#aims said im bright and welcoming

[atsoomi]

Happy 98 followers in celebration of 1989 taylor's version, for my almost-100 followers event you're all going to list your favorite 9 things about me 🩵

[grugruel]

hi, can you please write more of Arthur morgan😭I love your writing so much!🫶

Thank you!🫶 It makes me so happy to hear that you enjoy my writing, it really spurred on my motivation!😌 Still, I've been trying to write this for weeks, but ended up rewriting and starting over. Now im finally done, hope you enjoy this too!🥹

You've Kissed Me For Less

Pairings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: Arthur wants to teach you hunting. But as your effort proves fruitless and the weather fouls, Arthur needs to keep you warm in the cold hours of the night.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: forced proximity ish, pinv sex, sideways sex, cream-pie, petnames (sweetheart, girl, honey, darlin'), fingering, slight handjob, tension, flirting.

AN: The arrow misses. Not proofread!

Knock, draw . . . Hold . . . Aim, and . . .

"That's right . . . Atta girl."

Crack.

The furry beast jerked in surprise. Looking up, it's ears twitched and turned, attempting to determine the source of the sound. It's dark eyes alert and contrasting, standing out from the light snowfall filling the air.

She stood on unsteady feet, the broken twig beneath her boot throwing her off balance. "You're thinkin' to much, girl," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her neck, making her hair stand on end. "Release."

Siddled up to a tree, they were out of sight from their prey. A large pair of hands guided her arms, and a strong chest pressed firmly against her back. In the cold landscape they found themselves in, the reassurance from the heat of his body was duely welcomed.

She inhaled, holding it for steady aim. But restless and unfocused, she moved her weight from on foot to another–the snow crunched beneath her heel.

Her breath caught in her throat as the beast whipped in her direction, and their eyes met.

Release–the arrow pierced the air.

The gentle beast grunted and wheezed, fleeing as it bounced out of sight.

And where it had stood, her arrow struck bark. The shaft now coated in snow as the force of the blow shook the spruce and rid its branches of the bright, clamoring weight.

"Well," he began, attempting to hide the amusement from his tone. "It ain't easy . . . It's only your first."

She chuckled, her bow arm slumping to her side. "We've been at it all day, Arthur. Thats the fourth shot I've missed."

"Plenty of time to work on your trackin'."

She grunted, throwing her head back in frustration.

He'd wanted her to learn hunting so she could fend for herself if the need ever arose. But as long a she had him, it wouldn't. And if truth be told, she preffered it that way. Secretly sighing in relief each time the arrow missed it's target.

That day, they'd awoken with the sun, and been after the same deer all day. Poor bastard. He should really count his blessings, had Arthur been the one holding that bow they'd been heading back to camp within the first hour or so.

But the weather hadn't been a hassel. Soft clouds had sprinkled light snow all morning, only just coming to an end. But the air was clear and hellishly cold, enough so for the humidity in the air to freeze and glimmer as the mid-day sun shone upon them.

"Were in headwind." She shrugged. "And the poor thing darted off into the woods, we could continue tracking it from there," She said, and pointed toward the otherside of the lake. Surface frozen and snowed over, footing wouldn't be a problem.

"That so?"

"Well, yes-- what? What you grinning for?"

"Poor creature," he quoted, jerking his chin to the side. "You've been missin' on purpose."

She scoffed. "You think too highly of me, Arthur. I would gladly miss if I'd had the aim for it. But as it stands, I'm a poor shot with a bleeding heart."

"Nah, I think of you just right, sweetheart. But we needa eat." He pointed toward the treeline. "And the food just ran off."

She sighed heavily. He was right, but that didn't mean she'd be happy about it. "Well, let's go then. But I cant promise we'll be eating deer tonight ."

No," he began, a smirk spreading scross his lips. "But I can." He took the bow from her hand and the quiver from her back.

Alright, there were no more blessings to be counted.

"Your faith in me is lackluster, Arthur."

He scoffed and stepped onto the ice, nodding for her to follow. "First I think to highly of ya, 'n now its lackluster . . . Would you rather have me wither away . . . Starve to death?"

The ice sang beneath their feet as she thought about it, and her eyes automatically turned to his broad shoulders and thick arms. Her mind drifting to that hard chest and strong hands. "No . . . That'd be a damn shame," she said. "But I do have the basics down, would I really have to I could probably find myself some game."

Arthur chuckled, then stopped. "Tell you what . . . We passed a cabin, head back there and set up shelter," he said and looked toward the sky, the sun passing it's peak. "We're too far out, and probably won't be makin' it back to camp before dark. And I'll track down dinner."

"Really?"

Arthur kneeled down by the shore, examining the tracks. "Nah, don't want you to kill unnecessarily."

She was awed. That man possessed such kindness but was so careful with showing it, and she couldn't imagine why.

Her chest warmed and cheeks blushed, she hoped the cold could be played of as an excuse. "Thank you, Arthur. Truly," she smiled at him. But she wanted to convey her gratitude properly, for it was no small favour he did her.

"No need to thank me, honey. I understand."

But that wasnt enough, so- without thinking, she removed her glove and leaned down. Her hand found his jaw, and her lips his cheek. Gently, she pinched the sharp edge with the pads of her fingertips. And gently, she pecked his face with soft lips.

It was supposed to be a friendly gesture, but as her warm fingers met his cold skin and the stubble along the sharp edge tickled her lips–a trickle of longing brushed her insides.

She'd been sweet on him for a while, which woman wouldn't be? He could be soft and masculine, tough and sweet. He was a manly man, broad shouldered and handsome. He helped her lift heavy things, not because he assumed she couldnt do it, but because he wished to be of help.

She could not think of one thing she yearned for more.

So this touch, it must've been her subconscious. How many times she'd thought of brushing his cheek in gratitude, she could not remember. This time was no different.

As the sun shone on his face, and he'd done her this kindness, her mind must've gotten tired of all impulses stopped by her conscience and simply moved for her.

Now there they were, neither knowing what to do next.

Their eyes were locked on eachother, and Arthur's lips were parted as if he wished to say something but couldn't quite.

"I, I'll just-- I'm heading back, then. To that cabkn-" she began to gesture in the general direction, her mind keeping her tongue busy by rambling. "What am I saying, you can track me," she joked, awkwardly laughing, flustered by her own impromptu affection.

"I can . . . I'll find ya'." Was all he said, still kneeling and looking up at her.

Good, good good good. Before she knew it, she'd already turned around and began making her way back. Embaressment prickled her face, a thousand small needle points taunting her, and Arthur's reaction did nothing to ease her mind. She'd been a fool.

-

Night was closing in and the wind was picking up. Heavy snow began to fall, but thankfully, the cabin was abandoned and the roof was intact, protecting them from the weather, but not the cold. She managed to get a fire going in the old hearth, but it helped very little with warmth when the walls were ramshackle, allowing drafts and especially rough wind draw through.

Shivering down to her bone marrow, the girl hugged herself tightly. "Fuck me," she swore beneath her breath. "Ridiculous." The weather had changed within an hour, completley flipping the serene day into a hellish night. "Could think were in the damned arctics."

She'd endured 3 hours by her lonesome, thankfully forging for firewood before the storm set in.

But she couldn't help but worry for Arthur. He was a rugged man, but even he had limits. She kept thinking It'd all be alright once he got back there, to her side. But what could one man to about the weather?

With the cold came the hunger, and the regret not long thereafter. "Damn conscience," she muttered, her stumache growling.

She could barely see the trees surrounding the cabin, the snow doing more to sabotage her sight than the darkness. It was falling so thickly she could barely see between the flakes.

"Sorry for bein' late," announced a voice.

Startled, she turned toward it–the door opening had sounded like another howl from the wind. Trough the heavy curtain of snow, Arthur emerged, flakes swirling around him as he entered the cabin and the glow of the fire embraced him. "Damn tracks got muddled . . . blown over," he said, the overflow of irritation noticeable in his demeanor and tone. He looked weathered, clothes roughed up from the storm, hat collecting a nice layer of snow, cheeks and nose rosy. "Deer would've been too heavy in this shit," he gestured toward the snow and slammed the door shut behind him. "Got us some rabbits instead."

Wearing an incredulous expression, she had to laugh. She'd been worried about him being alone in this shit storm, fearing he might've frozen to death. But no, he brought rabbits, that's all.

"What's so funny," he asked, preparing the animals before placing them above the fire and taking a seat next to her.

She glanced at him. "That's all you got to say? You got some rabbits?"

"I already apologised to ya."

She scoffed, amazed by his resilience.

The annoyance began to melt from him, the heat thawing his mood. "What? I dont get a 'thank you' this time? You've kissed me for less."

She froze, narrowing her eyes on him. Those familiar needles pricking her skin again. "You didn't magically happen upon an extra blanket or so, did you?" She changed the topic, and as if to prove her point, a particularly violent shiver descended upon her.

Arthur shook his head, then removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. " 'Fraid not," he said, then handed her the cooked meat.

He wore another jacket beneath, but it was thin and unsufficient, in her opinion.

"Thank you," she whispered, and kissed his cheek once more. But there was no embaressment this time. Their eyes met, silently communicatingas mouths were to occupied with chewing. She suspected there'd been a lack of words even without the chewing. "I've kissed you for less," she agreed, then redirected her gaze into the fire.

-

They spent the next half hour in quiet as they ate, nothing but the howling wind and crackling fire to keep them company.

Eventually unrolling their bedrolls and attempting to sleep, a few short words for communication when needed. It proved difficult, however, for the night wore on and the temperature continued to drop.

She could hear her teeth clattering in her skull, even with Arthur's jacket on.

"You're still freezing."

"A-are you not?" She stuttered. The hearth was cramped with their bodies side by side. " 'M sorry if I w-woke you." She hated the idea of her body shivering so much it cost him his sleep.

"You'll get pneumonia, girl. We need to get you warm."

"H-how you figure t-that?"

"Well, I-- hell, let me warm you up."

She didn't stop to think before she spoke, proving a common theme. "Do it, Arthur p-please. Before my t-t-teeth shatter."

She heard a rustling behind her, and then she felt him slip into her bedroll. It was tight, but enough space for then to move around. "We needa get those off you," he murmured, voice gravelly.

She nodded profusely, feeling the familiar contours of his chest against her back. He removed both the jackets from her shoulders until there were nothing but the two thin fabrics of their shirts between their bodies.

She sighed, it felt like a radiator against her back. "F-Feels better already," she said, her dtutter subsiding and shivers calming.

"Good, you're alright, girl," he comforted, wrapping one arm around her waist as she propped her head on the other. He pulled her closer, leaving no space for the heat to escape.

Feeling his hand on her like this felt . . . Heavenly. As if his large hand was molded just to fit her curves. "I want more . . . Arthur. Warmer."

Without a word, he removed his shirt and got back into position. If freezing to death was all she had to do to achive this scenario, she would've done it earlier. Moving to do the same, she yearned for his heat to seep into her directly, skin to skin.

The body behind her stiffened, suddenly worried. "You don't have to, girl." He stopped her.

"I-I want to, Arthur. Im fine."

With her words of reassurance, he relaxed. His hands found hers, aiding her in the removal. She'd had no time to make it clear that there was no corset covering her since hunting didn't require one.

Arthur's breathing hitched at the revalation, prompting him to clear his throat. And his hands were simply hovering, uncertain where they belonged, where they were allowed.

"First time seeing a woman without a corset, Arthur?" She teased, uncertain where this sudden confidence came from, if it simply wasthe bizarre nature of the situation, or that it was only her bare back he could see.

He chuckled. "No, ma'am. 'S just . . . I dont wanna take any liberties."

"I don't mind, Arthur," she whispered. There's no liberties she wouldn't allow him to take, she thought.

Slowly, the hesitance melted away from him, and his fingers found her ribs. She sighed, content with their feeling. They burned, but pleasantly so. The reaction from her core was the only thing growing unbareable. Gaining confidence, his hand slid lower, following the length of her ribs. Fingers stopping just beneath the hill of her breast, hus thumb stroking small circles over her skin.

She hummed appreciatively, forgetting herself.

"Feelin' good?"

"Mmmh, warmer." She was finally relaxed enough to feel the low heat radiating from the fire, but with the numbness gone, the wind grew more noticeable. At times, a strong gust of wind would seep through the walls and graze her skin. Sending new shivers and goosebumps rippling across her body.

The retaliate and keep her heat up, she nudged herself closer to Arthur, tucking her hips and rear into his crotch. This gained her a low groan, and his fingertips sinking into the skin of her ribs like gentle claws.

"Better lay still now, girl," he warned, breathing onto her shoulder.

