me as like a shadow for you, if that makes sense.”

You nodded. The reality of what you were doing had suddenly hit you square in the chest. Your body was on high alert. Every nerve in your body was ready to jump with the slightest thing. You were throwing yourself into the fray again.

Flashes of the last time you were on a show like this one crossed your mind’s eye. You tapped your chest as if you could stop the ache of last time from being present once again. You had gotten over that slight heart break. Jungkook hadn’t appreciated you and that wasn’t your fault. It was his for not seeing how amazing you were. You couldn’t let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game. This time would be different.

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Great. Just walk through the right side of the villa and you should see the cameras and Chris. It’s hard to miss.”

“Okay.”

You opened the door without a second thought and stepped out into the Mexican sun. The humidity was already prominent. You could almost feel your hair frizz. The sun was strong on your exposed shoulders. You should have put on sunscreen before arriving. Oh well. It would have to be something to keep in mind for the next time.

You heard the two other doors open and out walked Sejin and Namjoon. Both men were much taller than you, even in your beachy wedges. They both wore jean shorts and a black shirt. You could already see the men sweating in the summer heat. You weren’t surprised. It was almost unbearably hot but you had bigger things to worry about.

“Miss Y/N-“

“Please just call me Y/N. The whole Miss thing makes me feel old.”

You looked over your shoulder as Sejin opened the trunk that held your luggage. Namjoon was standing next to the taller man with a raised eyebrow and a slight smile on his lips.

“Okay sure. Y/N, go ahead and go to the beach access. I’ll be there shortly.”

A strained smile crossed your face as you nodded and took a deep breath. With all of the courage you could muster, you took a step in the direction of the shooting sight. Like a spell being broken, the nerves dissolved slightly. You pulled your shoulders back and adjusted your hair. You were beautiful. Confident. Interesting. Attractive. Bachelor in Paradise was going to be different for you. You could just feel it.

As you walked along the path that Producer Namjoon had suggested, you felt yourself begin to sweat. The sun and humidity were starting to get to you already. Oh how you wished that this season was taking place in the alps somewhere instead of in the middle of summer on a beach in Mexico.

From a distance, you could see Chris, the host of the show, speaking to a man who wore a similar uniform to that of Namjoon and Sejin. He had glasses as well and was a little on the bigger side. He seemed to be telling Chris something but as soon as they saw you approaching, the man walked away with a pat on his shoulder and a cue to the camera man.

Chris, the professional he was, turned on the charm instantly. He smiled brightly at you as if you were an old friend though you were pretty sure he barely remembered you. Regardless, you smiled at him and prepared yourself for an awkward hug.

You waved at him and he waved back enthusiastically, his blond hair shone in the sun like spun gold. You wondered how much he paid for it.

“Is that Y/N?”

Taken aback, you looked behind you as if you thought he was talking to someone else. When you saw no one behind you, you realized that he actually did remember you, or the director had told him who you were.

“Me? Oh uh yeah! I didn’t think you would remember who I was,” you said. Namjoon’s words came back to you in that instant. Here was yet another thing to twist. You really needed to think before you spoke.

“How could I not remember who you are!? You left our last bachelor literally speechless with your entrance.”

You cringed at the memory. You had dressed really old Hollywood and paid a fortune to have your hair done up and while Chris was right, Jungkook had been left speechless, it hadn’t amounted to much as he sent you home almost instantly.

“It didn’t really help though,” you laughed as you neared and he held his arms up as you had thought he would to give you a hug. You walked into it unceremoniously, careful not to smudge the lipstick you wore on his light blue shirt. After a second of back pats, he let you free and you chuckled awkwardly.

“Well it looks like you came here with a similar approach. Do you think it will help you out this time around?”

“Am I overdressed?”

“Oh no, you’re fine. I just wanted to gauge your thoughts on this season.”

You unconsciously bit your lip and looked up at the sky in thought. The clouds were so white and fluffy they almost made you wish you could touch them. In that moment, a cloud shaped like a heart floated above you and your excitement soared. You pointed up at it to get Chris to look which to his credit he did without hesitation.

“Look! A heart! That’s gotta be a good sign!”

“Uh,” Chris stuttered, “Yeah it must be. Do you think anyone is going to be excited to see you?”

You smiled at the cloud as it morphed into shapeless blobs before you looked back down at Chris to answer his question.

“I hope so. I hope someone will want to date me. I came here to find love after all.”

“Yes, well, it looks like you’re about to find out. Why don’t you go ahead and meet up with the rest of the contestants that have arrived?”

Chris gestured to the stone walls that served as the entrance to the back side of the villa and you felt your heart drop. This was it. You were about to see who else had made it to Paradise.

With a final hug and a nod, you pulled your dress up and descended the moss covered stairs. It was like walking into the twilight zone of sorts. Reality seemed to melt away as you traveled further into the beach access. Suddenly, the wall gave way to bushes and palm trees you had seen so many times on TV and you felt yourself light headed.

“Someone else is here,” you heard a male voice yell. You felt a shiver run up your spine. As you took the final steps into the clearing. You plastered a smile on your face so you wouldn’t look threatening and near the cabana you saw multitudes of people already sitting and waiting and talking to one another. You could see two girls sitting together as well as a single woman sitting away from the Cabana alone. You made a mental note to go talk to her later.

At the bar, were four guys all of which looked extremely close to each other and very handsome. When your eyes landed on the one farthest to the right, your heart stopped. There he was in all of his glory. The fabled Kim Seokjin. Even from this distance he was stunning. He had lips like pillows and skin like silk. He was in a salmon colored button up and some khaki cargo shorts. His hair was black now and kept long which you guessed made it hot since it was already kind of gross outside, but the slight glisten of his skin only made him seem less approachable.

You forced yourself to look at the other men and realized you recognized them all as well. None of these men had been the actual Bachelor but they had been on seasons of the bachelorette.

Kim Taehyung was the runner up on Yuri’s season which had shocked the world in its entirety. The man was a tall glass of water and on top of that he seemed to be extremely caring, so when the bachelorette of the time had rejected his marriage proposal, it was a shock to say the least. More so, it was a shock that he hadn’t been chosen to be the next bachelor. People had started the petition.

Next to him was an older man. He had black hair and a severe undercut. He was drinking what looked to be whisky with a heavily ringed finger. He was hunched over slightly and his oversized shirt hung off of him so you could see into it if you wanted to. He was pale. Nearly as white as his shirt but his stoney exterior was enough to keep you intrigued. Min Yoongi. He was rich. That much you knew. He was some sort of architecte who’d become a psychologist and after having finished his career, he realized he wanted to be in love and was convinced to go on the show by a friend of his that worked on it. Who that friend was, the world never knew, but he was on a particularly uninteresting season of the bachelorette. He was the only thing you remembered about that show.

Finally, next to him was someone you knew was much younger than most of the people there. Choi Soobin. He may have been younger, two years to be exact, but he was by far the tallest man in the house as of yet. He towered over Yoongi in the stool next to him. He had a tall fruity looking drink in his enormous hand and was taking sips from it every so often. He had been voted off his own season of the Bachelorette because Katie, the bachelorette, wasn’t into being a noona.

It was a mistake for her. Soobin had been the most good looking man on her season and she had ended up with no proposals. That must have hurt her ego. Then again, she was kind of a jerk if you remembered correctly from your own season of the bachelor. She had been one of the three finalists for Jungkook but he had gone with some girl that was clearly all wrong for him and they had broken off their engagement shortly after the show aired.

“Hi guys,” you heard your voice say. Already, the two girls who were seated together glared at you though you didn’t know who they were so you had no idea why they did this. The men on the other hand, looked chipper. They stood instantly and waited for you to arrive. You stepped into the Cabana and realized that even with heels, it was going to be a challenge to reach Soobin. He seemed to see this as well and stooped town to gently hug you. His smile reached his eyes which squinted prettily. He smelled a little like linens and cotton. It was refreshing and you wondered if it was his clothes, or his hair that gave off such a delightful scent.

“Hi, I’m Soobin,” he said after he had pulled away. His voice was deeper than you expected and you blinked up at him.

“Hi. Nice to meet you. My name is Y/N.”

Almost instantly, without waiting for Soobin to reply, another set of arms wrapped around you. Taken aback, you hugged the person back and felt his wide shoulders.

“I’m Seokjin but you can call me Jin! It’s nice to meet you!”

Your heart stopped. Here he was. The Kim Seokjin, hugging you! You tried to keep your nerves at bay so that you could make a good impression. You knew that later, you would have to talk to a camera about how you felt and you wanted to appear cool and collected.

“Wow Seokjin! So nice to meet you as well!”

He gave you an extra squeeze then let you breathe, though he was holding onto your shoulders examining you. You felt self continuous. Would he find a lot of flaws? Not all of the world could be nearly scientifically perfect like him.

“Wow you are just gorgeous! I can’t believe the kid kicked you out of the show so quickly! What a prick!”

Your eyes went wide. Had Seokjin watched your season? And he remembered you? Wow. It was almost worth not making it halfway through the show.

“Yeah I can’t believe Jungkook let her go,” said Taehyung from behind Jin. His eyes narrowed at the older man who only winked at him and stepped back.

“Oh well, lucky for us,” he said, opening his arms wide. He was weaning a blue and white striped shirt that was tucked into dark blue shorts. His dark brown hair was pushed back by a bandana that seemed to be matching Yoongi’s. You chuckled to yourself before stepping into the hug. His arms wrapped around your frame easily but he only held onto you for a second in fear of being disrespectful.

“My name is Taehyung.”

“Hey, yeah I know.” If you could hit yourself, this would be the time to. “I mean, I watched your season. My name is Y/N.”

“I know,” he reciprocated, “I watched yours too.”

You didn’t have time to react as Taehyung winked at you then moved aside to introduce you to the last man.

“This is Yoongi. He’s a little grumpy because it’s so early and he’s usually asleep at this time. Right hyung?”

Yoongi took a prolonged sip of his whisky before he spoke and glared at his...friend? He stood from the stool. This man was significantly shorter than the rest but his presence seemed to take up the whole room.