"Why's that?" She asked, but just as the words left her lips, she felt something slightly harden against her thigh. "Oh . . ." She gasped. Feeling it through both fabrics of their pants impressed her, salivated her.

" 'M sorry, sweetheart, 'm sorry." His thumb brushed back and forth, suddenly grazing the underside of her breast. She felt a twitch below the hips.

"Sorry, s-- I dont mean to," he breathed hard, leaning his forehead against her shoulder, attempting to focus.

"You can touch, Arthur."

"Now, honey . . . "

"I want you to," she assured him, knowing he might question the circumstances.

He shook his head hesitantly. "Dont wanna go takin' advantage of ya'."

You couldn't ever." She grabbed the hand that rested beneath her breast and guided it atop her, nipple already hard from anything and everything he does. "I want you to touch me."

He relented, andsqueezed her breast, releasing a grunt simultaneously. His lips found her neck, gently placing kisses on her skin.

She pushed back against him, grinding down on his crotch. "I want more than touching, Arthur . . ."

"I don't deserve you," he groaned, hand sliding over her chest to wrap his arm around her torso, bost breasts pressing firmly against his forearm.

The arm her head rested on reached down, brushing down her abdomen and beneath her pants. She gasped as his fingers found her clit. "All of you . . . Please." Her hand reach behind her, working to unbutton his pants as she turned her head over her shoulder, and their lips found eachother.

As the last button came undone and his length was free, her hands wrapped around it, gently stroking him and reveling in the pleased moans he breathed into her mouth.

"Hold on, hold on-" he stopped her. "I'll--" he swallowed, lips stalling against her own. "We only get one chance . . . tonight." He tried to clarify. " 'N I want ya' the right way." His hand momentarily left her chest to brush his fingers over the hand that held his member.

"I want that too," she whispered.

With her go-ahead, he pushed her pants below her ass and lined himself up with her entrance, her ass neatly tucked against his crotch, fitting together like piezes of a puzzle, perfectly matching. "Atta girl," he praised and pushed inside her.

They moaned simultaneously, lips reattaching. His hand were quickly back to work, breasts and clit stimulated by his expert hands all the while he thrusted in an out of her. "Feel so good."

She couldn't help but smile, panting between kisses as her body burned for him, every singel nerve flooding with electrical currents. "Harder, Arthur. I beg you. Im . . . G-Getting close. "

Arthur slowed his pace, arm leaving her clit to hold her torso, exchanging arms so he could hook her leg onto his arm for better leverage, reaching deep, hitting her core.

She cried out.

"C'mon, darlin'." He bit her lip. "Im right here."

"Mm, mhmm," she whimpered, the pressure in her core building, ready to topple over any second. Her vision grew blurry, chest heaving and breathing hard. And then- she came. Pleasure rolled over her, Arthur continuing to thrust into her as he prolonged her orgasm. "Breathe girl, you're alright," he comforted her. Fingers playing with her nipple. "Doin' so good."

She shook, she shivered, but the cold was no longer the reason, Arthur was. "Where-- where can I-"

"Anywhere," she moaned, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Too good to me, youre too good to me," he repeated. "Good girl." He grunted, finally toppling over himself, spilling his seed inside her. With a few final ruts, they collpased in eachothers embrace, sweat coating their skin.

"Is it hot in here or . . . ?"

Arthur chuckled and kissed her shoulder. "You're welcome, sweetheart." He wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Pretty girl."

"Thank you, Arthur," she said, and kissed his cheek.

"I get both now? A 'thank you' and a kiss? What's gotten into you?"

"Well," she held back a giggle. "You did."

"Funny," he said, a grinn on his lips, foolishly proud.

[luc1enn]

CROSSED SWORDS。。。

「 loading link, in three, two, one.. 」

thank you for the wait, [BLANK]. I hope you will have a pleasant dive.

I. - no user..?

[This is a Xiao x fem!reader and the concept is fully based on the game Sword Art Online.]

—>> character introduction | masterlist | next

[12:59]

。。。one minute remaining.

“Link start!”

Loading settings..

language ->> ENGLISH

Log In_:: :account

[BLANK]

:password

******

PLAY BETATEST CHARACTER [BLANK](W) ?

-> YES. NO.

。。。

Welcome to Sword Art Online !

[Your avatar will be chosen from the Beta test.]

「Loading data..」

“Feels good to be back here.” A wide smile stretched over my face. I looked around my surroundings, the feeling of nostalgia washing over me…

CHAPTER I. no user..?

I walked around the bustling streets from the town of beginnings, seeing many people converse excitedly about the full game release.

Entering an alley, I was met with 2 guys. One seemed to be begging the other for help and it was over all a pretty amusing scene.

“please show me some tricks im begging youuu~” The first guy whined, his turquoise long hair in a braid and he also overall reminded me of a bard.

“Fine, only if you stop annoying me then.” The other guy grumbled, his black hair in a high ponytail. “Yay~ the names Anemo!” the back haired guys eyes suddenly met mine, and the scowl on his face seemed to deepen.

“Who are you and why are you eavesdropping on us?” He frowned at me, walking up to me. “Sorry bro, I don’t have a username it’s blank.”

He raised an eyebrow at me and crossed his arms infront of his chest. “…right, Anemo let’s go.” He spoke, turning his back to me.

“Wait she seems like a nice person, let’s take her with us.” Anemo spoke cheerfully, dragging me along with them.

The back haired guy just shook his head in disappointment. “What’s your name by the way, you never mentioned it?” I asked him curiously, to which he only rolled his eyes to in response.

“It’s Alatus, don’t forget it.” I snorted at his words. “sure Alatus I won’t since it’s so important.” He only tsk’ed at my words, continuing to walk infront of me.

I burst out laughing seeing Anemo get hit by a boar as he groaned in pain, lying flat on the ground while holding his crotch.

“But you do realize you can’t feel any pain while being in SAO right..” Alatus said, trying to hold his laugh in. “oh wait yeah! sorry, that was a reflex hehe..”

He rubbed the nape of his neck while laughing. “Okay so again: It all depends on the motion you do at the beginning.”

Anemo raised his eyebrow. “Easier said than done, that boar won’t hold still for the life of me.”

Alatus picked up a rock from the ground. “So you begin the motion, then start to activate your sword skill and..”

He aimed with the rock and the rock suddenly started glowing im a bright green color. He threw the rock full force at the boar’s ass making it screech and a red mark being visible at his ass.

“The system sets the rest of the techniques together.” Alatus finished his explanation, stretching his arms over his head.

“hmmm motions you say…” Anemo mumbled, pulling his sword out. “You have to feel the skill activation.” I added onto Alatus’ speech, making him nod at me.

Anemo pulled his sword behind his back, the blade turning into a light blue color. Alatus kicked the boar in Anemo’s direction, making it charge at him.

He swung his sword at the boar, making a big gash on it’s side and killing it. “omg i did it!” He cheered, making me chuckle out in amusement.

“Congrats.” Alatus had a small smile on his face, holding his hand out to Anemo for a high-five. They slapped their hands together, smiling at each other.

“Sadly, the boar is no stronger than a mere slime so you basically did nothing.” I explained to him to which he let himself drop to the floor with a sigh.

“Man and here I thought it was like an OP enemy or something.” He whined, while Alatus only shook his head in amusement to in response.

“There are supposed to be an endless amount of skills in this game, yet there’s no magic or anything similar..” I thought out loud, to which Alatus nodded in response.

Anemo hummed at my thought. “A RPG without magic heh?” He charged his sword and activated his skill, attacking the air.

He was overjoyed with himself by his attack, squealing like a little girl. “It’s more fun to fight with your own body instead of playing an avatar, right?”

I sat down on the floor next to Alatus, making him raise his eyebrows. “You’re right tho, it’s definitely more fun.” He responded, a small smile grazing his features…

“This scenery is still so breathtaking.” I spoke with a smile, standing next to the 2 guys I’ve met today. “Yup. First day playing here and I’ve also 2 great friends!” Anemo spoke excitedly between Alatus and me, slinging his arms around both our shoulders.

Alatus only grumbled in response, yet he was not able to hide the blush growing on his cheeks.

“To think of it, this is my first full dive too, I can’t believe that this world isn’t real.” He muttered, staring off into the distance.

I hummed in response. “So you only got the gear for the release of SAO?” Alatus asked the bard looking guy next to me.

He nodded at his question, stretching his arms over his head. “Come to think of it, you were a beta tester right Alatus? you must’ve gotten pretty lucky.”

“Oh but I’m not the only one. It’s obvious that blank is a beta tester too by the way she was fighting.” He looked at me to which I nodded in response.

“Well then, shall we continue hunting?” I asked to which both agreed. “Oh wait actually I’m pretty hungry so I think i might log off for a while.”

Anemo sighed, rubbing his stomach from the hunger. “Later, some of my other friends wanna meet up with me, do you both wanna join?”

I nervously rubbed the back of my head, declining politely. “Sorry, I’m not really the person for groups of people.”

He gave me an assuring smile. “Don’t worry I understand. I’m guessing you won’t join either Alatus?”

“Nope, sorry man. I dislike many people.” I snorted at his response. “You’re a loner too I see.” He huffed at me, turning his head away.

“Well then, see you later guys!” He opened his menu to log off. “Huh? Why is there no log-out button..?”

“It’s fully down in the main menu.” Alatus and I both opened our menus. “What…? You’re right the log-out button is missing.”

I crossed my arms infront of my chest, letting out a sigh. “Must be a bug then. I mean, the game only has been out for a few hours after all.”

Anemo whined in response, dramatically falling to the floor. “I’m gonna starveee~” Alatus groaned in annoyance.

“Just text a game master then, they should be able to help you after all.” Anemo scratched his neck. “You see I tried that already, but there was no response. Is there not any other way to log out?”

I shook my head in response. “Sadly not, since you’re in a full dive. Plugging out the nerve gear won’t help either since it has build in batteries. The only way would be for someone to take it off your head.”

“You’re joking right? Man I live alone.” He let himself plop down on the floor, his spirits leaving him.

Suddenly, there was a loud bell ringing. “What’s….going on?” I mumbled, Alatus standing infront of me. A blue light engulfed all of us as we were suddenly teleported to the main area of the city.

“Are you guys all okay?” Anemo asked us, while I just confusedly looked around. “You guys stay on watch.” Alatus said, protectively stepping up closer to me.

“A forced teleport, but what’s the reason..?” I muttered, looking at Alatus in a questioning way. He only shook his head in response, signaling me that he doesn’t know.

“Guys look up there!” Anemo said, pointing at the ‘Warning:Announcement’ signs that started spreading around the area.

A red liquid started dropping from them, forming a body, similar to the one of a human. “That’s a game master..but he has no face?”

It suddenly started speaking in a robotic type of voice….

“Dear players, Welcome to my world.

I’m Ayato, the creator of SAO, I hope you guys enjoyed it so far..”

Many murmurs were heard from the people at his words, while I walked up closer to Alatus.

“I’m sure many of you have noticed the missing log-out button in your menu and I came here to tell you guys, this is not an error.”

My eyes widened at his words, a shiver overcoming my entire body.

“I repeat: This is not an error, but an original feature of SAO. Obviously since there is not a log-out button no one is allowed to take off your nerve gears, if they do it’ll send out waves with enough power to destroy your brain.”

I wrapped my arms around my body in a protective manner. “This has to be some sick joke..right?” Alatus put his arm on my shoulder in a way of calming me down.

“Sadly, many people have ignored that warning and have tried to remove the nerve gear by force, resulting in 213 players getting removed in the game and in the real world. The revival feature has been removed ingame, meaning if your HP sinks to zero, you’ll get erased permanently.”

Anemo gasped next to me in horror. “This is just fucking sick..” He muttered in fear, slightly trembling.

I noticed Alatus clutching his hands strongly next to me, blood slowly dripping down. I brushed my hands slowly over his to make him stop as I heard him take in a deep breath.

“Your only exit here out is to beat the game, meaning you have to clear all 100 floors. We are currently on the first floor in the city of beginnings. I will face you guys again in the 100th floor, but that time on the battlefield.”

“And the last thing, I left a present for you guys in your inventory, check it out. And with that note, I wish you all guys a nice time playing.”

I opened my inventory and saw a mirror. “What am I supposed to do with this thing?” Until suddenly a white light started surrounding me and the other players.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw in the mirror that I looked just like in real life. I looked back up and saw that a guy with yellowish cat-like eyes and short dark green hair standing very close to me.

“Are you…Alatus?” He mustered me up and down, not missing out a single detail from my appearance. “And I’m guessing you’re blank?” I nodded and looked next to us.

A guy with black hair and 2 turquoise braids was standing there and looked surprised at us. “Wow you guys look hella different.” The guy spoke, which I’m guessing is Anemo.

Panic started spreading around the crowd once realization hit in and everybody started running around.

“You guys come with me, I’ll go with you to the next best city before others arrive there.” Alatus spoke looking at us. “I’m sorry I can’t, my friends are somewhere among this crowd.”

Anemo looked at us apologizing. “I hope to see you guys again soon, don’t die on me.” He sent us a cheerful grin and set off to find his friends.

“Are you coming with me?” I nodded at him as we both took off to the next city together, unbeknownst to us making a new deep friendship bloom…

「logging out..see you again, [BLANK].」

[new story loaded, Alatus route selected. Good choice.]

[alluringjae]

au cours de l’été - jjh

⤑ translation: over the summer

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

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

⤑ masterlist

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

3 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)

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

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

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

“Jaehyun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”

12 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

début de juillet 1957

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

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

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

You can’t lie, but this man could pull any trend or style and still look extra pretty.

Out of all the locals you’ve befriended in your stay, Jaehyun was always your companion. He took you to varying places that those locals don’t visit nor tourists acknowledge in their reviews for the past few weeks. For someone who hasn’t been in the village for a long time, his memory didn’t disappoint. His childhood was only filled with cheerful moments.

Today, he was taking you to a peaceful district of shops in the farther part of the village. It’s where he’d buy sweets, journals, and accessories with his mother, Krystal, and one of his housemaids every other weekend.

All the stores there were currently bombarded with blooming flowers along their alley, bringing more enticement to those who were roaming around. There was so much life here; the head waiter of one restaurant smiling at every passing customer, one florist handing a free flower to anyone who asks, and a young lady showcasing her jewelry collection to a bunch of women who looked like tourists.

“Cette librairie vendent des livres enveloppés dans du papier. Ma mère m'a offerte l'un d'eux pour mon anniversaire tous les ans comme une surprise.” (This bookstore sells books wrapped in paper. My mother gifted me one of them on my birthday every year as a surprise.)

He trained his attention at a rustic shop with open wooden windows giving a glimpse of their shelves.

“Avez-vous fini les lisant?” (Have you finished reading them?)

“Du début à la fin.” (From cover to cover.)

He took you to this rooftop restaurant overlooking the entire plaza. Since he didn’t arrange a reservation yet didn’t get rejected, he must know the owner. Especially how a lot of the staff gave casual hellos and high fives.

Speaking of the owner, he walked out of his kitchen to introduce himself to you. He went by the name Moon Taeil, another one of Jaehyun’s childhood friends whom he used to play at his house whenever his parents came along.

Gobbling up in the appetizing food Taeil prepared beforehand, Jaehyun brought up your painting exhibition again. He loved hearing artists talk about their works, wanting to know more about their driven mindset and what their imagination is like. After all, it does vary for everyone.

“So far,” You poked your fork through the chicken, taking a bite of it. “I’ve produced 3 paintings. The garden of flowers outside Café des Étoiles Perdues, the kids playing hopscotch in the alley, and the peach tree outside your house.”

“Woah, you’re on a roll.” Jaehyun clapped across you, pouring you another glass of water. He recalled the nights you ranted not having any clue what to do for the exhibit. Then after taking you to more places, he’s rewarded to see you be creatively active again. “How many artworks do you left to make?”

“Around 3-4 left. I have ideas already, but I’m still brainstorming.” You internally rejoiced, loving how much progress you’ve made. “How about you, Jaehyun? How’s your progress?”

Unlike you, Jaehyun still felt stuck. Although he did find couples around the village, none of them intrigued him as much as his past stories. But he won’t give up easily; that’s not in his work ethic.

“Still searching, but I’ll get there.”

Recently, you got ahold of some of Jaehyun’s books from him personally since they weren’t sold in the village. You wanted to understand how he became so well known outside the labels people put him under. Reading his first novel entitled “Des Papillons” (Butterflies), it was about a couple separated during World War II without contact or knowledge about their well-being. Yet whenever they saw butterflies on the day they parted, they took it as a sign that the other was alive wherever they were.

You’re always hanging on the cliff when the scenes revert back and forth to the main male lead getting stuck in intense war scenarios, rooting for him to get out alive each time. In the end, it took 7 years before they were reunited and wed.

Jaehyun had a wonderful way with his words and descriptions, managing to enwrap you in as if you’re also a character in the book. Like how you rooted for that male lead, you’re rooting for him to find his spark again.

Following this uplifting conversation, Jaehyun finally took to your greatly anticipated spot. It was the main viewpoint of Gordes, one of the most beautiful hilltop villages in the country. The sunset was about to hit, and the lights from the city across you slowly turned on like a bunch of dominos.

As you marveled at its aesthetics, Jaehyun leaned against the hood of his car. He sensed how in awe you were, more than you ever were in the city he assumed. So used to the city that being surrounded with nature became foreign to you.

He took out his polaroid camera from his trunk and captured a photo of you from behind. The shutter sounds were obvious, turning your back at the commotion. Jaehyun fanned the freshly printed photo to dry, giving a mischievous smile.

“What can I say? While you’re fawning over the view, mine was more enamoring.”

Although Jaehyun felt overwhelmed the first time he locked eyes with you, he can’t resist the power of his developing feelings for you. The more time he took you around, the more his heart found different details about you to admire. After listening to all those love stories in the past, the people he spoke to shared how there will be some distinct moment where your heart decides who they’re longing for.

That exact view of you by the cliff, he already knew.

He’s infatuated by you.

“Tu es très ringard, Jaehyun.” (You’re so cheesy, Jaehyun.) You scoffed sassily, with a hand on your waist.

“Un gentleman ne ment jamais, (Y/N). Allez, il fait nuit maintenant.” [A gentleman never lies, (Y/N). Come on, it’s night already.]

He cleverly responded, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. The trip back to the village was energizing, putting down the roof of his car to relish the chill breeze of the night weather. You even raised your arms in the air, losing your scarf even from the speed Jaehyun went at!

The two of you belted along to the songs on the radio when the fields were the only ones surrounding you, no neighbors to shout at your rambunctiousness.

The late-night hours drew by so quickly almost like dinner with more of Jaehyun’s friends didn’t happen. Arriving at the front doors of your apartment complex, Jaehyun raced over to your side to open your door. Always maintained proper observation of manners, you appreciated that side of him. Rarely anyone in Paris that you’ve encountered treated you that way because you were a foreigner.

“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]

“Bonsoir, Jaehyun. Quand est-ce que je te revois?” (Goodnight, Jaehyun. When can I see you again?)

“Demain et après-demain. Appelle-moi quand tu es libre.” (Tomorrow, and the day after that. Just give me a call when you’re free.)

With a short wave, you entered your building and marched up to the stairs. A good day only meant being tired to the core, ready to crash and fall in your soft bed. Opening your wide windows to let more of the cool breeze in, your eyes easily caught Jaehyun’s classy car still there. As for the owner, he didn’t move an inch from his leaning position.

“Rentre à la maison, Jaehyun! C’est tard!” (Go home, Jaehyun! It’s late!) You shrieked, peeking side to side to make sure none of the neighbors scold you.

Jaehyun laughed wholeheartedly, not budging at all. “La nuit ne fait que commencer, ma chérie.” (The night has just begun, my darling.)

“Comment tu m'as appelé?” (What did you call me?)

Either your ears were fooling you or he addressed you by a divine pet name. The gasp you swallowed, as your entire body tingled with exhilaration. Your mind would simply disregard it like his former teasing words, but your heart begged to differ.

Rather than responding with words, Jaehyun’s voice serenaded you with a wondrous song, C’est Si Bon by Eartha Kitt, that played on the radio earlier. Out of the blue, a random guitar accompaniment followed his baritone vocals.

“En voyant notre mine ravie,”

Against the railing of your wired balcony, your body shifted forward to watch him better.

“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”

Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.

“C'est si bon de guetter dans ses yeux,”

It was like a lullaby, and here you were drowning in its peacefulness. Sensing the passion he gives off in his singing, your heart couldn’t refrain the strings inside from being swayed and tugged.

This was your moment of realization: that you too were smitten.

“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”

À la mi-juillet de 1957

“Hello, nature!” You greeted brightly as your legs raced the huge garden in his manor. It was the first time he invited you over, too lazy to go out of the city. His social battery needed a recharge for the weekend, so a picnic within his home would do the trick. Additionally, it was an excuse to bring you over after the numerous times you’ve begged him to.

Jaehyun merely shook his head, enjoying the rush of childlike fun in your veins while you squealed and grazed your hands through the flowers.

He carried a wooden basket full of treats his family maids cooked, taking his time to venture through the rows of flowers. They were growing healthily and phenomenally these days, sometimes riding his bike to personally water them since he became busy with writing again. Lately, he found inspiration again, and so he wrote day and night to set them free.

“Voila!” You yanked out a sunflower, sniffing it a little. “Come on, Jaehyun! Pick up a few for our lunch!”

He followed your order, picking out some he found ideal. But just for fun, he put down the basket and carried you from behind out of the blue. You tried kicking him away, but his muscular arms can’t compete with your soft ones.

“What are you doing?”

“You said to pick up a flower, so I did. The prettiest of them all.”

His flirtatious words were never serious, yet you took it as a compliment. That’s how high your confidence is. Only we define our own worth, not others. The two of you chatted more about your lives until the first rain of the season poured down, chilling down from the raging heat. None of you had an umbrella; the weather was too unpredictable.

Deciding to just run for it, he gave you the wooden basket to protect yourself whilst he used the blanket you’ve sat on. Running with laughter to return to his mansion in the muddy dirt, the cool drops shivered your figure yet felt fantastic.

If you were in the city, you’d panic because it’d mess your appearance and your boss would be infuriated by your unprofessionalism. But in the countryside, it didn’t matter at all. The condition of the rain wasn’t budging to improve, getting stronger by the minute. His entire house even lost power, his housemaids having to bring candles to his bedroom and your assigned one once night dawned.

It was hopeless to return home for you, plus it’s dangerous to drive in in the dark, narrow streets too. Jaehyun handed you some of his fresh clothes so you’d be free from flinching from cold dress sticking to your body.

“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”

Nodding, you excused yourself to find the bathroom. You’d assume it’d be easy, but this was your first time in his house; a mansion even. Doors from left to right, long corridors that seemed never-ending, no maids were within the vicinity whom you can ask for guidance.

Resorting to return to Jaehyun’s chamber for help, you were taken aback by what your eyes laid on. In front of his full mirror, he discarded his now-dried shirt. Even with the dim lighting, you could make out that he was fit by the transparent view of his abdomen. Peeping like this was wrong, yet you couldn’t turn away just yet. The heat in your cheeks was inevitable, finding composure in such an unholy sight.

Though a gear in you suddenly twisted; a gear that straightened your nerves. You’re taking a bold move on the chessboard of your feelings. Wholly opening his bedroom door again, you leisurely sauntered inside without warning.

“Oh, (Y/N)! Ne peux pas trouver la salle de bain?” (Oh, (Y/N)! Can’t find the bathroom?)

Unbothered as he stood shirtless, you on the other hand silently dropped his clothes on the floor. Holding intense eye contact, your fingers graciously unzipped the side of your dress. Inch by inch, the tension built up like the strong tiny flames lit on the candles around you two. Joining the pile of clothes, all that remained were your white lace undergarments. Unplanned for the get-go, it’s the ideal set for your earlier outfit at the picnic.

“Je me suis perdue, mais je pense avoir trouvé quelque chose de mieux.” (I got lost, but I think I found something better.)

Your fingers grazed your arm up to your collarbones, faking your naivety. From your lust-filled stare, the glint in Jaehyun’s eyes darkened. He gulped at the revealing sight of you, brushing his hair back to restrain himself.

None of you could utter a single word, only the vivacious rain being the only sounds ringing around you. Thus, you allowed your actions to pursue precisely what you desired to do.

Taking baby steps towards him to test the waters, he met you right in the center and closed the leftover space. His hands cradled your face, whilst yours clung to his chest. His lips tasted like red wine, watching him pour in a glass for himself earlier. He did offer, yet you declined.

Your tongue darted his lower lip, gaining access after. Sensing the edge of his bed, you plopped yourself down the cushion. His knee urged your legs to widen, letting his body slide in. From your face, his fingers lowered to the back of your bra, snapping the clasps open.

“It takes skill to accomplish that in one try, Jaehyun.”

“I lived in Paris too, ma chérie. You out of all people would understand and have the experience.”

His palms massaged your freed breasts, throwing your head back even more to his pillows as his lips ravaged down from your stomach until the fabric of your not-so pure panties.

“Call me that again, please.”