“I’m not usually asleep at three in the afternoon you little shit,” he whined pushing Taehyung lightly on the shoulder. His glare seemed misplaced on his cute face. He almost seemed like a baby when he was mad. It was the least threatening thing you had ever seen.

“He did get one thing right. I’m Yoongi,” he said, holding out a hand. He had been the only person not to hug you. You wondered if this meant that he was already not interested in you.

Sensing your unease, Taehyung stepped in once again, “Don’t worry about his lack of affection Y/N. Yoongi hyung is just a little awkward when it comes to women.”

“Taehyung,” Yoongi warned, his eyes blazing at the taller man.

“I’m just messing with you hyung!”

You took Yoongi’s hand and shook it carefully. You could feel that your hands were a little sweaty and you worried he’d find it gross. Yoongi showed no signs of disgust though. He smiled softly at you then offered you his seat at the bar. You smiled brightly at him and was ready to take the seat but then you remembered the girls and realized you should go introduce yourself to them as well. If they weren’t going to do the polite thing and introduce themselves then you would do it.

“I’d love to stay but I should go say hi to them as well,” you said, tilting your head towards the girls. Taehyung did nothing to hide his dejected feelings. His lips turned down in a frown. Yoongi elbowed him and he straightened out his expression instantly.

“Okay go ahead. Do you mind if we speak later though?” Taehyung asked hopefully and your heart raced. You may have shown up partially for Jin but you weren’t going to deny spending some time with the most handsome man in the world. That would be plain stupid.

“Of course! After I greet everyone, you’re the first on my list.”

Taehyung’s eyes lit up. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jin’s face turn into an attractive scowl but he said nothing and you excused yourself.

You first walked over to the two girls who had been scowling at you this entire time. One of them had bleach blonde hair that was tied back into a long flowing ponytail. She had the prettiest blue eyes and her features reminded you of a doll. She was petite and beautiful. Too bad the scowl on her face was unflattering. Her friend was quite pretty as well. She had dark brown hair that was cut sharply at her shoulders. It was loose and flowing in the wind showing off her highlights. She had freckles all over her shoulders and some scattered on her nose. She seemed to be a bit taller than the blonde girl though, this evident by the way she hunched slightly in her seat to be at ear level.

You forced a smile on your face as you approached. They seemed to exchange a knowing look and shifted their expressions. Now, two perfectly white teeth smiles beamed up at you.

“Hi,” you said, waiting for them to stand, but they only sat and waited as if you were meant to do the same.

“Uh… My name is-”

“We know who you are,” said the blonde girl. Her voice was squeaky and high pitched. She reminded you very much of a barbie.

“Oh you do? I thought no one remembered me.”

“Are you kidding? No one could believe Jungkook sent you home so quickly,” said the brunette.

“Really?” This was hard to believe for you. You assumed you had been too boring and everyone could tell.

“Yeah. You’re super pretty,” Agreed her friend, but then something shifted in the air and their smiles seemed less friendly and more threatening. “Just so you know, Kim Taehyung and Kim SeokJin are taken.”

Your heart sank. And so the drama began.

“Oh really? They didn’t mention that they already-”

“Well they are. Stay away from them and we shouldn’t have any problems. ‘Kay?” The Blonde asked, her voice was deceivingly perky.

You weren’t in the mood to argue. It seemed to you like both Taehyung and Seokjin weren’t exactly set on anyone. If Taehyung’s invitation was anything to go by but you knew that indulging in shananigans such as this would only make your life much harder here.

“Got it. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Glad we understand each other, “ said the brunette, without warning or dismissal, they stood and walked over to the men. The blonde instantly threw her arms around Seokjin and the brunette bent down half way and stuck her admittedly nice ass out next to Taehyung. Both men seemed civil enough. You felt a slight pang at the sight but you pushed it aside. There were more men to come and you still had at least one more introduction to make. One of those two must be the girl that Namjoon had warned you about.

With slight hesitance, you walked over to the girl who was sitting by herself on a chair near the ocean. She seemed pretty relaxed. She was leaning back on her wrists. Her short legs were bare and her feet were encased in some cute brown sandals. She had a loose white knitted shirt over what looked to be a one piece blue swimsuit covered in flowers. It dipped low on her chest and showed off a little bit of cleavage. A pretty straw hat sat on her medium length wavy hair. She seemed totally unbothered by it all. For a second, you wondered if she even was a part of the show but the mic strapped to her back was a dead give away.

“Um hey,” you said uncertainty. You didn’t want to bother her after all but at the same time, you really did want to make at least one friend that wasn’t one of the men. It would be pretty lonely if you didn’t.

The girl slowly looked over at you. Her expression was polite. She didn’t exactly smile, though you swore you saw the corners of her lips tilt up.

“Hi,” her voice was soft which was a contrast to the initial coldness that she exuded. You smiled at her as if this would show that you weren’t there to harass her. She mirrored your smile.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to introduce myself but if you want to be left alone I can go?”

The girl sat up straight instantly, “No it’s okay. My name is Alexandria but you can call me Alex.”

Relief swept through you at her friendly tone. You walked closer and sat slightly behind her on her lounge chair. She adjusted so that she was sitting parallel to you. She seemed a little nervous and you saw that in yourself. You could at least keep eachother company.

“Alex! Okay hi! My name is Y/N.”

“That’s a pretty name,” she complimented, “It’s nice to meet you. I know i must look weird being so far from everyone but those two girls kind of freaked me out and all the guys are really tall so I thought I’d take a second to breathe.”

“Yeah, those two were...something else,” you agreed, “And that Soobin guy has to be like seven feet tall!”

“He’s six two,” she corrected then quickly covered her mouth. A blush covered her cheeks and you chuckled.

“You like him then?”

Alexandria shook her head quickly, “I just always find out how tall people are before if I can. I’m really short so height is a big deal.”

Indeed, as you looked at her, you realized you were about a head taller than her. You yourself weren’t that tall so this girl must be-

“I’m four eleven.”

“Oh my God,” you said without thinking. This time you blushed.

“I’m so sorry that came out wrong. I’ve just never met someone so short! And these guys are…”

“Huge,” she finished.

“Completely.”

A gargle of noise drew your attention back to the bigger group. At some point, while you had been distracted, another girl had arrived. That made the total count four guys to five girls.

This girl was very different to the rest of the girls already here. She was wearing a loose pink romper and some circular sunglasses. Her hair was cut short at her jaw and it was dark brown and straight. She was very tan and curvy. Gladiator sandals adorned her muscular calves. It was no surprise that the men and now, the girls, were gawking at her. Romper cut low to her chest and ran nearly to her shorts. She exuded confidence.

“Looks like the competition is stiff,” Alexandria said. You nodded and stood to go greet her. You expected Alex to follow but she didn’t move.

“Don’t you wanna go say hi?”

“Mm.. maybe later. She can come to me if she wants.” You blinked at her.

“Okay well, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah later.”

You didn’t know how to feel about her. She seemed nice enough but a little closed off. You guessed you had six weeks to find out.

You made your way carefully to the group which had migrated a bit to greet the new girl. The men each took turns hugging the girl and to no one’s surprise, Yoongi held out only a hand to shake. Taehyung rolled his eyes at his friend this time but said nothing. As you approached, the girl looked over at you. She was also shorter than you were but not nearly as much as Alex. The sea of men before her parted to let you through. A weird tension rested in the air.

“Hi,” she said, her voice like honey, “I’m Julie.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” she said unabashedly, hugging you.

“Wow you’re a really affectionate person huh?”

“You could say that,” she joked, “How is everyone doing so far?”

“Pretty good, “ said Seokjin, “It’s hard not to be when there're so many beautiful women arriving.”

The blonde chose that moment to wrap an arm around Seokjin’s bicep and giggle like her life depended on it. You fought yourself not to roll your eyes.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” Julie answered stepping up directly to Jin and taking his hand, “Would you be interested in telling me what I’ve missed out on?”

Seokjin’s eyes seemed to pop out of his head as he shook off the blonde and let Julie lead him away towards a canopy over a comfortable looking bed.

The look on her face was worth the slight jealousy you felt as Seokjin walked away entranced by the woman’s curves. Awkwardly, you looked at the rest of the group and noticed that the brunette was sulking somewhere behind. Taehyung must have shut her down or something.

“Hey Y/N.” You looked back to the group and realized that said man was speaking to you. His hair had curled a little at the ends with the humidity of the day. It was attractive.

“Could I talk to you now?”

You smiled at him. It was incredibly flattering to have him want to speak with you specifically.

“Yeah! Totally.”

A shock of electricity ran through your body as his long fingers entwined with yours. His hand dwarfed yours. If you were honest with yourself, Taehyung was everything you could possibly want in a man. He was tall, good looking, he seemed to be funny and even respectful. Things could have gone much worse if you were honest. He was a catch.

He led you a bit away from the noise of the Cabana and to the pool. No one was really there so you guys had the space to yourselves to really talk. You could still see the main section of the beach from here so if you were needed you would be able to tell. The bubbles of the jacuzzi were soothing to listen to. You could almost feel the jets on your back. Just the thought made your shoulders roll back and your head lull. You heard Taehyung chuckle but you didn’t mind. It didn’t feel like he was laughing at you.

“Sorry, I just love hot tubs. I can’t wait to get in,” you explained looking at Taehyung. He smiled brightly at you.

“We can get in if you want! I’ve been dying to get in the water.”

You giggled and shoved his chest lightly, “I’m not wearing a swimsuit under this and I didn’t put on any sunscreen. I also don’t want to mess up my hair just yet. It took a long time to get it like this.”

“We could just get in like this. I’m actually not wearing swim trunks either. I’m okay with getting a little wet if you are. As for your hair,” He said as I opened my mouth to protest, “I have a hair tie.”

He let go of your hand and stepped behind you, pulling your sleek hair off your shoulders. You could tell that you were already getting a little sunburned but his breath on your back made you completely forget about it.

He delicately pulled your hair up and tied it into a bun on the top of your head, a couple of strands escaped his hold and framed your face. He must have done people’s hair before because he was done quickly and he hadn’t pulled your hair once. He didn’t move away when he was done though. He placed his hands on your shoulder and leaned in close to your ear.