“Ma chérie, seras-tu mienne?” (My darling, will you be mine?) He kissed and licked the tiny ribbon in front repeatedly, where your now-swollen clit laid. It electrified your bones, pulling on to his ruffled hair.

“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)

Sex in the form of one-night stands were all you’ve invested; upcoming artists like you weren’t capable to maintain long-term relationships. Les plans à trois even if you’re extra freaky or drunk from the afterparties of your events. All that these occurrences had in common were not seeing those men ever again after sneaking out of their apartments in the morning.

This time, it’s different.

When they said that doing the deed with someone you’re romantically entangled with was more special, they didn’t bluff. You could plan bits of your life, but it can sometimes change aspects of it when you least expect it. Sometimes for the best or the worst, but right now, it went beyond your expectations.

It’s rewarding that the man you’ve slowly fallen for within your stay returned your affections.

Around late 3 am that night, your brain jolted with artistic ideas that awoken your sonorous rest. There are no hopes of sleeping them off because they tend to bother you for hours until you do something about it. But you’re already so cozy having Jaehyun’s arms around you, skin to skin under the duvet. His lips daunted right above your forehead, recalling his endless kisses there that helped you fall asleep.

Well, these ideas don’t work themselves unless you do. Untangling him tactfully, you stepped out of the blanket and wore one of his long white shirts he gave you earlier before pulling out your sketchpad and palette of oil paints.

Luckily, there was still one available candle to use as the rest have melted indefinitely. You slid the matchstick again to the sand surface, boring a flame from the friction which you placed on top of the wick.

All your ideas that night leaned towards one thing, or person rather: Jaehyun.

You spent a few minutes retracing how he vividly looked at the picnic, leaning back from the chair of his work desk. His outfit of a turquoise turtleneck underneath a white button-top with trousers matching the said turtleneck looked good together, how his ears tingled red after you complimented his newfound inspiration for his book, and the prominent veins in his arms when he rolled his sleeves due to the heat.

The thin brush you held defined the shape of his face, then paying attention to the messy strands of his hair. Stroking in a circular way to outline his eyelids, a hoarse grunt disturbed the peaceful silence.

“Get back in bed, ma chérie.” His eyes drowsily opened, lying on his side. The moment he no longer felt your warmth, he worried something happened. Instead, you’re working late at night after quite a rough yet romantic night.

“Shush,” You shunned him down with your index finger. “Give me a few more minutes.”

“Perhaps, are you painting me?” He hunched from the covers. “Your eyes looking back and forth would never lie to me, would they?”

“Maybe…” You teased, batting your eyes at him without any risky intentions. Or not?

He deeply chuckled, sluggishly removing himself under the covers. In his pure nudity, he advanced himself towards you. You shrieked, covering yourself with your free hand.

“Jaehyun, stay back! I told you I’ll be there soon!”

Not listening, he carried your bridal style, making you drop your precious palette to the fur rug. Laying you carefully, he popped each button open. By the sight of his cock hardening again, you knew you were in for another round with him.

“Wet again, ma chérie? Oh, this will be fun.”

Fin de juillet 1957

So this kind of summer romance concept that everyone fantasized about… it became your present.

Together you’d stroll in the smaller streets and immerse yourselves in the unique culture of the village. Whenever anyone saw you together, holding hands, biking, or what-not, they’d praise in the name of love for bringing you both together. A romance like yours in the countryside was a lively sight.

Remember how extensions were a possibility if your search for inspiration wasn’t found? Well, it’s not a question that you’d make one, except inspiration found you instead. And he had one arm around you as he slow danced with you in the open grounds of the village, listening to the live band covering song classics.

In particular, Chet Baker. He was Jaehyun’s favorite artist at the moment.

There was an ongoing week-long festival dedicated to summer, giving more plants their bloom and spreading gratitude to the hardworking people. Especially the students, off on their break.

The faint radiance from the post lights as Jaehyun swayed you around, making you laugh as he tried to mumble the lyrics of the song. All those glasses of wine he tried earlier with you from the bartender offering it for free had its effects, and you weren’t off the hook from them either.

Blisters started to form from your ankles, adjusting to the new pair of heels Jaehyun gave (or insisted to buy) you a while ago after staring at them like lasers. You’ve always provided things for yourself that being spoiled by someone else felt weird to you.

“If there’s anything you want me to buy for you, just tell me.”

“How can I buy you if you’re already mine?”

His smooth talk often made you punch his shoulder, but it’s just a mechanism to hide the exhilaration.

Under each other’s spells in your dance, you laid your head on Jaehyun’s chest. Feeling the strong beat of his heart, you were reminded of how much life he’s filled with. And you became a part of it, in the same way he crossed yours.

Jaehyun’s lips sank to the top of your head, pecking it affectionately. The first-ever summer where he wasn’t stuck at his desk working or drinking his life away with his rich friends in their Parisian homes, it couldn’t get better than this.

“Oiii! Flirtez ailleurs!” (Oiii! Flirt somewhere else!) The distinct voice of Jaemin, handing out pastries to passersby, shouted at the both of you, making you flip your middle finger at him.

“Trouve une copine d’abord, d’accord?!” (Find a girlfriend first, alright?!) You shouted back jokingly, almost falling due to the ache of your feet. Your immodest behavior was censored by Jaehyun’s large palms, not wanting the kids around to see it. Whispering closely to your ear,

“Tu es ivre. Laisse-moi te ramener chez toi.” (You’re drunk. Let me take you home.)

You changed back into your sandals as Jaehyun led you through the different alleys. Your vision was too hazy to navigate, so he had one arm wrapped around your shoulders. The weather grew cold too, shivering your bones so he draped you in his blazer.

“Wait,” You stopped, making him do the same. But before he could ask for your reason, your hands yanked him by his suspenders and your legs walked backward to reach the brick wall. Standing in his 5’11 glory, you were overpowered.

Yet your lips captured his effortlessly, raising to your toes to press yourself closer to him. He moved fast, one arm hugging your waist while the other hoisted your leg up. Tangling around his waist, the urge to move your hips against his crotch couldn’t be contained any longer.

Everyone was probably still out at this time or sleeping. The sloppy sounds you’ve produced were beyond suitable for any audience. Not to mention, the nasty words Jaehyun’s pretty mouth spoke in your ears desired you to fall to your knees.

“Not afraid of getting caught, ma chérie? You want me to ruin you right here, right now?”

“God, Jaehyun,” Your hands tugged his belt forward, the friction it gave to your core twitched the naughty side out of you. “Do it, please.”

The idea of public sex thrilled your mind into overdrive, yet you’ve never done it. In Paris, a city where several people started to know your name, you didn’t need a scandal to be plastered in your resume yet.

Jaehyun himself included, and still opted not to give it to you.

“Another time, ma chérie. Your apartment, now.”

The moment you unlocked your apartment door, Jaehyun was far from gentle like in the mansion. Ripping you out of your frilly dress didn’t take long, so was unbuttoning his trousers down to the floor.

On your knees, his hand gave you a makeshift ponytail as your tongue flicked the slit of his cock. Then slowly taking him inch by inch on your mouth, you’d let out a loud pop when you needed to breathe. Your hands fondling his balls, he groaned from the edge of your bed and tightened his hold on you. Tears formulated in your eyes as you got to swallow him whole, uncontrollably bobbing your head.

He felt like putty when he released, your throat taking the salty base. You hastily unhooked your bra in front of him when suddenly, his hand flicked on the fabric of your panties, cueing you to stop your motion.

“Keep them on when you ride me.”

Straddling on his lap, his head laid against the headboard of his bed. His arms roaming around your back to stabilize you, your fingers pushed your panties to the side as you pushed yourself down his protected length. Your moans became shaky. Up and down, you bounced while bracing on his shoulders.

Against his ear, your moans were harmonious. His hips moved against your beat, hitting your g-spot like the sexual ace he is. His thumb rubbing your clit, you shuttered your eyes at the impending high approaching you like a bus.

“I’m close.” You choked out, the overstimulation overwhelming your nerves.

“Fuck, me too.” He grunted, slapping your butt that made you shriek.

Soon enough, everything hit you both all at once. The knot snapped, and so did your body falling on his chest after a single scream. Panting, Jaehyun pecked on your temple as his cock softened up. Once you returned to your senses, you lifted yourself from his length, laying bare beside him.

His eyes started to fall, but before they did, he muttered huskily. “Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

It was the first time he’s said those words in the way they meant, and he’s more than certain that it’s what he felt with you. Sure, it started as mutual infatuation, but now, it can’t leave. Not on his watch.

Love was a concept unfamiliar to you, but Jaehyun slowly taught you what it was and how it felt like. Books and films may give sneak peeks, but to personally give and receive it back was made possible by him.

From this moment on, you could conclude that yes, you reciprocated it.

“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”

16 octobre 1957

Autumn made its way to the countryside.

The leaves switched into red-brown shades, the weather in the south was warmer, and the wine harvest was highly anticipated. Jaehyun’s camera was a common item in your outings, taking as many photos as he could so the two of you had something to look back on.

Planned and candid, his range was wide. These were moments that proved that your youth was as happy as you wished it to be. You wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

Painting in his mansion was a regular thing, having new canvases prepared at his patio. There were so many items that amused you there like you could base your entire collection on his home. It’s not like Jaehyun could argue; it meant more time with you whenever you came over.

“Jaehyun, if you smudge paint on me, so help me Go-” He refused to listen to your “threats”, smearing black paint on your cheek.

“You were saying?” He cockily pestered, showcasing his paint-filled fingers. You dipped one of your brushes into the new paint and chased after him without hesitation. The entire evening became a paint war, a laugh fit even after seeing your reflections in the mirror. But before you could clean yourself, Jaehyun’s camera was by your face and he pressed the button.

“Still breathtaking.”

But the middle of the season arrived, that’s where your planned extension you’ve reached its end. The exhibit was next month, getting calls from your boss regarding your return and the paintings you’ll present. You informed her that you already had them mailed to your studio way back, so there’s nothing much to worry about.

All your bags were packed in the private car Jaehyun rented. Here, you’re bidding your goodbyes to every friend you’ve made outside the doors of your apartment complex, saving your last words with Jaehyun.

The night before, he stayed over and helped you pack your last items in luggage bags. He even brought extra clothes for you so you wouldn’t work extra. You’ve talked it out the whole evening through what happens next to ease your worries. In your bed, he opened the wide windows and pulled you under the sheets.

“Write to me.”

“Call me when you’re free, or whenever you feel like it.”

Leaning against the railing of the stairs, watched the sorrow in your face over this parting. He sensed how bittersweet everything was, but he wouldn’t change anything about it. He’s positive that your story won’t end here, not right now.

Sauntering to him, you sighed whilst taking your bag he held the whole time from him. His touch was tighter as the two of you hugged tenderly, nuzzling his head on your shoulder. The scent of his citrus cologne that implanted in your brain felt comforting, despite the uncertainty of everything between you.

You hinted a minty taste from the menthol candies from his home as his lips brushed yours, colliding it timely. He waited when everyone left, relishing these last seconds.

Stepping inside the vehicle, you waved your summer love farewell one more time before the driver hit the pedal. Your eyes couldn’t stray away from looking back, the distance between him and your former apartment widening. Only when he was no longer in the frame, you shifted your focus back in front.

Your fingers fiddled with the charm bracelet he gifted you from the market. It was custom-made by a jeweler who was great friends with his mother in his younger years. There were two pendants chained on it: a paintbrush and the sun.

“A paintbrush to remind you of your passion, and the sun to remind you of the summer we first met.”

The man was like one of his romance books, in human form. He knew how to catch your breath effortlessly.

Your stay, for now, may have concluded, but there was always next summer. And the ones after that. The village felt like a second home, one you can’t neglect like the other places you’ve lived. Then having Jaehyun here, the more reasons to return.

Undoubtedly the best vacation you’ve ever been in your adult years, one that didn’t sacrifice for your art so you could compete with other artists. The weight on your chest poofed into thin air, and you felt ready for what the next steps as a painter were.

Appreciating the greenery you passed by, you peeked over the side mirror of the car only to find Jaehyun quickly biking in your direction.

Now, what was he up to?

You instantly requested the driver to slow down his pace, rolling down the window of the car. Not caring about the strong winds, “You fool, what are you doing?!”

Although he trusted your last words, he had the greed to see your face again. It would be a long time until he’ll see you in person again. So he pedaled as fast he could to still reach you. Oh, the things you do when you’re in love.

“Mon cœur bat la chamade pour toi, (Y/N)!” [My heart beats loudly for you, (Y/N)!]

You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.

“Je reviendrai bientôt, Jaehyun!” (I’ll come back soon, Jaehyun!)

21 octobre 1957

Only your friends at the studio gave you a warm welcome back, receiving comments like “get back to work” from your first encounter with your boss. Popping a champagne glass open after work hours on the rooftop of your studio, they interrogated you with all the questions they could think of.

“So this village in Provence…. was it beautiful as the tourists said?” Ten, who moved from his home in Thailand to Paris at a young age, expressed his curiosity whilst leaning against the railing overlooking the Eiffel Tower.

“Beautiful is an understatement, Ten. I miss it dearly!” You heaved a sigh, twirling your glass.

“So this inspiration you were looking for…” Amélie, your dear friend since your university days, created some tension as she prolonged her last word. Playfulness twinkled in her eyes, crossing her legs. “Was a person involved by any chance?”

For a moment, your throat almost gagged on the sizzling alcohol going down.

“What do you mean?” You acted clueless, pouring your now empty glass with more booze. But the moment Ten gave you the troublesome look coordinating with Amélie, you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. These two were such gossips in and out of the studio.

Ten took the seat across you on the table and leaked all his pent-up information.

“So you know Seo Youngho, the only son of the Seo family. Rich, socialite, a total hotshot… yeah, all that jazz.” He dived in, seeing you nod over knowing that man. Someone in the past you’ve slept with, but that’s another story. “Well, Amelie and I attended one of his parties at his large penthouse. He had his usual crowd there; Kim Doyoung, Lee Taeyong, Nakamoto Yuta, and Lee Minhyung. But fun fact: there’s another member in that friend group who doesn’t go to these kinds of events.”

“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Amélie excitedly took off like the pipelette (chatterbox) she is. “Youngho, who was talking to us for a bit, asked where you’ve run off. Poor him, he must’ve missed you in his bed but anyway! We told him that you went down south somewhere in Provence for a break. Oddly enough, he mentioned how the mentioned member moved back there for the same reason.”

Ten and Amélie gave each other another frisky look, merely to piss you off. So predictable of them.

“Get to the point please!” You screeched.

“Jeong Jaehyun, ever heard of him?” Amélie imitated your tone of voice. “I mean, you should since you made a whole painting of him.”

“H-How,” Speechless, that’s what you were. Ten went on a fit of giggles, signaling the build-up of his intoxication.

“Youngho visited the studio to find a specific painting for his home, and we helped him in choosing. Then when your deliveries of paintings arrived that day and were unwrapped, the look on his face when he saw Jaehyun’s painting was priceless. Things started to add up, especially when he told us that he called up Jaehyun prior, he said that Jaehyun was seeing a girl during his stay there.”

“A young, burnt-out painter from Paris, to be specific.”

They’ve put you on the edge of the cliff, and it was too close to call it a coincidence. Of all things to be revealed, this had to be the first.

“Well, I was waiting for another time to tell you guys about him though.”

Their gasps of joy could give you guys a noise complaint by the neighbors, telling all about your escapades of him and you. During it, the more you missed seeing him daily either on his bike or his car. It was stuck in your routine, but now it’s reverted to your old one.

Could the next summer come any faster?

14 février 1958

Perhaps your newest collection at the Louvre was your most successful one yet.

Entitled “Inspirez, Expirez” (Breathe In, Breathe Out), your sceneries during your stay in the village varied. An old couple slow dancing under the night sky, and the quiet district of shops Jaehyun took you, those were some of your last additions.

A multitude of positive reviews on the newspapers and art magazines came in, commending on taking on a fresher, brighter outlook for a change whilst finding your spark again. As fulfilling it was, what you longed the most was the one responsible for it.

Lately, it’s been tough to contact him. His maids always answered the calls, informing you that he was busy with work or family matters. It’s so rare for him to act like this. Whatever it was, it wasn’t grand or serious hopefully.

Back to your collection, tonight was the last night of it. Just in time for Valentine’s day, where numerous socialite lovers embarked on this event, but you’re more fixated that it was also Jaehyun’s birthday. A boy full of love born on the day dedicated for it, things made more sense. In case, you’ve sent your birthday wishes to him through letter and passing the message to one of his maids. Even on his special day, he hasn’t reached out to you.

But to momentarily forget about that, there was a closing ceremony held for this exhibit with the other artists involved, and it was your turn to give your final remarks. More esteemed socialites and journalists were present, which didn’t halt your nerves the slightest. You were a professional after all, holding pride in your craft as you stood in front of the microphone wearing your new favorite custom-made gown.

There are perks when you have close friends in the fashion industry, specifically Kim “Key” Kibum from the House of Key. After defending him from a disrespectful client when you were picking up a dress for your boss during your internship years, not only did you earn his respect, but an invite to his shows and first claiming of new items from his collections. Dining in expensive restaurants in the metro was a plus, catching up on your lives. Sometimes calling each other out for your sexcapades too.

Speaking of him, he was in the crowd that night, ordering every photographer to take photos of your gorgeous self in one of his dresses. Or in your opinion, bribing some by how he stuffed a few thick stacks of Euro bills down their pockets.

Only one of it ever made. A dark green satin v-neck off-the-shoulder gown, where diamonds adorned your neck and ears and white stilettos kept your perfect balance. Also courtesy of Key.

Because it’s the winter season, he gifted you a limited edition white fur coat every socialite tried getting their hands on. Your hair was styled in a bun, emphasizing your dark tinted lips from this new lipstick Amelie insisted you buy.

Most people would get the first impression that you were one of the socialites, a child from one of the affluent families even. But you were a lot more remarkable than that, having inborn talent in the arts that you specialized over your youth and rising to the top without any parental help.

“Thank you to everyone for their endless support towards the magnificent collections of each artist present. As for mine, I am grateful to rechannel my creative side by taking a break. Rather than romanticizing overworking our bones to the core, there’s nothing wrong with taking a step back from the pressure. Being alive is a blessing, realizing further how our youth won’t stay with us forever. Being away from the boisterous cities, I found relaxation in the countryside of Provence.”

Your lips quirked into a grin as every single memory during that time reeled in your head like a movie. “The beauty of Provence cannot be simply put in words. The muses I’ve encountered were more than lovely, especially the man behind the Poetic Rose. With that, I sincerely thank everyone from my bottom of my heart and I hope to continue to support me in the years to come.”

The applause roared once you stepped down the platform, shaking hands with every esteemed guest with more gratitude as they praised you. These days, socializing with them was a lot easier. You’ve even taken more initiative to greet people first before they do, conversing with them easily about anything.

Key definitely noticed that as you toured him around your section, holding his nth glass of wine for the night.

“You, Madame (Y/N), transformed into a social butterfly.” He nudged your shoulder, smirking once he got a better view of his favorite painting from you. “I guess that’s the thing when you’re in love.”

“I beg your pardon?”

With this free hand, he motioned it up and down at the painting in front of you. “The Poetic Rose is none other than the youngest son of the Jeong family, whom I’ve met through his older sister, Krystal.”

“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know him?!” You stressed, jokingly. Key was elated to capture you in his trap, the changes of your personality too evident in his eyes. Figuring it out that it was love took a while, but being acquainted with Krystal, she’s the one who told him that her younger brother was in love with a painter in Provence. Do the math.

“I’ve met him through his older sister, one of my highly favored clients. He’s not much of a socialite like her, so I don’t really blame you for that.”

Searching for a waiter to refill your wine glasses, a surprise emerged the both of you.

“Madame Krystal, you’re absolutely stunning.”  Key complimented her, giving the engaged heiress of Jeong Tea Inc. kisses on the cheek as respect. Her recent engagement to Kim Donghyun, her childhood sweetheart and also the heir of Kim Couture, was the talk of the town.

They arrived at the event together, drawing the attention of everyone in the room earlier. Now, he was speaking to a few influential socialites he made a deal with this week about the art collections present.

“Key, you never fail to look fantastic,” She remarked positively, poking his necktie before placing her undivided attention on you. “So you must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’re beyond bewildering in that gown.”

“Flattered to hear that, Madame Krystal. Such a pleasure to meet you.”

The three of you chatted as if you were the only people there. From art, passion, and love, pride filled in your chest when you toured your collection. It was like walking down memory lane for her, adding out how she used to climb the peach tree with her younger brother during their childhood. Once her eyes laid on Poetic Rose, she took her time admiring it.

“My younger brother grew up well. That’s all I could ever hope for as his only older sister.” She paused, noticing how silent you became when you stared at the painting along with her. She observed the passion lit in your eyes, yet there was longing behind it by the way your lips pouted briefly. “You must really love him, do you?”

“I do, truly. After meeting him, not only was I boosted with so much ideas, but my heart embraced him for what and who he is in this universe.” You professed confidently, earning an approving smile from Krystal.

“If that’s how you feel, why not tell him that yourself?”

Her fingers gestured you to turn around. Stood in a grey suit with his brown hair slicked back, it was like seeing a completely new person. A handsome one though. His fashion in the countryside heavily differed from his fashion in the cities. So sophisticated and refined, he looked like a prince straight out of a fairytale.

Your fairytale.

“Jaehyun.”

It’s like everything stopped once he sprinted towards you, pulling you off your feet for a snug hug. Your arms threw themselves on his neck by instinct, not wasting a single second in his grasp. Your nose inhaled the woody scent of his cologne, something more formal than his usual fruity scent.

The smell of aftershave in his jaw couldn’t go ignored either, assuming that he must have had plans to go out tonight. Nonetheless, you squealed as if you were back in Provence, giggling at his boldness. Once he put you down, neither of you could get your hands off each other.

“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you’d be in Paris!” Clutching your waist, you gazed at him with doe-like eyes, instilling confusion.

“J’ai voulu te surprendre, my chérie.” (I wanted to surprise you, my darling.)

He chuckled, pushing some straying strands of your hair behind your ear. His eyes evoked so much endearment towards this elegant look you prepared, making his heart race as if he were in the gardens of his manor again.

Hearing his petname for you again attacked your heart every time no matter how much time passed, he lifted your chin high. Jaehyun urged himself to kiss you senseless right there, leaning lower. And yes, you anticipated it by how your eyes instantly closed.

Only if it weren’t for Krystal to clear her throat, obviously ruining the mood. Flinching away from your sensual lover, you rubbed the nape of your neck. Towards an heiress like her, it must’ve been unprofessional.

“Couldn’t you at least wait until I left, younger brother?” Her fingers flicked Jaehyun’s forehead, a teasing trick they used to do as kids. Even if she was a lot shorter now, it didn’t mean the impact was weak. He cursed under his breath, covering his forehead.

Stifling your laughter was a failure, crinkling your eyes to unleash your emotions. So this is what their sibling dynamic was like?

“Now excuse me, older sister. You didn’t tell me you were visiting the exhibit after my birthday dinner with our parents?” He crossed his arms, exchanging a judgmental look. For his sake, he wanted to maintain his pride. “All you said after dinner was that you were going straight home with your fiancé after all the alcohol mother gave you because it made you lightheaded.”

“Well, you know Key and his persuasiveness. He insisted I attend this event last minute because all the collections were amazing.” She explained, shedding a subtle glance at you. “Plus, it’s an excuse to finally meet this lovely girl you raved so much through your letters.”

Jaehyun kept his family life private, so this piece of information was new to you. The unpredicted way the fluttering feeling drew in your stomach, all you could do was smile from the flattery.

“He spoke about me to you?”

“More than speak, my dear. He practically professed his love for you, asking me advice on how to court a girl, make them smile, etcetera. You’re the first girl he’s been this affectionate with, and I completely understand now.” She patted your shoulder, hopeful. She had such a strong older sister vibe, reminding you of your older siblings back home. “You’re a clever, talented woman. I look forward to seeing you more often.”

As you nodded in approval, she turned towards her brother with her recurring teasing look. “Yah, Jaehyun. You better take care of her. If she ever sheds a tear because of you, I’m hunting you down in the gardens.”

“Harsh of you, Krystal.” He planted his hand on his chest, feigning pain. “But no worries. Having you and mother around me kept me well-mannered towards women growing up.”

Playfulness aside, Krystal felt honored towards her younger brother. Men these days maintained their sexist beliefs and rudeness, especially those who doubted her high position in the family business once her father stepped down. Nowadays, it’s men like Jaehyun who could really challenge the patriarchy and make women pursue a lot more than being limited as a housewife.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now please excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”

Krystal waltzed her way out without tripping from her slight intoxication, which Jaehyun worried about earlier. But anyway, that left him alone with you. Filled with so many questions, you didn’t know where to start.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Paris? Why didn’t you acknowledge my birthday wishes to you? Why aren’t you answering my calls and letters?” You blurted without wasting a breath, weren’t trying to come off as needy, but it became peculiar when he was contacting you like usual.