“Take off your shoes,” he whispered. Without question, you did what he said. You set your shoes by one of the chairs and as soon as you had straightened his hands were on your waist.

“Is this ok?”

Yes. Of course. Was he really asking that? Was he kidding? Had he looked in a mirror?

“Yeah, it’s okay,” you said. Suddenly, Taehyung picked you up off your feet by the waist and tossed you into the hot tub, dress and all. You screamed as the water splashed around you. Usually, something like this would make you furious but not too much after, Taehyung waddled in after you and sat down, the water at his shoulder. He smiled up at you as your dress soaked up the hot water and floated around you almost ethereally.

“Wow… how is it that you’re more beautiful now?”

The anger rushed out of you instantly and you waddled over to him. You placed your hands on his shoulders and his legs were open so you could stand between them. His hands fell to your hips again. He was laying it on thick. You knew that, but honestly, you didn’t mind. You were here to find love. What better way to do that than to throw yourself into it head first. The sun beat down on your skin but you knew that the warmth you felt wasn’t from the ray or the water but from the excitement that so quickly, someone had shown an interest in you.

Like a magnetic force, you felt yourself lean down. Taehyung was reaching up too, his wet hand was now at your neck. It was like a spell. You would never have done something like this before. You were always the kind of person to take things slow, but you had six weeks to fall in love and you realized that maybe you would have to speed up your regular process. Would you regret this later? Maybe. But in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Y/N!”

The deep voice of Producer Namjoon made you both jump apart. A groan escaped Taehyung’s lips. Embarrassment flooded your body. What must he think of you? He’d left you alone for what couldn’t be more than a couple of hours and already you were going to kiss a complete stranger.

“Producer Namjoon?”

Namjoon furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the name but he shook his head and moved past it. He gave Taehyung a weird look before he focused on you again.

“I’m sorry to interrupt whatever it was that was about to happen but I really have to talk to you.”

“Hey Joon hyung,” Taehyung interrupted. Hyung? Were they that close?

“Aren’t you supposed to not interrupt us?”

PD Namjoon rolled his eyes at the younger man, “Yes I know. I just need to talk to Y/N for a second-”

“Is it really that important, hyung? We really were kind of in the middle of something.”

“Taehyung. I need to speak with her. You guys can make out later.”

“We were not making out,” You interjected, flustered that Namjoon had kind of walked in on you.

“Whatever. I don’t care what you do with yourself. I just have to speak to you in private.”

PD Namjoon gave you a withering look. You looked at Taehyung who sighed and stood up. The shirt was stuck to his abs and the water glistened in the sunlight. He had some really pronounced arm muscles that you hadn’t noticed. He ran a hand through his hair. Drops of water ran through the strands. He looked like he was straight out of a commercial.

“I’ll talk to you later Y/N,” Taehyung said before stepping out of the hot tub. He trailed water as he walked back to the Cabana. From the distance, you could see that a couple more people had arrived. There were more men than women now. Julie was sitting at the bar with a couple of them. Alex seemed to have migrated a little closer and was talking to a man with what seemed to be blue hair and the two girls you had met earlier were speaking to one of the new guys and Soobin. There were three new girls that you hadn’t spoken to as well. It hadn’t felt like you had been gone for a long time but from the looks of it, your absence had been longer than imagined.

“Okay first thing’s first,” PD Namjoon said holding out a tube of 100 spf sunscreen. You were shocked. How had he known that you needed some?

“You’re mic,” he explained as you took the sunscreen and clicked it open, “I’m supposed to be listening in case you need anything.”

“Oh,” you said, “that’s...creepy.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, “Yeah well, you’ll be really grateful if something really serious happens. Think of me as like an older brother or something like that. It’s my job to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay,” you conceded, slightly disappointed that he seemed to have closed a door with that analogy, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks. Is that all?”

You squeezed a good amount of sunscreen onto the palm of your hand and rubbed it tenderly on your shoulders and around your chest. You pulled it up to your neck. You tried to reach on your back. With the tips of your fingers you barely reached. You scrunched up your nose. If you had just worn something with more cover, everything would have been fine.

“Come here,” Namjoon said. You raised your eyebrows at his tone.

“Please? I’m going to help you put it on your back.”

You waddled closer to the edge then handed him the tube, a bit suspicious. He was a stranger after all. You reminded yourself that he wasn’t on the show to try and seduce you. He was genuinely just being nice.

You felt his warm hands on you slightly sunburned back and you winced. Namjoon chuckled. This wasn’t like Taehyung. Instead, you felt like he really was making fun of you. You crossed your arms but let him massage the sunscreen onto your skin before he spoke again.

“Okay so secondly, I really thought I should warn you, especially after what you said in the car on the way here.”

“Warn me about what?” You turned back to look at him. His expression was uncomfortable and it reminded you of how he had looked when PD Sejin had told him to speak to you out loud instead of through a message.

“What is it?” A spike of fear shot through you.

“I’m not supposed to tell you and I need you to act like you don’t know but one of the people who is coming is-”

“Hey Y/N,” another voice cut across Namjoon. You turned towards it to see that most of the people who had been hanging out by the Cabana were now making their way towards you. Amongst them, was none other than Jeon Jungkook.

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kpoptrashmx · 5 years ago

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A Misunderstanding: Lee Minho Soulmate Au Pt.3

Hey guys, I know it’s been a while since I posted for this series and I would like to apologize for that. In the past couple of years, I have had things happening in my life for the good and the worse which has affected my overall health. Because of that, I was never in the right headspace to continue this series. But every now and then, I’ll get notification that people have read my series which makes me happy. Now, that everything is okay with me, I have decided to continue writing and finishing up this series. There will be another part to this with an epilogue in the end so do look out for that! But for now, do enjoy the continuation of this series, part 3 of A Misunderstanding!

PS: It’s been a while since I’ve written so that quality might be bad...

PSS: If you have any questions or requests do leave them in my box, I’ll be sure to read and write them because I have nothing else to do during quarantine now

But anyways, do enjoy reading!

- Iman

_______________________________________________

Genre: Romance, Soulmate Au, Themes of Hanahaki Disease, Slight Angst

Pairing: Lee Minho (Stray Kids) x Reader

Word Count: 3195 words

Description: Y/N and Minho have been best friends for their entire life and have bonded as soulmates but there is one problem within this fantasy. Minho has been blinded and tricked by a fellow classmate by making him believe that he is her soulmate. A replica of Y/N and Minho’s soulmate bond has been tattooed on her body in spite of stealing him away from his original lover to fulfill her needs and crush on him. Now, if Y/N doesn’t find a way to bring Minho back to reality and become an official couple before the end of their high school careers, she will have to suffer from internal and external pain for the rest of her life because of the separation from her one and only. Will Y/N be able to make her best friend and her soulmate realize that she’s the one for him before it’s all too late? Or will she have to suffer the life-long consequences?

Prologue / Part 1 / Part 2

_______________________________________________

Minho’s POV

“Minho have you heard of soulmates? My grandma told me that two people who have the same mark on their body and fall in love with each other when they get older!” “That’s cool! I wonder if we have a mark or the same mark!” I remember hearing Y/N talk about the concept of soulmates when we were younger and it always intrigued me. After my mark was visible on the side of my torso, I always walked around town pulling up people’s sleeves and taking a quick glance at their arms to find a mark that was somewhat similar or identical to my own, however I couldn’t find anyone with any marks with birds flying and a bouquet of flowers so I started to lose faith and hope in the whole idea of soulmates. When senior year came along, I found Seoyun, my soulmate. I was ecstatic to finally find my soulmate after 17 years of finding them, but it affected my friendship with Y/N so badly I have caused her so much damage and pain. All this time, I was blinded by a girl who wanted me for my popularity and skills rather than falling in love with a gain who knew me inside and out and was always there for me no matter the time of day or the place I was at. However, I only realised my mistakes after seeing my best friend suffering alone at the hospital with a chance of either dying or losing all emotions due to her diagnosis of Hanahaki Disease. In order to find out more about my mistake and to learn in-depth, I decided to go back to the countryside quickly to visit my grandparents and the local shaman to talk about this issue.

An hour bus ride back to Gimpo from Seoul is enough time for me to read the book Jennie gave me when we saw each other in the hospital. She told me to read it in order to understand what soulmates are and the consequences of soulmate rejections. I remember seeing this book in my parents’ house because of their special bond. My mother and father consequently are soulmates and they found out about their faith in college and got married a few years after the whole incident. When I get back, I want to talk to both of them about their experiences with the whole concept of soulmates. Anyways here we go, hopefully by the end of this, I can understand fully about this concept Y/N dearly loved ever since she was a child, fix my mistakes and make it up to her no matter what it takes.

Gimpo Station, Gimpo Station. We will be arriving at Gimpo Station shortly.

Well, that’s my station, hopefully both my grandparents and parents are home so that I can talk to all of them. I need to do this quickly before something bad happens to Y/N while I’m out. I make my way to my small house where I used to grow up in in the countryside, a lot of memories flash through my mind especially my memories with Y/N. The playground reminded me of the times where I would play at the swings with Y/N and push her from behind, I still here her scream “Push me higher! I want to touch the skies'' in my head. Makes me chuckle knowing that sometimes she’d lose her grip and fall on her face. Damn… she means a lot to me but I’m so lost, confused and blinded. I walk through the gates of my house and open the doors, a familiar smell of the house hits my nostril and brings me back to my childhood days, “Eomma, I’m home!” I reunited with my parents after 3 years of not seeing them because of my studies in Seoul and my dancing career under JYP Entertainment. Brief hugs and kisses are given but after all of that commotion, I pull both my grandparents and parents into the living so that we could talk about my problems and issues back in Seoul. “Eomma, Appa, I wanted to ask you about relationships and soulmate bonds in specific... Can you tell me about your story about how you met, how you got together. Also can you explain why this whole soulmate thing is really important and why people who are bonded should be other and not with other people?”

“I see that you're having problems with Y/N and Seoyun, and you’re unsure who your real soulmate is. Don’t worry my child, we’ll help you find your true identity and loved one. I hope you have time on your hands because there’s a lot to talk about. So, sit down and pay attention to what we have to say.”