You pushed off thinking of the worst scenarios, not wanting it to ruin your drive and your emotions either. Yet you trusted Jaehyun enough to know he wasn’t the type of person either.

“Okay slow down, ma chérie.” His hands maneuvered for you to stop for a bit. “Ask me one by one and I’ll give you a solid answer for each while we roam around.”

He arrived in Paris last week, which was initially for work. Then his birthday clashing was a coincidence. It would be too lonely to go home and celebrate his special day alone, so he extended. But again, it’s his work that caused his abrupt contact.

When you were too busy delving into the success of recovering your inspiration, he also found his spur to write again too. Day and night, his mind kept him tedious with an endless trail of thoughts and words. Overall, he finalized it then brought the end product to the same publishing house where his books in the past went through.

In fact, he decided to publish them specifically today on his birthday. The only day in his itinerary he planned, where after publishing, he’d hang out with his friends, have dinner with his family then run off to reunite with you.

“I didn’t intend to make you feel like a second choice, so please forgive me for that, ma chérie.”

“All is forgiven, Jaehyun.” You held both his hands, kissing them tenderly out of habit. “I’m overjoyed that you rekindled your creative side again.”

You were so understanding and empathetic, and Jaehyun aimed to act that way too. He learned so much from you as his friend before being his lover. Quickly enough, you’re both back to his portrait in the center. Like a critic, he narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose. Tapping his chin with his finger,

“This man in Poetic Rose, he’s quite dashing.” He commented with conceit, walking closer to it to view it better. “His freckles are on point, his dimples and dazzling eyes too. Why exactly is he described as a Poetic Rose?”

“Well sir,” You stood beside him, imitating his actions. “This man here always spoke so eloquently, like he had a very poetic approach on life. He reminded me also of a rose by his rosy tinted cheeks and his beauty. He was alluring inside and out.”

“Is he your favorite muse?”

“I never quoted him as a muse because he’s more than that. Muses can be replaced once they no longer serve purpose towards the artist. Though with him, he’s the never-ending flame that I want to keep for the rest of time."

You held on to his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. The apparent reddening of his ears proved that he was flustered, yet you spoke no lies.

“Joyeux anniversaire, ma flamme.” (Happy birthday, my flame.)

“Merci beaucoup, ma chérie.” (Thank you, my darling.)

Something about his new release piqued your attention so you brought it up again.

“So tell me about your new book.”

“Let me show you instead.” Inside the blazer, there was an inner pocket that sealed a small hardbound book. Taking it out, he handed it over to you. “This is your copy.”

The cover of the book had an illustration of two young adults running down the fields under the bright sun, with the title written in cursive and placed in the center.

“L’Été de 1957.” (The Summer of 1957.)

Like a child who received a new gift in the mail, you flipped the book open. Seeing the table of contents and credits to other important people involved in the process, there was a detailed dedication right before the starting chapter. It’s an unexpected page, noticing that he never put anything like this in his last works.

“Pour ma chérie, qui a peint les couleurs manquantes de ma vie.” (For my darling, who painted the missing colors of my life.)

Although Jaehyun planned to write about the couples he met in the countryside, he chose to change his perspective. Instead, he based this new book on your summer romance, installing more original characters who made your romance blossom more.

“I was once so engaged in listening to people’s love stories, hung up on what they felt.” He expounded, pacing around the floor whilst you skimmed through the pages. There were black and white photos from your adventures too to wrap the reader further in the story.

“While I was struggling to find the next story, I realized late that my story with you was a perfect choice. When I fell in love with you, it’s like I didn’t have to fret anymore about anything. Everything slowly yet surely aligned into place for me. Like how we found inspiration in each other.”

A poetic speaker meant having a poetic, wise mind. You kept an open mind whenever Jaehyun shared his thoughts on life with you, an intimate time that didn’t require using your bodies. Whether you were stargazing or drinking wine by his patio, his soulful personality never changed.

“So I recapped every single memory we had and compiled them,” He resumed, taking a closer step towards yours. His warm hands grasped your waist again, catching a glimpse of your astonished face. Mostly, towards your lips that he missed feeling against his.

“This book expressed my own take on love this time, the one I want to grow in.”

You’d care less if you dropped the book and your coat right there, your major desire to kiss him again was driving your senses to the edge of a cliff. Nothing could’ve braced yourself the second you fervently collided your lips with his. It didn’t feel like you were in this exhibit, but somewhere back in his mansion engulfed in each other’s presence.

Your legs almost melted by your daring move, if it weren’t for Jaehyun’s arm moving upwards to your back to stabilize you more. Your body tingled with goosebumps due to his relaxing fingers all over your body. His tongue caved in your lips, and you couldn’t ban its access.

Such an explicit sight, it felt forbidden as you were inches away from the public crowd. Yet it was the least of your worries if they made a big fuss over it. Jaehyun was here again with you, and that was more valuable to you. He savored every trace of your touches, taking his delicate time with you. No past birthday could defeat this, especially when it’s the first one to celebrate with you. The first of many.

As much you wanted to keep this up for hours, your lungs started feeling constricted of air so your lips timidly let go. Though your hands couldn’t, your overwhelmed eyes couldn’t shift away from the heart-stopping view of your lover. Wherein even after such a fearless session, his eyes fused with love and need with his plumper lips.

“Everything about Provence, especially you, that’s the life I want.” You confessed this concealed secret that’s revolved your head for a while now. Yet its certainty was true.

“Are you sure, ma chérie? What about work?” As an artist, he believed you should stay where everything is accessible. Yet as his woman, he wanted you to follow your heart. Jaehyun didn’t want you to choose or struggle.

“I’ve grown out from the idea that the city life was the only life meant of an artist like me.” You replied, confident enough to discuss it after deep thought. “Cities like Paris hold exciting, vigorous flames that will have you clinging on to them. But then, they’ll eventually die the longer you stay. You get burned in the process too. However, I stand by what I said earlier. I found an endless flame when I met and began loving you, Jaehyun. It doesn’t sting at all; it illuminates strongly every living day.”

Urging him to lower his stance with your fingers, you stated one last phrase. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”

“If that’s the case,” Jaehyun acknowledged, sticking his arm out for you. “Let’s get out of here.”

Astounded expressions crowded the socialites in the event as they watched the both of you exit together. If the news of Krystal and Donghyun weren’t crazy enough, some journalists figured the mysterious man behind The Poetic Rose and spread it like wildfire.

How was the youngest son of the Jeong family turned renowned romance novel author connected to the impressive, up-and-coming painter from London?

What really went down in Provence?

“How can you miss out on the signs? Did you not see them share a kiss earlier?” Key protested to those who weren’t approving whatever relationship you guys had. He loved his tea but hated those who simply were money hungry. Wanting a chance to be a part of the rich family, only to fish them out of their riches sooner or later.

Meanwhile, the winter season didn’t stop any of you from roaming the streets of Paris. Moments like these were a preview of the future you’ve envisioned with Jaehyun. Youthful, free, and fiery, a love between two artists created more magic not just in their crafts but to those around them.

Promenading a street overlooking the Seine River, Jaehyun took out a smaller instant camera from his pocket and took a candid shot of you. Stunned, you slapped his chest with your bag.

“Hey! Just how many more things are hidden in your blazer?”

“Just my wallet and a few condoms. Why’d you ask?” He raised a suggestive brow, feigning good intentions.

You hummed, faking your deep thought mindset. “At this rate, I don’t think we’ll make it back to my apartment alive.”

Jaehyun tugged you by your coat, his lips hovering your ear to whisper. “If we call a cab right now, I can finger you in the backseat.”

You chuckled at his vulgar idea, but it seemed ideal. You loved the thrill of getting caught or having someone overhearing you two, just like him. Besides, his fingers don’t match up to yours when you touch yourself alone in your apartment. You bat your eyelashes, giving in.

“Deal.”

6 ans plus tard (1964)

Summer returned, the sun strongly smiling down to the plentiful flowers at your family garden. By the patio of your home, your canvas was already laid by the easel stand. Shades of yellow were applied first to symbolize the brightness of the day, following the outline of your desired scenery for this piece.

Dipping the brush in water to change colors, you took another glance at the breezy sky. Light blue with clouds resembling soft pillows, you inhaled gently as your brush faintly stroked the canvas again.

Your hair was tied in a bun, meaning that you’re in for a busy session. But a more soothing one as the jazz music flowed from the vinyl player inside. Stress was the last thing you needed right now.

“What’s madame artiste up to right now?” Your husband piped in from behind, placing down a tray of tea and crackers. With some top buttons of his white top left unattended, you glimpsed on his toned chest when he leaned down. But you mustn’t pry whilst working, even when temptation was calling your name repeatedly.

“The summer sunshine healed me of my discomfort, so I think it’s about time I painted again.” You chewed on the snack, looking back and forth to the view. As enchanting as all the flowers you and him planted over the years grew, you’re more amused by a little boy strolling around it with his magnifying glass and tiny wooden basket with his furry puppy by his side.

His tiny legs often troubled the two of you because he enjoyed spending time with nature. Only God knows what he found in the garden this time.

“Adrien est explorer encore. Devrais-je lui dire qu’il change de place, ma chérie?” (Adrien is exploring again. Should I tell him to change places, my darling?) Jaehyun cautiously asked, not wanting his 3 year old son to impair your perspective.

“Non,” (No,) You held on to his hand, kissing it sweetly. Although you peeved any unnecessary details found in your scenery in the past, Adrien was an exception. As his mother, it’s hard to say no to him unless necessary.

“Il est un garçon curieux, alors il devrait explorer et flâner où il veut.” (He’s a curious boy, so he should explore and wander wherever he wants.)

Life ever since you returned to the countryside shifted into something more precious than you imagined. From moving places constantly, you found a home to settle in for good. A home with overflowing love and inspiration. A home within Jeong Jaehyun.

Recently, you halted your work-related activities in Paris and came home because you were heavily homesick. It even affected your health as a whole. So you made adjustments with your schedules, postponing appearances to events to next year.

On the plus side, you could be more active as a mother to Adrien. It felt like you burdened Jaehyun to take care of Adrien most of the time because he mainly worked from home, wherein important people who wanted to meet him would have to fly out to the countryside.

Back and forth to Paris, your presence towards Adrien often lacked. Here came your biggest fear, which was Adrien forgetting you. But Jaehyun told you over and over again that it wasn’t the case. As he listened to every wrenching thought you had, but he’d combat it with heartfelt words of reassurance so you wouldn’t overanalyze things.

He vowed to love and take care of you when times get hard, and he will continue doing so.

Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?

It no longer did after getting married.

It gave more room to grow and breathe more life into it. When Adrien was born, he was the prime reflection of your and Jaehyun’s love. He mirrored his father’s physical traits but with a daring personality like yours. A perfect mixture, the world worked amazingly to bring a boy like him into your life.

“Maman! Papa!” Adrien bolted to where you and Jaehyun stood. From the clothes he wore, it’s very much clear that his father was in charge of it whilst you slept in the entire morning. Suspenders, capri shorts, a white shirt, and a red beret, he deserved his title as Jaehyun’s mini-me.

Jaehyun swelled with pride and love for his only son, peeking over what he brought to show and tell you both. “Oh Adrien, what do you have for us today?”

In his basket, there were 3 sunflowers stuck out from the edge. It’s been a while since you’ve seen some in full bloom, lowering your stance to get a more vivid view. He took them out to hand them to you and your husband.

One flower for Jaehyun and two for you. You let out a gasp, scrunching your brows to the center. He always gave one of each item to you and Jaehyun, never more or less.

“Ooh, deux fleurs pour Maman. Pourquoi, Rien?” (Ooh, two flowers for Mama. Why, Rien?) Jaehyun let his nickname out for his lips while you grasped his small hand.

“Well, I heard from Olivier next door that on his birthday, he gave extra flowers to his mother so he could have another sibling. And it worked!” He spoke so innocently, yet it hitched a choke from Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes widened from disbelief. The information he collected due to his curiosity, no boundaries truly.

“Le mois prochain, c’est mon anniversaire. Je me demandais si je peux avoir un frère ou sœur comme Olivier? Tu es toujours occupée, comme Papa. Je ne veux plus être seul, alors je veux une amie aussi.” (It’s my birthday next month, and I was wondering if I can have a sibling like Olivier? You are always busy, like Papa. I don’t want to be alone anymore, so I want a friend too.)

You exchanged looks with Jaehyun, not knowing how exactly to respond. Although you and Jaehyun did agree that you wanted more than one child when you were younger, neither of you brought it up again since your careers were always loaded with plans.

Adrien was a surprise child actually, conceived on the night where you and Jaehyun celebrated after L’Été de 1957 was announced to be the best-selling romance novel of the decade in the country.