After hours sitting down with my parents and finally understanding the concept of soulmates with their expertise, I have come to a conclusion that I have in fact messed up and caused great pain to the person that has been by my side since we were young and always supported my dreams. I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me for the pain and agony I have caused her but, I’ll do anything to make sure things are cleared between the both of us. I need to fix what I have caused and end things with Seoyun even if it means certain consequences. Before I take my leave back to Seoul, my parents give me their last advice and hand me a good luck charm hoping that I can mend things before things are too late.

“Minho, my baby, you need to know that the hanahaki disease may or may not take Y/N’s life after this considering the stage she’s currently in right now. It may hurt you and cause you pain after this as there were mishaps along the way that require consequences so do keep that in mind, but remember we’ll always be by your side and will help if you need anything from here onwards, okay?” My parents say while bringing me into a warm hug for support. I thank them and make my way out of the house and back to Seoul where I need to make things right with the girl I love.

Y/N’s POV

Bright lights start coming into view and hushed noises start surrounding me as I wake up.

“Hey babe, you’re finally awake. How are you feeling right now? Feeling better?” Jennie comes up to me from the chair across the room with a bottle of water in hand. I nod my head to her last question as my throat feels too dry to give a reply. “Here take this and drink up”

As I drink up the water she offers me, so many things start going around in my head. Am I okay? What’s going to happen to me after this? Is everything going to be alright? Am I even breathing properly?

“Where is Minho?” I ask Jennie.

She looked at me unsure of what to say which made me think he’s probably with Seoyun right now doing whatever. The thought of them together makes me so agitated that I started to cough out more flower petals in the process. Jennie looks at me frightened and runs out of the room in search of a nurse. As she leaves, I come to a decision that I can’t live like this anymore and decide to go through with the removal surgery regardless of the consequences that come with it. I look at the clock beside me and hope for whatever faith has in mind for my future.

Minho’s POV

After arriving in Seoul after a long bus ride, I start making my way to Seoyun’s house to break things off with her and start fixing things with the girl I was supposed to be with a long time ago. Along the way, I start to think of ways to make it up to Y/N and how to apologize to her for all of the troubles and pain I have caused her. Seeing Seoyun’s house in the distance, I dash up to her front step hoping to end things quickly and make my way to the hospital. I knock on the door and wait a bit for her to come down. While standing outside, I hear her come down quickly and hear a slight tud.

“Jagi what are you doing here? It’s late” Seoyun opens the door abruptly while looking slightly disheveled. I look at her up and down in confusion. While I am suspicious of her previous activities, I make my way into her home and sit on the couch telling her that we have to talk which makes her a bit uneasy.

“Seoyun, just tell me the truth, are you really my soulmate?” I ask while I look up at her while she’s fixing her hair and shirt. “Of course, I am. Why are you asking that so suddenly? Why are we even talking about this right now? Can we talk about this tomorrow morning, I need to sleep babe” She answers back. While I look at her I can tell she doesn’t feel comfortable and looks as if she wants me out of the house. Her uneasiness raises some suspicion in me and makes me think she’s hiding something from me.

“Why do you seem so uneasy and why do you want to talk about this tomorrow morning and not right now?” I ask her while taking some steps towards her. As she’s about to answer me, I hear a low voice talking in the background, “Babe, are you still talking to him? Are you not coming back upstairs?” I look around to see a head pop up at the staircase. Tensions start rising between the three of us and the puzzle pieces start coming together.

Seoyun looks back at me and the figure at the staircase and seems to come to a realization that things have gone wrong. I look back at Seoyun in anger and start asking her who that man was and what was going on right now. She looks back at me in fear and has nothing to say to the situation that unfolded. While she’s flabbergasted at the situation, I look back at the man and start approaching him to find out what was going on. “Who are you and what are you doing in my girlfriend’s house?” I ask him. He looks back at me, “I was going to ask the same thing”. We both look back at Seoyun hoping to get an answer to our questions and that’s when the truth starts coming out for the first time from her.

“Okay stop, Minho, you’re not my soulmate. I was just using you because I wanted the fame and wanted to have more status at school. Also, I was jealous of the bond you had with Y/N so I wanted to take that away from you and have it all to myself. I didn’t know how to do it but I found that pretending to be your soulmate was the way to have my plans to go the way I wanted them too.” Seoyun confesses with no remorse on her face. She looks at the man beside me with love in her eyes and quickly glances back at me “But now, since I found my true soulmate, I don’t need you anymore”. Her final sentences create so much emotion in my body that I didn’t know how to react. The man beside me could tell that things were settling in my mind and I was going to take action for her faults, so he reacted by holding me back before things went down.

“I can’t believe you did this to me and Y/N! Because of your selfiness, she’s in the hospital hurt and suffering because of you and your selfish gain. You have a soulmate now and you know the consequences that come with it if you reject him. If you rejected him, he would be in the hospital right now contemplating whether he wanted his emotions removed, but no, you found a way to use me and find your true soulmate. But guess what? That’s what Y/N is going through right now because of your bullshit! You hurt me and Y/N, I hope you understand the problems you’ve caused!” I start screaming at her while thrashing around in the man’s grip. I look back at the man holding me to see some pain and regret in his eyes for the things his soulmate has done to two innocent people who were minding their own businesses.

I jump out of the man’s hold and start making my way out of the house. Before I leave, I look back and say, “Seoyun, I hope you understand what you’ve done and let’s say things that you had in your plan will be crumbling down when I see you in school again.” With that, I walk out of the house and start making my way to the hospital to start fixing things with Y/N. I take out my phone and start looking through my contact list. “Chan, I’m on the way to the hospital. I broke up with Seoyun and found out the truth behind my relationship with her. Now, I need to fix my friendship with Y/N before it’s all too late.”

Y/N’s POV

Jennie manages to find a nurse who comes to help calm down my coughing fit and keep things in place for the time being. After she helps with my coughing fit, she starts to check my vitals to make sure everything is okay and to see if my condition is stable after what has happened. I looked at the nurse and asked her to bring my doctor in as I needed to talk to him about my decision. The nurse nods at my request and makes her way out of the room to find my doctor. After a while, the doctor makes their way into the room and takes a seat at the edge of my bed.

“You called me in Y/N to discuss something?” The doctor asks. I look back up at him and say that I wanted to go through with the removal surgery. “Alright then, I’ll get the documents ready and we will go through with the surgery.” He touched my lower leg as a way of an understanding and support and made his way out of the room. I lay back on my bed and contemplate whether I have made the right choice.

I heard a door swing open. I look up to see Chan and Jennie standing at the door catching their breaths.

“Y/N please don't go through with the surgery please. It’s not worth it”. Chan and Jennie saying hoping to persuade me out of the decision I just made. “I can’t guys. I just told the doctors I wanted to go through with it. Plus, Minho is with Seoyun, I don’t have the power and strength to keep this up anymore. I need to get rid of the flowers in my chest even if it means no more romantic feelings.” I say as I look at the room around me too scared to look at them in the eyes. “Y/N, Minho’s on the way to the hospital. You don’t have to do this. He said that he called it quits with Seoyun and wants to fix his friendship and build a relationship with you. He knows how much he fucked up and how blinded he was to not see that the love of his life was helping and aiding him the whole time and was right in front of him. He knows the whole soulmate thing by heart now and wants to make things right for you and him.” Chan says to me while making his way towards the bed. He takes my hand in his and looks me in the eyes and says, “Don’t go through with this surgery Y/N because now it will hurt the both of you.”

I take my hand away from his grip and look at the both of them.

“Sorry guys what’s done is done. I am going through this no matter what.”

Minho’s POV

After making it to the hospital, I get on the lift and make my way to Y/N floor. As the elevator doors open, I see a stretcher being taken away from a familiar room, and realize who was on that stretcher. “Y/N don’t please! I’ve come to make amends” I shout from the lift. As I shout, I see the doctors and nurse look back from the stretcher and point in my direction to show Y/N that someone was here for them. I see her head pop out from the strecther and lay right back down on it. I start running towards them and ask the doctors to give us a moment. The doctors agreed and walked away to allow us to settle some things.

“Y/N I know I fucked up and I know I caused you so much pain without even realizing it, but I want things to work between us and restore the things we were supposed to do together as soulmates. I just broke up with Seoyun and found out the truth from her. I know you might not forgive but please give me another chance so I can make it up to you. Please call off the surgery and let’s fix things together.” I begged while holding onto the handles of the stretcher. I feel a few tears running down my face as I try to hold in my sobs. I could help but feel like an asshole as I hurt the person that loved me more than anyone, and to see her goes through this surgery pains me even more. While sch thoughts are going through my mind, I feel a hand on my face wiping my tears away. I open my eyes to see Y/N with her arm out with a slight smile on her face.

Before I could say anything to her, she spoke up. “Even after all the times we’ve been through together and even having those connecting thoughts or even finishing each other sentences, this took you a while to understand which makes me question if you’re really my soulmates.” She says while touching my face. She lets out a small giggle which warms my heart.

I take her hand in mind and I look straight into her eyes, “Y/N I know I’m in the wrong but I want to make things work between us even if it means damaging my health for you. We can make things work out and I finally understand that you’re the one for me. I’m sorry for what I’ve done. Please forgive me and call this surgery off. I’ll nurse and help you back into good health and fix things between us first, and you can decide our future together after that.”

#stray kids #lee minho #lee know x reader #a misunderstanding ff #lee minho x reader #bang chan #pt3 #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #blackpink jennie #soulmate a #hanahaki disease

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years ago

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❉ 139 Dreams (Jake Webber) Reckless

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Supernatural, AU, Fluff, Romance ☁

Word Count: 2,564 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Jake ☁

World: YouTube ☁

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

Dating a YouTuber came with its own set of hardships, but that list was nearly tripped when you dated a reckless one. Jake Webber was the embodiment of reckless – he never considered consequences, he just wanted to live for the moment and make videos. The site itself was partially to blame. So many were losing ad revenue and getting demonetized, making it nearly impossible to survive doing what they loved. With this, people had to find more creative and insane ways to ramp up their view and sub counts. Jake was no exception.

“Hey, babe. Do you work tomorrow?”

You glanced down at your boyfriend who was using your legs as a pillow and scrolling through his YouTube comments. “No, why?”

He leaned his head back to look up at you. “There’s someone a few hours from here that claims their house is haunted. They invited us to stay the night.”

“Is staying at a stranger’s house overnight really the smartest thing?”

“No,” he paused, grinning. “But it’s not the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Come on, it’ll be fun!” He sat up, pulling you into a messy kiss. “He says that there’s some poltergeist activity. Think of the views!”

“Jake…”

“I’ll protect you~” He pouted, playing with the pendant around your neck. It had been a gift from him when you first started dating. “I know you love haunted locations.”

That’s what he thought because you always insisted on joining him on his haunted trips, but you didn’t enjoy it at all. If you were to be honest, you hated it. You grew up in a family of people who hunted and killed things that go bump in the night, and you know how dangerous spirits can be. Not just spirits, but his group sometimes comes across demons, as well. Jake is a skeptic and doesn’t take the paranormal seriously. Of course, you have to tag along – that idiot would get himself killed without you. He doesn’t know about your past, however, or your current job of taking care of supernatural creatures. Colby is the only one in the house that knows.

“Please?” He snuggled into your neck, pressing his lips against your skin. He smiled when you sighed in defeat, knowing he had won.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Jake Webber.”

He chuckled. “We’ll go together, babe.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

The house was tucked back in a wooded area of the mountains, surrounded by thick trees that towered over the Earth. It was a mixture of old Victorian and wooden cabin and it sent chills down your spine. The grass was overgrown and the house was in bad shape. It wasn’t the least bit welcoming and looked like the kind of place a serial killer would stay.

Demons and ghosts, you could handle. They were predictable and straightforward with what they want and how they act. But humans? They scare the shit out of you. They’re unpredictable and you never know what someone can and will do. You’d take the supernatural over humans any day.

Jake’s hand slipped into your own. “Are you scared~?”

“This is a bad idea, Jake.” You stated firmly, despite knowing that he wouldn’t change his mind.

“Thank you!” Corey cried from behind you. “At least I’m not the only sane one in this group.”

“It’ll be fine.” Jake waved us off as he approached the house. “This guy’s a fan!”

“So he says,” you muttered under your breath. Did he forget that human beings lie all the time?

Colby came up behind you, leaning close so the others wouldn’t hear him. “Do you sense anything?”

“No, nothing paranormal, but…”

“But?” He prompted.

“Something doesn’t feel right.” Was all you said as you headed toward the house. Jake had already knocked and was talking to the homeowner – a balding man with a beer belly and beady eyes. He looked at you when you approached and you felt a sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. All you wanted to do was turn tail and run, but you couldn’t leave your idiot boyfriend behind. He was as stubborn as he was reckless, and would refuse to leave. Knocking him out was always an option, but you had the rest of the roommates to worry about too.

Jake threw his arm around your waist when you settled by his side. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. That’s Colby, Sam, and Corey.”

“Nice to meet y’all.” The man smiled, but it didn’t reach his dark eyes. “Name’s George. Come on in, I’ll show you around.”

The inside of the house was even worse than the outside. The floor creaked under your weight, feeling like it could give at any moment. The smell of ammonia and mothballs invaded your nose, stinging at your eyes. You didn’t even want to think about the various cobwebs that covered the walls. The furniture was old and worn, and the couch looked as if it had been taken from a dumpster after twenty years of being chewed on by rats.

You refused to sit on the couch, so you decided to inspect the rest of the room. The wallpaper was faded and peeling, stained a pale yellow. There was only one single painting in the living room, of an older woman sitting on the very couch in which Jake now sat. Her gray hair was pulled back into a tight bun, her thin lips pursed and beady eyes narrowed.

“That’s my ma,” George had come up behind you, far too close for your comfort as he breathed into your ear.

You quickly stepped away, nearly stepping on Sam’s foot, since he was beside you.

“Where is she now?” Sam inquired.

“Dead,” The way he said it with no emotion or attachment unnerved you.

“Did she die in this house?” Jake asked, not stopping to think that it may be insensitive. You shot him a look and he just shrugged, making you want to facepalm.

“Yeah. She was attacked in the kitchen and dragged to the basement where she bled out.”

“Attacked?” Corey was looking between all of you with wide eyes. His own unease was growing and he was regretting letting Jake talk him into this.

“It was a break-in. They never caught the guy.”

Something told you that there was more to the story, but you didn’t ask.

He took the group on a tour of the house, pointing out areas that he deemed ‘hot spots of paranormal activity’. Jake asked to see the basement, but the man refused, saying that it brought back too many bad memories and he didn’t want the door opened. After finishing the tour, he said that he was going to run into town to get some beer and would be back soon.

Jake waited until the old pickup truck was out of view before he turned to the group with a grin. “Let’s find out what’s in that basement.”

“What?” Corey looked between him and the other boys. “He specifically said he didn’t want us in the basement.”

“Think about it, bro. There’s got to be something down there! If she died in the basement, it’s gotta be the most haunted area.”

“I checked the door earlier, it’s locked,” Colby added, his hand resting on the side of his neck.

Jake approached the door, which was off to the side of the living room, and wrapped his hand around the doorknob. It turned with ease, clicking as it released.

“I swear it was locked.” He looked at me with confusion in his eyes.

“Well, it’s not now.” Jake shrugged, pulling it open. “Let’s go, boys. And babe,” he added as an afterthought.

“I am not going down there.” Corey folded his arms over his hoodie.

“Fine, you can be the lookout. Yell if you see him coming.” Jake rolled his eyes and started to descend the stairs, followed by Sam. You and Colby brought up the rear.

“Y/N,” Colby followed close behind you, his voice a whisper. “Do you think he unlocked it before leaving?”

“I don’t know…” You sighed, feeling a headache beginning. “I thought it was strange that he left right after giving us a tour. This could be a trap.”

“God, it reeks down here.” Jake scrunched up his nose, using his phone flashlight to look around.

“It smells like death,” Sam commented, bringing his shirt up to cover his nose.

It was a smell you had become familiar with after years of working as a hunter – the smell of a rotting corpse. Your body became tense as you realized what was happening, but Sam yelled before you could say anything.

“What the fuck is that?!” Sam pointed his phone towards the corner of the basement, but the light wasn’t bright enough to fully cut through the darkness.

“We need to leave.” You stated, your voice full of authority as you locked eyes with Jake. “Now, Jake.”

He hesitated, but seeing how serious you had become, he reluctantly stepped back, glancing back in the direction of the corner. Sam took a step forward but Colby grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the stairs.

Corey appeared at the top of the stairs, looking panicked. “He’s back!”

You all picked up your step, rushing up the stairs and slamming the door moments before he entered. He wasn’t carrying any beer, and his face was blank as he stared at the group. You caught sight of a knife concealed under his shirt and tucked into his faded jeans.

You stepped forward, standing in front of Jake. His hands went to your waist, fingers digging into the fabric of your pants.

“We’re going to leave,” you announced, doing your very best to make your voice loud and confident. “You’re not going to stop us, and we’re going to forget about all of this. Right?”

His lifeless eyes met yours – he seemed to be contemplating your words. “I can’t let you do that.” He reached for the knife, slowly pulling it from his pants. It glinted in the low lighting. Like everything else, it was ragged and rust-covered the blade in several areas. It would do some serious damage.

“Woah, calm down.” Corey took a step back as the group tensed. Jake tried to tug you back, but you didn’t budge, nor did you let him place himself in front of you.

“Babe – ”

“Trust me.” You whispered, eyes not leaving the man’s. He didn’t step away, but he didn’t try to move you.

The man tilted his head.

“It was you, wasn’t it.” You stated, eyes narrowing at him. “It wasn’t a break-in. You murdered her and staged it to look like one.”

Sam took in a shaky breath. “That means…”

You nodded – the thing Sam had seen in the basement was the rotting corpse of George’s mother.

‘Jeez, why couldn’t it have been a demon? I can’t read this guy!’, your lips tugged down, hand inching towards the pocket on your thigh.

Jake frowned, looking at Sam in confusion. He hadn’t seen the body. Corey looked just as confused but more terrified than anything.

“Why did you do it?” You asked.

“Why?” He echoed. “She was a bitch.”

You scoffed. “If people murdered everyone that was a bitch, more than half the population would be wiped out.”

“That would be beautiful.”

“Is this guy Thanos?” Corey whispered, harshly.

The man stepped forward and Jake pushed you back. Using his body as a distraction, your hand quickly reached into the pocket on your pants, fingers wrapping around the handle of the blade. Placing your free hand on Jake’s back, you pushed him aside and threw the blade. It flew through the air, slicing the man’s wrist before embedding into the wood behind him. The sudden wound made him drop the knife and you rushed forward, using the momentum to slam your fist into his face. He grunted in pain, stumbling back.

“Go!” You ordered, tugging the knife free from the wood before rushing after the boys. They didn’t hesitate, aside from Jake, rushing towards the back door. Colby unlocked the car and the group scrambled to get inside. Corey was screaming for him to hurry as the man rushed out of the house, clutching the knife again. Colby threw the car into reverse and peeled out of the driveway.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

The drive home was completely silent, no one knowing what to say. No one said a word even after returning home. Aaron asked how it went, not expecting you to return so quickly, but Colby just shook his head. Everyone went to their rooms.

You watched as Jake pulled his shirt off, throwing it onto the hamper. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

You remained silent, eyes watching him as he left the room. The headache was worse now, your temple throbbing. The events of the past few hours were swirling in your brain. Should you call the police? You doubted that he or the evidence would still be there, but… if you didn’t, it would haunt you. You pulled out your phone and called up an old acquaintance of your family. He worked as a detective for the L.A.P.D and he thanked you for reporting it, promising to reach out if anything came from it.

After the call, you grabbed the bottle of meds from the dresser, hoping to relieve the pressure against your skull.

Jake re-entered the room, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. His lips tugged into a smirk when he caught you staring. “Like what you see?”

“That’s a stupid question.” You ran your hand through his damp purple hair. “If I could get away with it, I’d spend my life just staring at you.”