In Paris at his family home, where his parents brought out all their prized liquor, the two of you drank the entire night away to the point Krystal and Donghyun had to push you away from each other from your public affections because their children were present.

But it didn’t stop you two once you reached his bedroom, far away from everything and everyone. And you’ll never change it.

“Oh, Rien,” You eased in, consoling him. “Je suis désolé. Mais c’est franchement une grande demande, n'est-ce pas?” (I am sorry. But that’s quite a big request, right?)

“Mom and I will think about it first, okay? Another kid is a big responsibility, and you’ll be their older brother. That’s another important job, can you do it well?”

“Yes, I can, Papa!” He beamed with glee, his covered head patted by his father after. As you placed the sunflowers beside your palette, Adrien then proceeded to ask you if he could paint with you like old times.

Never you refuse especially with his sparkling round eyes and chubby face that makes you want to squish every time.

As you lifted his light body to sit on your lap, you placed your brush between his stubby fingers and carefully aimed in whatever angle seemed fit so the painting process would run smoothly and perfectly. He let out sounds of amazement when the strokes get bigger, jumping slightly too because the picture became more vivid. You’d smile and coo at him, commending whenever he followed instructions well. As his mother, you only encouraged your child in whatever they want to excel in.

Adrien was the child of two artists, so it was only natural that he had an artistic side in his veins.

Too caught up in your fun, hearing the automatic shutter of the camera from your side was delayed. The source was none other than Jaehyun hiding behind his camera. Jaehyun’s heart soared at the heavenly view of the most important people in his life, wanting to treasure the moment as a lovely memory.

“Hey!” You shouted, placing down the messy brush by the palette. “Je suis très laid!” (I am very ugly!)

“Shh! Tu est rayonnant, ma chérie. Papa est juste, Rien?” (Shh! You are glowing, my darling. Papa is right, Rien?)

Jaehyun politely quizzed the peppy boy, nodding excitedly. His dimples deeply showed up, the main trait he claimed from his father.

“Oui, papa! Maman est toujours belle!” (Yes, papa! Mama is always beautiful!)

He exclaimed, pecking your cheek numerously. You squealed, attacking him with tickles and kisses back. His shouts of delight, then he was suddenly carried by your tall husband in the air like he was flying in the sky. Adrien enjoyed that motion highly, ending up on Jaehyun’s shoulders shortly after to play by the garden again.

“Go paint. I’ll take care of him now.” Jaehyun persuaded, roaming through the long rows of flowers in full bloom. Though seconds after adding some strokes to your piece, you let down your hair, put a hat and sandals on, and ran to the cute duo to join them.

And that’s how your family spent the entire afternoon. By the garden, running around and taking photos and short videos from Jaehyun’s camera. Freezing these valuable memories, this was truly the life you loved so much.

After your break, you could convince the company you worked at that you’d prefer fewer trips to Paris and stay in the countryside longer. How badly you’ve wanted to hold your exhibits here instead. Plus like Jaehyun, let influential people visit you. You’ve already made a big name for yourself now, so that should be valid enough.

Dinner time passed by quickly too, eventually putting Adrien to a smooth slumber as you massaged the roots of his soft hair while Jaehyun sang him a lullaby. This was your joint parenting technique with him since he was a newborn, and it worked quickly as lightning.

You redressed into your silk nightgown after bringing your canvas to the master bedroom, opening the balcony doors to invite the cool breeze in. You tweaked some bits of your painting, including a silhouette of your small family. Regarding where to place it, probably by the living room as it matched the theme.

“What a spectacular day, don’t you think, ma chérie?” Jaehyun conversed, admiring the calm movements of your brush. He noticed a quirky smile grace your lips.

“It’s been a long time since we had quality time like that with Rien. He’s a feisty ball of energy these days.” You replied with a nostalgic daze. “It’s so crazy how one day, he was still crawling to us. Now, he could outrun the both of us.”

“Comme le temps passe vite, hmm?” (How time flies fast, hmm?) Nodding, nothing braced for what your husband had in mind. You almost dropped your brush mid-way. Jaehyun’s lips impatiently devoured your neck, his huge hands fondling your breasts. Violently throwing your head back against his chest, a needy moan parted your lips.

“Jae-” His touches reaching south to where you desired him highly, dampening hastily as your legs naturally spread apart. Rushed exhales, “À quoi tu penses maintenant?” (What are you thinking about right now?)

“Rien se sent seul,” (Rien feels alone,) His hot breath whispered against your ear, his fingers dangerously trailing your thin panties up and down. With your hands tightly clutching on his bicep,

“Alors, donnons-lui une amie.” (We should give him a friend.)

Ever since Adrien mentioned such a daring topic, it hasn’t left Jaehyun’s mind the whole day. After seeing you in utter bliss with your son earlier, he found you so majestic and radiant. It’s a different kind of happiness, especially for parents.

Now you went on hiatus, he thought that it was the right time to have another. He enjoyed his younger years with Krystal, and he wanted Adrien to experience it too. 3 years was quite a wait, and it seemed ideal to try again.

From his nude chest, you flipped around to intensely clash his lips with yours. Draping your arms behind his neck, Jaehyun lifted your entire figure from the chair. His hands gripping on your butt, he delicately lowered you down your bed.

Drowning into his sensual kisses with his hands all over you, this could prolong for hours. Reddening love marks started to resurface whilst your fingers tugged on the drawstring of his pajama pants. Jaehyun’s fingers dove under the fabric of your panties, his index finger rubbing figure 8s the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You struggled to swallow your moans, not wanting Rien to hear it. You wouldn’t want to repeat history, covering it as Jaehyun massaging you after a hard day.

“I know you want one too, ma chérie.” His fingers began to drape down the straps of your gown, presenting your breasts in its full, perky view. But before his lips could suck on your erect nipples, you parted momentarily from him and got up on your feet. Pulling up your straps again, Jaehyun simply laid down but he wasn’t pleased from how you left him hanging.

“Où vas-tu, ma chérie?” (Where are you going, sweetheart?)

He was growing impatient. You were never to interrupt such a sexy atmosphere ever.

From one of your drawers in your vanity table, an important, half-opened envelope was hidden. You were supposed to give it tomorrow but now seemed like a perfect time. Reading it as soon one of the maids handed it to you gave you the jitters, but in a positive way. Sitting back down on the edge of your bed, you exhilaratingly passed it to your husband.

“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” (What is this?)

“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)

Jaehyun slowly opened the edges and once he took out the contents. Reading it thoroughly, he couldn’t believe it as his jaw dropped, pacing from the letter and you back and forth.

“Vraiment, ma chérie?” (Really, my darling?)

It was from a doctor you visited in Paris a few days before you left, who confirmed just exactly what caused your health to go feeble suddenly. You already had one certain suspicion, which you addressed in your leave of absence letter. Amelié, who finally got the position as the head, couldn’t believe her ears and insisted you take all the time off you needed.

“On dirait que Adrien a reçu son cadeau d'anniversaire en avance.” (It looks like Adrien received his birthday gift early.)

Overall, it turned out the headaches and repeated vomiting you mistook as motion sickness from traveling was a surprise hello to your second child.

A girl specifically, thanks to the blood test she recommended.

“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

“Montre moi combien tu m’aimes, Jaehyun.” (Show me how much you love me, Jaehyun.)

The whole night through, the two of you vigorously celebrated with the moonlight from the windows and a few scented candles set in the room. Wet kisses left on your collarbone, words of devotion exchanged, holding his hand as he groaned from heartily thrusting in you, the number of moans from your lips overlapped with the vinyl playing in the room. The intimacy between you two increased, almost as if you made love for the first time again all those years ago.

Excluding being drenched from the rain.

Once the two of you grew tired, Jaehyun lied down beside you. Wrapping one arm around, one hand trailed down your naked skin again. His wedding band flashed your eyes, reminding you of the commitment you promised each other. For better, and for worse.

Jaehyun promised to love you endlessly as a woman and his wife, and it didn’t cease when you became the mother of his children. He respected how strong you are, physically and mentally. He helped you in any way he could as you endured the struggling process.

At the end of the day, his family was his biggest priority. More than ever now, you needed him as you go through the pregnancy phases again. Specifically, his index finger lingered on your stomach. There was no bump or other signs of showing, except for that glow he complimented you earlier on.

“We met and fell in love over the summer, got married in summer, had Adrien mid-summer, and now found out about our daughter at the start of summer.” He smiled, blessed at all the good he’s received during this time.

“The summer gods must adore us.” Your vacant hand with your wedding band topped his. To love and to cherish. “Ils m'ont amené à toi.” (They brought me to you.)

His power on you was simply addicting, as if your early twenties revisited you. You straddled himself once again, your fingers caressing his face sweetly. When it reached his lips, he placed longing kisses there and pulled you closer again for another kiss on your lips. In between, you mumbled in a silvery tone,

“Then they led us to say I do. Pour toujours et à jamais.”

copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.

[iyeonjuni]

bad hair day // chapter 9: starstruck

a/n: before you start reading this..this is only proofread like once . and that i have NEVER posted a written thing so .. please keep that in mind i tried😔 oh my god im nervous lets go.

word count: 830

prev / masterlist / next

-

“oh shit- i’m late.” y/n mumbles to themself as they grab onto the hat that was begging to fall off their head. y/n pushes the cafe door, followed by the bell ringing, alarming the staff and is welcomed by the barista behind the counter. y/n gives them a smile before scanning around the cafe.

looking around, y/n aims to see a blue haired boy but only to be met with a not blue- but black haired yeonjun who had just finished ordering his cup of coffee right in front of them.

“wow, black hair suits him too...wait a minute- BLACK?!” y/n thought to themself, eyes burning at the back of yeonjun's head.

snapping out of their thoughts, y/n taps on yeonjun's shoulder lightly, “h-hi yeonjun! sorry i’m late, i'm y/n...your song producer?”

yeonjun turns around, and as expected he looks perfect- gorgeous even. standing tall in his fitted slacks paired with his blue button up, his new hairstyle accentuating his sharp features even more. y/n didn't even notice yeonjun's eyes squinting at them as he looked straight at y/n's face as if he has seen them somewhere. his eyes slowly widening as he suddenly pointed at y/n, his other hand covering his mouth, “you’re the one who was glaring at me!”

their admiration interrupted, y/n blinks twice and tilts their head in confusion, “i-i’m sorry?”

“at the assembly! it’s you!” yeonjun laughs at y/n’s expression as he extends his arm towards y/n, “i apologize, i’m yeonjun it’s really nice to finally meet you, as i said before taehyun and hueningkai told me a lot about you.”

suddenly y/n remembers, staring intently at what was yeonjun’s bright yellow hair a few weeks back, fascinated at how he could even dare to get such a color and how it could look so good on him. y/n didn't expect yeonjun to notice their staring back then, the thought made their ears heat up.

“i-it’s very nice to meet you yeonjun.” y/n stutters but returns the handshake.

"oh god. this is so embarrassing." y/n thought.

-

“so what kind of song are you going for?” y/n brings out their laptop and notebook from their backpack.

“hm...i was thinking something uplifting! maybe a disco, pop, rock...anything that could bring up the crowd!” yeonjun suggested as he leaned over to see what notes y/n was writing.

“okay, i see where you’re heading...so maybe a disco dance track? i think i may have a suitable song i made a while back. but it still needs refining.” y/n scrolls through their files trying to find the track they previously made.

yeonjun nods at their response and suddenly finds himself evading his focus from y/n's notebook to their face, slowly studying their facial features and the way y/n’s brows furrowed in concentration, lips pouting as they tapped away on their mousepad, trying to find the file they were looking for. yeonjun couldn’t help but smile, and voice his thoughts.

“cute.” yeonjun pursed his lips, eyeing y/n to see if they could hear him.

unfortunately, too focused on the task at hand y/n couldn’t catch what he just said.

-

“thank you so much y/n really for helping me out!” yeonjun holds the door for y/n as they exit the cafe.

its been a few hours since they met. y/n expected a lot of embarrassing and awkward exchanges between the two but it turned out a lot smoother than they thought. y/n got to know yeonjun a lot better, like how he came to love dance through his previous dance instructor and how he met his members when they were children.

“it’s no problem, i am really honored to work with TXT. luckily, since i found a song i've written previously i think the song will be done in no time. until then i’ll text you when it’s ready!” y/n turns around behind them, ready to thank yeonjun for holding the door.

“careful!” yeonjun reaches for y/n, his arms hovering around their shoulders just enough to pull them closer, their faces now looking at each other.

y/n's eyes widened at the close proximity, looking everywhere but his eyes.

yeonjun giggles at their reaction and his arms return to his sides, “sorry for that, you were about to bump into someone just now.”

yeonjun couldn’t help but blush a little at their shared moment, hoping the other wouldn’t notice.