He chuckled, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, forehead resting against yours. “Do you realize your sexiness went up like crazy tonight?”

You raised a brow, running your thumb under his bottom lip as you hummed. “Do tell,”

His lips found yours, body pushing you until you fell onto the bed. He hovered over you, his lips moving slow and sensual. Your hand gently traced patterns in his stomach, making him groan in approval. The need for air won and he pulled away, both of you breathing heavy.

“I love you, babe.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“I love you, too, even if you are a reckless idiot.”

He pouted, “That’s not called for.”

You laughed and he dropped his weight on you, cutting off your laughter. You didn’t complain, allowing him to snuggle into you as you ran your hand through his hair. It wasn’t long before you both fell asleep.

That night, you dreamed of the woman from the painting. She didn’t look nearly as angry as it had depicted her. She thanked you for solving her murder and allowing her to move on.

The next morning, George’s face was all over the news. The police had arrived just as he was fleeing the house. He tried to cover up his crime by setting fire to the home, but the police arrived in time to stop the fire and preserve the evidence. He was locked away for life, and the roommates soon forgot about the events that took place thanks to an old friend who knew how to manipulate memories.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

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manggojooz · 5 years ago

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Pick A Side (Part 13)

pairing: Taehyung x reader

word count: 2,244

genre: university!au; angst; romance; thriller; a lil bit of fluff

warnings: slight references to voyeuristic behaviour

taglist: @destiel1597 @mila271 @hopetookmysoul @ximaginx@honeyursosweet @coffeecupyoongs@bangtanbaesstuff@annoyingpessimist @betysotelo18 @okaysoplshelpme@igot7bangs @tahaing @mochi-and-co @somewhereinthestarss

“I don’t want this thing to get any bigger than it already is... I just hope it dies down quickly and quietly. That is all I want now. I have no answer either. But somehow the world makes me feel that as the victim, finding the culprit, seeking justice, is not my priority”, Jihyun explained and stood up to leave.

“Jihyun...”, you called out to her.

She didn’t turn around but she did stop moving towards the café’s door.

“Don’t be fooled into thinking that he’s on your side...”, you preached.

She suddenly felt a surge of irritation, she spun around and stalked back towards Taehyung and you.

“My side? Then are you on my side? Is he on my side?”, she raged as she pointed at Taehyung. “Just because he’s here with you, you think he’s on your side now? You should be the one being worried about getting fooled, Y/N. Don’t be too happy now... we may all be in the same boat in the end.”

You suddenly felt a sense of embarrassment and a tinge of guilt. Who were you to be preaching a lesson to her? Everyone faces life with a different set of lenses. We have experienced different things, we have met different people, we have walked different paths. Thus, the specifications of our lenses cannot be the same. Even when we face that same landscape, that same frame, how we capture it and how the final picture develops, will ultimately be dependent on those lenses.

You watched Jihyun walk out of the café and you thought to yourself, we always assume people share the same values and the same world view as us. That’s why it is difficult to understand when they see things differently from us. And when we don’t understand why they don’t think like us, we conclude that they stand against us, that they are on the other side.

Jihyun stalks on, her winter boots clicking against the dull pavement. She kept her eyes on the ground as she walked along. She never used to be this way. She used to enjoy seeing the view on her way, but now she just doesn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes. The moment she does, she wonders whether they know about her, whether they are judging her.

Out of nowhere, you rushed out in front of her, cutting her path. She was befuddled at your persistence. But then again, maybe you are just desperate to save Taehyung from this situation. You will probably never see it from her view – that what you are asking her to do, is to believe a guy who has hurt and abandoned her, and to give up on one who had supported her through the most difficult times.

“Jihyun, I’m trying to-”, you started

“Y/N,”, Jihyun sighed and you immediately stopped talking, because you know you needed to hear her out, you needed to figure out what kind of lenses she has now. “Is it weird if I think that you must be happy this happened to me? Is it weird that I think you must also be happy to know that Taehyung never truly loved me? Even if it’s weird, that is what I think. And I have been suppressing and suppressing it, telling myself to not see you as the same petty person that I am. But here you are, making me doubt the only person that is keeping me stable now. Don’t... push me further please, I think I might really go crazy...”, Jihyun’s words were just pouring out.

“You are petty...”, her face said it all, she was shocked that you would say it so abruptly and directly, “... but so am I. All the times Taehyung took your side. Every time I saw your triumphant smile, it’s as if I was the pettiest girlfriend who ever existed. I always thought to myself, I hope one day you will be in my shoes and will realise how it felt. But I’m not happy now either, Jihyun...”, you said.

She was skeptical, she even scoffed lightly but that did not deter you from explaining, “... because I was the one who went around drawing those lines, separating myself from this person, from that person. If you are not standing on my side of the line, I get hurt. With these rules I made for myself, how can I ever expect to be happy?”

You cannot deny that it is human nature to want to be sided with, but when you start obsessing over it, when everything is either your side or not your side, that becomes counter-productive, or in some ways, it can manifest into ‘jealousy’.

“If I'm not making sense to you... what I'm really trying to say is that I was wrong to think that everything is black and white, my side or your side or whatever... what I'm getting at is that not everything is about picking a side, Jihyun. You are still my friend... I just want to help you, just like I want to help Taehyung too. There can be no other reason why I am doing this...”, you pleaded with her.

“After all that has happened, you think we are still friends?”, she asked, very incredulously.

“Why not? Even after all that has happened, you believed that I wasn’t the one who took those photos of you, right?”, you questioned.

She kept quiet and still, silently acknowledging it.

“And despite your getting together with Taehyung not long after our break up, I believe you were just friends with him while I was dating him. I just wanted to tell you that”, you said.

“I liked him”, Jihyun suddenly said. “I liked Taehyung before you guys got together. But when he was with you, I never intended to snatch him away. I was just not used to him prioritising another girl, we were best friends for a really long time you know...”, she said softly.

“I know...”, you replied.

There was a long silence, both of you not really looking at each other but still stealing glances from time to time until Jihyun broke the silence, “He really locked up you up on the rooftop? Haejoong?”

You nodded, showing her a frost bite you had gotten on the sides of your palm. “It’s not about whether you believe me, it’s about what is the truth, we need to find out...”

---

As Jihyun walks into the police station, Haejoong was sucked into his own vacuum amidst the bustling scene.

A lot ran through his mind in a matter of seconds, and he stood up from his seat, his hands still cuffed in front of him as he approaches Jihyun. You wanted to jump at him a second time, but Taehyung held onto your wrist and shook his head at you.

“Jihyun...”, she winces as he calls her name. Just as he inhaled to say something again, one police officer shouted from across the room.

“Hyung, the room’s cleared!”, he pointed towards a corridor at the same time.

Haejoong was moved into an interrogation room. Unlike the dramas it wasn’t dimly-lit, but it was shabby-looking. The police quickly got down to taking all of your statements before they will proceed to question Haejoong. Once your statements were given, Helen, Taehyung, Jihyun and you, were all told to leave. You were not allowed to watch the interrogation anyway.

Jihyun requested to speak to Haejoong for just five minutes but was rejected by the policemen. “Come back after we are done questioning him, Ms Kim”, was all they instructed her.

---

The next day you walked into class, that same one that you used to hate because of Jihyun and Taehyung, and used to find refuge in sharing the class with Haejoong.

Some of your classmates were looking at you fleetingly, curious but not wanting to make actual eye contact. You took a deep breath and intended to bulldoze through the stairs to your usual seat at the back of the room, but a voice caught you by surprise.

“Y/N”, you turned to see that it was Hyesoo, the teaching assistant who had called you. “These are mine, it’s only for your reference, don’t write on them, don’t crumple them and make sure you return it to me once the project is done”, she nagged and shoves a notebook into your face.

You looked at the book with utter confusion and then back at her.

“What? All four of you have been so caught up in producing your own little school drama that you forgot the project is due next Monday? With the number of classes you guys missed, and having one groupmate held in a police station... why do you keep looking at me like that, you don’t want my notes? Fine... give it back”, she sneered.

She almost snatches the notebook from your grasp but at the last moment your fingertips stuck onto them and tore it back from her.

“No no I just totally forgot about the deadline... thanks sunbaenim...”, you stammered.

Her haughty air doesn’t let down, and her hair flips as she turns to walk away to her seat again.

---

Taehyung and Jihyun were nowhere in sight during the class, so you messaged him asking where he was but there was no reply. You walked listlessly out of the building after the class ended, thinking whether to give Taehyung a call or to drop by the student office first.

“Y/N”, it was Taehyung’s voice and you scanned around in the crowd of students, finally spotting him standing not far from the landing of the stairs that led out from the school building. Jihyun was next to him and as you approached them you noticed how her eyes were all red and swollen.

“I called Jihyun this morning to make sure she would go for class, but she didn’t pick up and when I went to her room... she stayed up the whole night, I just couldn’t leave her there alone”, Taehyung explained.

You nodded.

“Are you feeling okay?”, you asked her.

“I want to go meet him”, Jihyun said.

---

“Why?”, she asked Haejoong who was sitting across the table from Jihyun and you. The police only allowed two people to meet him at one time, so Taehyung volunteered to wait outside, a little too willingly.

“Why?”, he wasn’t mimicking her, he was genuinely bewildered that she didn’t understand him, his choices. He continued to peer at her, his hands hidden below the table.

“I have so many questions, I don’t even know where to start”, she would pause a little between her words but she looked at him with a coldness resembling the season.

“Because I like you... I would think you would know that by now-”, Haejoong answered but a scoff from you cuts him off.

“Funny... that’s what you said to me not too long ago too...”, you spat sarcastically.

He doesn’t even so much as glance at you, he was only fixated on Jihyun.

“That was different”, he asserted without missing beat.

You pouted your lower lip and slowly bobbed your head. “It was different... hmm... I thought about it for really long. Why is it that you liked Jihyun but approached me at the start?”

He finally turns to you, his eyes rather unconcerned about your phishing attempt.

“You wanted to see if Taehyung would get jealous? You wanted to make Taehyung leave Jihyun...? You were just using me to achieve that?”, you theorised, you spoke slowly and peeked twice at Jihyun to make sure she was not too affected.

“He doesn’t love her... she deserves to know that...”, Haejoong hisses at you in response.

“Then why?! If you like me, why would you make everyone shun me like that... by taking those photos and videos?”, Jihyun bursts out at him eventually.

“I didn’t make them shun you, Jihyun... don’t you see it? None of those bastards who claim to like you will stay by your side when it really matters. After Taehyung left you, they think they stood a chance”, he mocked and they would circle you like bees circling a flower, but look how they all just fly away when you face the smallest problem”, his answer sounded like he was trying to pacify a child who didn’t know better about the horrible world.

“And you? You created the problem just to save me from it!”, Jihyun’s voice reeked with disbelief.

“No! I didn’t create the problem... I was only showing you the problem. I was showing you the truth, Jihyun-ah!”, Haejoong leaned in as he shouted his reply at Jihyun. He was taken aback; this was the first time he raised his voice at her.

“You are crazy...”, Jihyun whispered as she gripped her thighs to stop her hands from shaking.

You reached out your right hand and gently placed it over her tightening left hand.

“And it still wasn’t enough...”, Haejoong said with a dejected yet chilling expression.

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sirdust · 5 years ago

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local mlm attempts to thoughtfully critique a potential endgame pairing

(a quick analysis of what we’ve seen so far, and what may be to come)

right, so as A Gay(tm) i feel kind of compelled to talk about the most prominent m/m pairing in canon right now, which is angel/husk. i’m mostly indifferent to it, but i feel like with the way it’s been set up, there are some pitfalls to watch out for if the show ends up making that particular pairing official. (ignore my url. these takes are subjective, but i’ve actually had the vast majority of them since last year, before i picked any ship to stick with, so i think/hope they’re relatively unbiased. i mostly only had the means/words to organize my thoughts and feelings on the matter after the pilot released.)

criticism/rambling below the cut.

- alright, so the main hangup i have with this pairing is the age gap. demons really don’t seem to age after death, so a relationship between a man in his 30′s and a man in either his 60′s or 70′s feels a little too large of a difference. lots of same-sex relationships in media are between two people with a significant difference in years between them, and even in real life, age gaps within lgbt+ relationships have become pretty normalized. it’s not as if it can’t work. it just sets a weird standard, and depending on who you are, a potentially uncomfortable one. to be honest, this is probably the one issue i don’t think that the writing team will be able to sidestep in any way if the pairing becomes canon.

- in terms of angel’s feelings, it comes across as a bit “love at first sight”-esque, which is a trope that is not often used well. angel seems like the type of individual to have a lot of flings, which isn’t necessarily bad on its own, but seems to have resulted in some maladjustment on his part. while he may develop deeper, more genuine feelings as time goes on, there’s still the issue of that “i can get any man i want” mentality being validated, if husk ends up reciprocating. one way to avoid this might be to have the characters enter a casual relationship that eventually becomes a more serious one as their feelings mutually grow.

- in terms of husk’s feelings, i’m a little worried that his development in this area could end up feeling predictable, if not downright cliche. fiction is positively SATURATED in romances where one character is completely closed off to the concept of (romantic) love due to past trauma, which is then rectified by a character who breaks down those barriers through sheer persistence, rather than any real chemistry or emotional connection. while i’m certain that care and thought will be put into the relationship between husk and angel, i am concerned that there won’t be any believable transition from friendly feelings to romantic ones, especially considering how negatively husk reacts to angel’s advances. to avoid this problem, husk would need to view angel as a friend before viewing him as a potential romantic partner. angel may also need to readjust how he views husk; as a friend first and foremost, and then, potentially, something else.

- since this dynamic was introduced in the pilot, the relationship could end up feeling a little on the will-they-won’t-they side of things. this could be handled well, but there are also MANY cases where it has been handled VERY poorly. the best way to make sure people don’t get bored, in my opinion, is to stay away from too much teasing, and to slowly solidify which direction the relationship is heading in, even if an element of suspense still feels needed in order to keep things dramatically engaging.

there’s more, of course. i haven’t even gotten into how valentino could factor into things, but then again, i’m talking more about what i think the show should stray away from in order to keep things feeling fun to watch, rather than how i think things should be handled specifically--my suggestions are just suggestions, nothing more, and as a fan, i don’t claim to know the characters as well as the writers. i think that about covers it for now, though.

the biggest reason i wrote this post is because, as a gay animation fan, i’m not really happy with how my group has had our stories told in this medium, and i REALLY hope this show is able to do it right. my opinions aren’t universal, but i do think they count for something, you know?

tl;dr: the age gap is weird, but as long as things don’t get too predictable or follow semi-harmful romantic conventions, it should be okay.

#THIS GOT SO LONG but i have a lot of thoughts about this that have been around for months #hope this isn't a slog to read lol #hazbin hotel #op #criticism tag #< idk i feel like i should have a tag for this sort of thing so that's it i suppose #anyways i may end up making more posts about these sorts of matters in the future if i feel the need (and i probably will)#you don't have to read 'em just be aware!

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tacitwhisky · 5 years ago

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Jon of the Kingsguard: Story Autopsy

While not the first jonsa story I posted, Jon of the Kingsguard is the first I wrote. The initial concept isn’t original to me: I can’t find it now, but an ask reblogged by asoiaf university offhandedly mentioned Jon joining the Kingsguard and how it would complicate Joffrey and Sansa, and that immediately got me thinking. Jon going south is such an interesting context for him, and the way he interacts with being in the capital and the more southern view of knighthood and duty, while still being fundamentally being the same person, was really intriguing to me.

Another driving idea behind the story was the concept that Jon and Sansa both start in this fic and canon not valuing the other: Sansa is status conscious and looks down at Jon because of his birth while Jon is dismissive of her feminine pursuits (there’s a good meta here that talks about how Jon is very supportive of tomboys like Arya or Ygritte, but tends to not like traditionally feminine women because of Catelyn). That duality of the two, their mutual dislike for superficial reasons, was really fascinating to me, and I liked the idea of their arcs mirroring each other as they learn to value the other (I quote the relevant part of a related meta here, if you’re interested).

I also made the decision early on to ignore the parts of asoiaf canon that weren’t conducive to the story: no white walkers, no war of the five kings, no Hound, no Petyr or Renly or Stannis. Partly this was a decision I made just for my own sanity, but mostly because paring down and narrowing the scope of the world was the only way to truly let the premise of Jon joining the Kingsguard breathe and develop fully.

The Original Vision: Or, No Plan Survives First Contact With The Page

My original vision for the story was as one of those lyrical oneshots that gracefully dip in and out of events and time, and that’s how I originally started out writing it. It was one of those stories that just gripped me and wouldn’t let me work on other stuff until I’d gotten it out of my system. I wrote the first third of it in about a week, the words just flowing one after another.

I got as far as the first time Joffrey hits Sansa, but then realized I wasn’t quite happy with how Jon and Sansa’s dynamic had developed so far. Ironically enough for a jonsa fic, I felt like the two hadn’t interacted enough. By that point I’d run out of steam for the story though, and decided to just set it aside with the vague idea of maybe turning it into its own original story at some point.

(Which, for the record, wouldn’t work: there’s simply too many things specific to the asioaf world in the story, and a lot of the background of the plot would have to be expanded for it to make sense on its own. Joffrey, for example, would need actual scenes of him being horrible earlier in the story rather than only showing up onscreen right before the end, Danaerys kind of reads like a deus ex machina, etc.)

I let the draft sit for almost a year, until I’d gotten over my hesitation over spending writing time on fanfic and written and posted Tipsy in a Red Push Up Bra (have I ever mentioned that I dislike that title? Because I do, but could never come up with something better). At that point I decided to take a look at Kingsguard again, and fix the things I didn’t like in what I’d already written before moving forward.

Adding The Jonsa Spice

Most of the process of second drafting was simply adding more interactions between Jon and Sansa. Which again, is odd that I didn’t do in the first place, but whatever. I’ll run through a few here.

“Do you know where Arya is?” Sansa tosses her hair, the red-bronze sheen of it flashing in the light, a quiver wobbling the edge of her voice. “She’s going to ruin everything.”

Jon sighs and whistles Ghost to him. It will be worse for Arya if she’s late. “I’ll help you look.”

Originally Arya popped up before the second paragraph above, and Sansa dragged her off and that was the end of the scene. I’m not really sure what I was thinking, because the story inherently needs a scene at the start to show the status quo of Jon and Sansa’s relationship where they actually interact and talk. It’s just a basic tenet of writing.

They reach the stables, and Nymeria pads out to nose Ghost and Lady. Sansa’s nose wrinkles at the sudden scent of horse and hay, and she lifts the hem of her skirts above the churned earth and mud. And where is your prince now, he thinks darkly, or is trudging through mud a job only for bastards?

I find it endlessly hilarious how extra Jon can be, and the general saltiness between Jon and Sansa in these first few chapters was a huge amount of fun to write. This scene also emphasizes Sansa’s initially chivalric view of the world. I love any fic where Jon and Sansa are cast as knight and lady, and here they go on essentially a quest, even if it’s a mundane one. That’s what this is about:

Once out in the yard again Sansa makes to walk off, but abruptly turns on her heel and gives Jon a swift courtesy. “Thank you for your aid, Jon.”

It’s also just a nice character beat for her: Sansa never forgets her courtesies even if only to Jon.

Chapter two also had a couple scenes added and expanded. The scene with Jon and Sansa in the sparring yard was entirely added in the second draft both to give them more interaction, and to punch up Jon’s sense that something is going on between Sansa and Joffrey that he doesn’t understand. That feeling finally blossoms in the wedding scene, which is also the emotionally largest addition to the second draft: the bedding.

Carefully, Jon lowers her into the bed, and only then does Sansa look at him again, eyes trapped, the line of her jaw clenched and sharp and fragile as a shard of glass. The night’s wine has left Jon’s mind murky and slow. “Your grace,” he mumbles, tongue thick, meaning to step back. Her hand flashes out, fingers clutching his sleeve. “Don’t call me that,” she whispers, eyes pleading, “please don’t call me that. I’m still Sansa.”

In the original draft Jon lays Sansa on the bed and just… leaves. Really odd decision on my part, and even just this short interaction pulls the whole chapter together and solidifies what Sansa’s going through in a tangible way. It’s honestly one of my favorite moments in the story now, and really sets the groundwork for their relationship.

Alayaya

Maybe the biggest addition in terms of word count I made in that second draft oddly enough doesn’t include Sansa. The entire second half of chapter three where Jon visits Chataya’s brothel with Tyrion is a second draft edition. Part of the decision to add the scene was pacing: once I gave up on the idea of this fic as a oneshot, crash cutting from Jon deciding to join the Kingsguard to Joffrey’s coronation felt really jarring.

The other part was to just explore Jon’s headspace: in canon Jon is a tightly wound ball of expectation and duty, and piling knighthood and it’s hangups around sex on top of that would ony make it worse. Which itself ended up being a larger part of the story than I initially planned.

Jon flushes. The girl is beautiful, freckled and lushly curved, with long red hair brushed to a copper sheen that reaches to her hip. As if she can feel his eyes on her the girl glances up at him, a slow, wicked smile turning the corners of her lips. There is nothing of her but for the red of her hair that is like Sansa, yet her smile coils something sick in Jon’s gut, and for a moment he can again feel Sansa’s fingers tangling in his sleeve, the fragile weight of her in his arms, the way her eyes had pled with him

Jon wrenches his gaze away. I am no Joffrey. He downs the goblet in a single swallow, tongue barely recognizing the smooth ripple that marks it as Arbor Gold. “Not her.”

I’ll talk more about this in the next section, but I wanted Jon’s feelings for Sansa to be ambiguous here, especially with how tangled up they are in ideas of chivalry and duty and westerosi patriarchy. You can read this scene as Jon shying away from attraction to his sister, as Dancy being a figure of temptation for his honor, or as Jon simply still being traumatized by the bedding and worrying he’ll be like Joffrey.

“I am bastard too counted your Westorosi way.” Alayaya tilts her head to the side as she returns to where he stands. She hands him his cup. “My father was a summer islander like my mother, a sailor passing through Kingslanding on his way to Braavos. But among my people there is no shame in bastard birth, for the gods made not only us but our desires too, and in that way we bastards are a gift of the gods.”

“I’ve never felt a gift.” Jon laughs, the sound more hollow than he expected.

I hadn’t originally planned for it, but Alayaya’s views on her own bastardry (which aren’t canon, but are a reasonable extrapolation) are a great contrast with Jon. Here she’s offering another way of viewing his bastard identity, a way of freeing himself from its shackles, but Jon just isn’t there. Stories are all about contrasts and foils, and Alayaya is a great one for Jon. Not to mention what surprisingly good chemistry they have.

To Romance Or Not To Romance?

In the notes for the first chapter I wrote:

I went back and forth quite a bit on whether this should be under the Jon/Sansa tag or not. Ultimately I did decide to put it there (for now), because I think if you’re into Jonsa you’ll enjoy it, but do note that the romantic elements of this story are not at all overt, so fair warning.

This pretty accurately reflected my initial mindset on how explicitly romantic the story was going to be. Being the first jonsa story I wrote, I think I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the incest facets of it (to be honest it’s still not an attractive part of the pairing to me), and they think of each other as brother and sister for most of this story. Even without any romance I was still driven to write the story: I generally find intimate platonic relationships as interesting as romantic ones.

As I finished retrofitting old chapters and writing new ones, more and more feelings started to show up between Jon and Sansa, until I realized that there was really no holding it back: this was going to be a fic where they had romantic feelings for each other far before they find out their cousins. Still, vacillating back and forth on how blatant to be about their attraction to each other is something that hounded me as I moved past the material I’d originally written, and kept moving itself earlier and earlier into the story.

Relationship Progression

The story can actually be broken into several distinct periods in the evolution of their relationship. The status quo when the story starts is Jon and Sansa are mostly salty at each other because of how few things they have in common and their general disdain and resentment. Neither of them have anything really like attraction for each other, but the underlying situation is there: they’re simultaneously too distant to really feel like siblings, but also too close to see each other as potential romantic interests.

The saltiness begins to give way as Jon begins to see more than just the image Sansa projects (her crying into his shirt over Lady), comes back a little bit in chapter two, and then gives way even more as he begins to see how not-perfect her life is.

“Joffrey is to break lances with Ser Loras.” There is something queer in Sansa’s voice, an uncertain edge to it that Jon cannot place. “He asked I watch.”

He bites his lip, but does not know what to say. Since she’d been old enough to curl up in old Nan’s lap Sansa had dreamed of marrying a lord like Joffrey, a shining prince with flashing blue eyes and gold hair. This is the song she’s always wanted: and she is not his sister in the way Arya is, in the way where he can ask her what troubles her.

It’s still very opaque to him though until the end of chapter two:

The gale of voices of the ladies holding Joffrey aloft in the corridor is louder now, the sound pulsing in Jon’s blood. He reaches up and wraps his hand around Sansa’s fingers, and it takes all the will he has not to kneel in that moment and swear to her by the old gods and the new that he will protect her from Joffrey and the Lannisters and all the realm. But this is not a song and he is not a knight, not any more than he has ever been a Stark. Carefully, he untangles her fingers from his sleeve and gives them a tight squeeze. “Sansa,” he says meeting her eyes, and later he knows he will tell himself it is the wine that makes him step forward and brush his lips against her forehead. “Sansa Stark.”

This interaction is the start of an underlying, recurring tenderness in their relationship that will only grow over the course of the story. On a side note, this scene is also yet another invocation of the knight and maiden motif, and how Jon’s sense of duty is conflicted by his bastard identity.

Jon and Sansa’s relationship is kind of on hold for chapter three (Jon visits the brothel) and four (Arya leaves), and then picks up again in chapter five (Joffrey first hits Sansa), though they’re still not particularly close in that chapter, still at a sort of wary distance. The attraction element is beginning to strengthen though, like in this moment:

Sansa blinks and looks away, out to the window. For a moment she looks so like a maiden from a song waiting in her tower for some brave knight to come save her that it cuts Jon to the bone.

Which is a bit much for your sister.

Chapters six and seven are the next stage, when Jon and Sansa are drawn closer because of the situation they’re going through together: they’re really the only other person either of them can depend on and trust. But just as much as that kind of situation can forge a bond, I also wanted to show just how ugly abuse can be in tearing people apart.

Not to get pretentious, but one of the inspirations for that and the scene I’ll go into next was a section in Anna Karenina where she and her lover are shunned from society, and she starts to cling and become jealous of him even as he begins to resent her. Desperation and loneliness aren’t always pretty, and often don’t forge a bond.

Trauma and Abuse

Sansa giggles. “What do you think, Jon? Would fucking me keep you true?”

The words catch Jon like a slap. He drops her hands. “That isn’t funny, Sansa.”

This scene is a really pivotal one, bringing to the front a lot of the underlying elements of the story so far: how abuse can tear people apart, the latent attraction in Jon and Sansa’s relationship, and showing the emotional toll Joffrey’s abuse has taken on Sansa.

Ironically for such a pivotal scene though, it isn’t one I originally planned. I don’t remember how the idea first came to me, but I do remember that I initially rejected it for being too shippy and clashing too much with the tone of the story. But the idea stuck with me, and in execution I just tried to make it clear that Sansa isn’t so much jealous as simple insecurity and desperation: as much as Jon has been beside her, he isn’t the one undergoing abuse, and Sansa is very, very aware that he has a choice in whether to stay with her. As she says, he can leave the tower whenever he wants even as she’s trapped there.

She rolls her eyes. “I could make you happier than she makes Jaime, you know. All the court says I’m more beautiful than her. I’d treat you gentler too, let you use me like one of your whores and never once complain. I’m sorry I have all these bruises, but you can give me one of your own if you want. Would doing that make it easier for you? Would it make fucking your sister sweeter? I want it to be sweet for you, Jon, truly I do, so sweet you’ll never leave me, so sweet you’ll strike me at even the thought of another man in me.”

This is Sansa, in a moment of desperation beginning to lose her grasp on what a normal relationship is, conflating abuse with love, and embracing the idea that her only value to men, even Jon, is her appearance. It's a bit of a nod to what Cersei in canon tells Sansa tears aren’t a woman's only weapons, that she also has one between her legs. Just as later Jaime will be a good foil for Jon when it comes to why the knight saves the maiden (which I’ll go into in a bit), Cersei is the other side of the coin from Sansa. Not exploring that dynamic between Sansa and Cersei in actual scenes is actually something I kind of regret not doing, though I didn’t think of it till too late; if I was ever to expand or turn this into an original story it’s something I’d definitely include.

There is a dull roar in Jon’s ears as he reaches up and clasps Sansa’s face between his hands, jerks her eyes back to meet his. “I will never strike you.” The words are sharp, short, harsh, but Jon needs her to understand, needs her to know beyond the flicker of a doubt. “And I will never leave you, Sansa. I swear that, swear it before the sight of gods and men, swear it by the old gods and the new. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever, not until I draw my last breath and the life leaves my body and the crows come to feast on my eyes. You are my heart, Sansa. You are all I have. Never doubt that. Never.”

This is really the only way I ever thought about writing Jon react. There are other ways that might make sense, but needing to give Sansa comfort in that moment is the only thing that felt truly right to me.

Would Fucking Me Keep You True?

One of the techniques Martin uses a lot in asoiaf is a short phrase that gets stuck in a character’s head and repeats whenever they’re feeling a particular emotion. This is a technique that really works for me because it’s something that happens to me in real life (hurrah for mental illness), and “would fucking me keep your true?” is the one that crops up the most in this fic. Mostly it’s because it’s just such a good shorthand for the for the tangled and complex feelings Jon has for Sansa and his sense of duty and understanding of knighthood.

That tangle of feelings is what marks the next section of Jon and Sansa’s relationship through till the last chapter; as indefinable as it is, it’s the only solid and true thing in their lives, and it’s what Jon clings to after he leaves Sansa and sets off to find Dany and bring her back.

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This post got much longer than I thought it would, so I’m going to break this off here and finish it up in another post down the line.

#jon of the kingsguard #story autopsy #bts

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