“i’ll be waiting for your text message!” he smiles and walks away to avoid being caught, waving his hand behind him.

as yeonjun slowly disappears from y/n’s sight, y/n could slowly feel the heat rising to their cheeks, their heartbeat ringing in their ears as they felt it grow quicker and quicker.

starstruck was the only word that y/n could define what they had just felt.

taglist [open]: @choihaiyun @atinyyylove @247byun @luvrbin @strawberryyukhei @suna-kiyoomisproperty @meowtella @jisungsquirrelhabits @enhacolor @junluvr @skypemonke @fairybinie @txtville @hoshi4k @simpforscoups @jamjam728 @berrychyuu @beomjundiaries @honeybutterchup @wkhdery @ahnneyong @99outros @rinyx @jeonkoookiee @emobeomgyu @bubblejunnies

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

A Siren Song

Pairing: Robert Dubois/ Bloodsport x Reader

A/N: so I just finished watching the new Suicide Squad for the second time and I’m even more obsessed now than I was the first time I watched it. It’s a brilliant film with actually good humor, a non-sexualizing and actually empowering view on Harley Quinn (that leg scene?? y'all-), the rats?? Rat-catcher 2?? THE SHARK?? FLAG?? Who looked really good in this movie, he might be another contender for a story as well as Harley Quinn so lmk ;) but Bloodsport immediately piqued my interest because it’s Idris Elba and he’s gorgeous, I loved the complexities of his character and I want to write for him and no one else has done it yet?? so shoutout to @honey-im-emotional​​ for the support and push to do it! also love The Bodyguard movie, helped with the inspo <3 and i’m so sorry all of my stories are similar but I HAVE A TYPE enjoy and feedback is always appreciated loves and there will be SPOILERS so be warned, also if you want a Harley one next lmk ;) (it’s so long I’m so sorry lol)

Summary: You’re a highly targeted member of the royal family, the last in your line. Bloodsport is hired to be your bodyguard to both watch and assassinate the men after you. He believes it’s below his pay-grade, but reluctantly agrees, doing so to the best of his abilities. But the closeness brings more intimacy than you two expected, and sparks fly.

Warnings: foul language, sexual content, smut, choking, light bdsm, fluffy fluff, dirty dancing, dirty talk, violence and bad guys getting murdered, mentions of Harley x Reader (y’all sexy dance and kiss), reader likes women, dom! Bloodsport, age gap, alcohol consumption, jealousy, heavy kissing, slight angst, just a good time honestly

Word Count: 3,825

You dangle from the ceiling with your aerial silk, fitting your leg in the loop you’ve created, and dangling upside down. The rope wraps around your waist as you hang gracefully from your marble walls, flying. Your friend Harley Quinn taught you how to do this years ago, it now being your favorite form of exercise and relaxation when you need a moment to clear your head. 

As you lightly spin, twirling and dancing in the air with your chandelier reflecting light everywhere, a dazzling fairy floating in a sea of stars. You hear footsteps approach and move to hang upside down, facing towards the grand door. Robert Dubois, a.k.a Bloodsport, walks forward to stand directly in front of you. 

You have known him a few weeks or so now, him having to watch your every move and tracking down your family’s killers. He stands and meets your eyes as you dangle, hair falling below you.

“Hi,” you giggle, face flushed with heat. “I probably look ridiculous right now.”

He composes himself so he doesn’t crack a smile, but you see his lips twitch when he speaks, “No, Mrs. y/l/n.”

“I have a first name, you know,” you grin widely. “I’m younger than you, which hardly warrants such a professional title.”

“My apologies, y/n,” he fixes himself.

“It’s alright,” you ease, filling him with a sense of softness he hasn’t felt in a long time. You flip and land on your feet, letting go of your silks. 

You don’t notice as his eyes glaze over your body in your sports bra and shorts, something his cold, calculated stare should never succumb to, but he does anyway and he kicks himself for doing it. You’re his client and should therefore remain as such, no conflict of interest or thoughts other than to protect. He didn’t want this job, hell, he still doesn’t know why he said yes. Maybe it was the money. Or maybe it was upon seeing you that first time, in that star-studded gown the night of a charity gala you were attending, the way the diamond littered fabric hung over your figure, absolutely dazzled. The way you looked at him and smiled, like you were used to with all the other nobles and adoring fans. But he let himself believe it was different.

He can’t do that anymore, however, because he can’t allow for any complications. And falling for his boss is certainly a complication. 

You look at him and your eyes widen with realization, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me cover up.”

You grab a tee shirt and toss it over your exercise clothes. He looks down as you do so and clears his throat. This brings a small smile to your face.  

“You called me in here,” he gestures to the necklace charm hanging around your neck that you can squeeze and send an instant distress signal whenever you need it. “What can I do for you, y/n?”

“Wanted you to spot me,” you tease, a smile overtaking your delicate features. You have a sort of stunning beauty about you that takes him by surprise every time he lays eyes on you. Which is often. You lay on your yoga mat and sit up straight with that same damned smile. 

“I’m here to do a job, y/n,” he says, his deep, honeyed voice coating the way he says your name like heat to sugar. “Not aid you in your workout routine.”

“What? Your assassin training didn’t include sit ups?” you smile, tongue in cheek.

“No, but if you need a way to kill a man with a book,” he presses a foot over both of yours as you begin to do sit ups. “Then I’m your man.”

“Yeah, you and John Wick,” you breathe out with a laugh. “And shouldn’t you be in here watching me already? Not by the door?”

“This room has no windows and no other door or entrance besides the one I was standing by. I thought you would want privacy,” he averts your gaze. “I’m sure it’s a hard thing to come by these days for a woman like yourself.”

You stop what you’re doing and look up at him, blinking, “Well, you’d be right,” you tuck your hair back. “So thank you.”

He meets your eyes, bordering on a smile, “You’re welcome.”

“Is that a smile I see?” you chuckle.

The smile shines, “It was a diversion. And you failed.”

You laugh loudly, “Will the next diversion be an actual laugh?”

“Wouldn’t be a proper diversion if you knew what it was.”

You tap his feet so he’ll get the hint and let you up. You rise to your feet and dust yourself up, “I appreciate your spotting.” You press a hand to his chest and hum. Warmth radiates from your palm and he inhales sharply. “For someone who wasn’t trained, you sure are a fast learner.”

He looks at your hand and back to your eyes, heat sprouting from where your hand touches. His hand flexes at his side as he looks around the room, to the door, seeing if it’s closed. 

“I-” he cocks an eyebrow then settles. “I think I should go.”

He watches you look at him with wounded eyes, brow lowered, you open your mouth then close it. 

You nod, moving away from him, “Right.”

You move to walk away when he stops you, mouth by your ear, voice dropping an octave when he whispers, “Just so you know-” you tilt your head up almost instinctively to hear him better. “-my assassin training did include reminding people who they are when they’ve forgotten their place.”

You look up at him fully now, “You work for me, remember?”

“I work for money. And you didn’t hire me. I was employed by Mrs. Waller to keep you alive,” he cocks his head slightly. 

“So it would be frowned upon by her when you’re unable to walk if you touch me like that again.”

You couldn’t believe he had just said that. Your eyes widen and your cheeks once again heat up, blushing. Your chest gets hot when he doesn’t break the stare like he’s calling your bluff, and fuck, did he do just that. You turn away from him.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “That’s what I thought.”

~~~

“Robert said that!?” Harley exclaims, eyes wide. Her jaw is dropped as she does her mascara aggressively in the mirror. “He’s usually so...”

You tug down your tiny halter top over your head, your bright, flattering makeup complementing the colorful swirling pattern, “An empty void with no emotion?”

She nods emphatically, agreeing, “Exactly! I had no idea he had it in him?” she raises her brow and smooths down her leather black and red dress, “Or that he wanted to put it in you-”

You slap her arm, chastising, “You don’t know that. It might have been a threat to actually paralyze me in a very not sexual way.”

“I say both are arousing,” she shrugs, platinum curls bouncing.

You roll your eyes with a small smile aimed at the floor, “Anyway-” you slip a belt through your tight jeans, hitting at your waist when you cinch it in. “We should get going if we want to get to the club on time.”

She pauses. “Y/n. Are you sure we should be doing this?”

You do a double take, “You’re telling me that we shouldn’t sneak out and have a good time?”

“I know the irony is apparent,” she looks at you with a knowing stare. “But not if it means you’re in danger. Which you are.”

“I know,” you frown. “But I’ve been locked in this house for months, I miss going out and having a life. I’m tired of being coddled.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she sighs, looking past herself in the mirror to flash me a sympathetic smile. She thinks for a beat and finally spins around, “Alright, screw it, doll, let’s go paint the town.”

You buzz with excitement, grinning, “Yay! Thank you, thank you! I wonder who will be djaying...” you trail off. 

Harley’s face falls and her mouth goes in a solid, straight line, looking past your shoulder, “I don’t think anyone will be.”

You laugh, completely oblivious, “Of course there will be. There has to be music. Dancing in silence would be pretty fucking awkward.”

“This moment is pretty fucking awkward.”

“What do you mean?”

A deep, irritated voice sounds off behind you, “Because you’re not going.”

You jump out of your skin, “Shit, Robert! You scared the hell out of me!”

“You’re not going to that club,” he folds his arms over his chest. You look over him and his casual, night wear: a loose tee and low hanging joggers. You almost wipe your mouth from salivating. Your outfit elicits the same reaction.

You pinch your eyebrows together, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I’m tasked with protecting you.”

“Yeah. And nowhere on your job description does it say ‘become my parent’. There’s not an opening now just because I don’t have one. I am a grown ass woman and I have been a prisoner in my own home. The same home where...” you pause, a lump in your throat at the reminder of your family’s passing. You shake it off, “I’m just tired. I want a piece of my life back. You can either stay here or come. Either way I’m going.”

He gives you a quick once over and contemplates his options before dropping his arms to his sides and letting out a long exhale.

“Fine.”

You somewhat relax at his defeated tone, “Fine, what?”

He relents, “You can go, but I’m coming with you. But if anything happens to you, I’m not to be blamed. I will leave your ass in that club.”

You grin and jump up to give him a tight hug around the neck. He stiffens before slowly rubbing your back. You sink into his embrace, feeling like you were floating in water, now above the surface as he brings you back to oxygen. Harley smiles at the exchange and she winks theatrically. 

He glares. 

It’s not long before you three arrive at the club, music blaring and colorful lights flashing over the crowded floors. From his stare and intimidating aura, the club staff thought he was a bouncer and let you all in immediately. But before he was roped into working, the three of you bee-lined to the bar. 

“The prettiest and strongest drink ya got, sugar,” Harley smiles at the pretty bartender.

“And what if that’s me?” she responds, ebony hair falling onto one shoulder.

“Then I’ll have to drink you later,” Harley gives her a flirty once over and you roll your eyes.

The bartender grins and gestures towards me for my order, I answer quickly, “Scotch on the rocks.”

Robert looks at you, poorly covering his shocked expression. “Really?”

“Yeah, why?” you look up at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a straight liquor type, Ms. y/l/n,” he finally lets his hidden laugh show through, butterflies erupting in your chest. The diversion definitely worked, whatever you were thinking about before this has immediately left you.

“Then this is going to be the first surprise of many tonight, Mr. Dubois,” you return the smug look as he orders the same thing. You both share a look.

The bartender slides you all your drinks, each of you taking a long swig for liquid courage for the night. Harley’s favorite Doja Cat song comes on and she gasps, clapping excitedly when she grabs you by the wrist, pulling you on the dance floor, “Come dance with me.”

You mouth a small ‘sorry’ to Bloodsport who you left at the bar, he shakes his head with a smile over the rim of his glass, watching you guys’ drinks. 

She dances wildly, jumping up and down, spinning to let her hair fall in many beautiful angles. She’s a powerful force and your greatest friend. She puts her arms around your neck and the two of you move in time with the music.

“So...” she motions to Bloodsport who’s being forced into a conversation with a woman at the bar. The woman puts her hand on his and he visibly shrinks back and whispers something to her that causes the most horrid look from the woman and for her to walk quickly away. You smile at the relief that interaction has brought you.

“So what?” you spin her around and pull her back.

“Quit with the good dancing, or I’m gonna fuck you myself,” she teases with a lightheaded giggle.

You smile, “We’ve tried that already, remember?”

“Too much history, I know, I know. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice...” she whispers into your neck, kissing the soft spot under your chin. Your skin heats up under her touch as she drags her hands down your sides, pulling you close to her so that you’re flush against her chest.

You give into her and kiss her slowly, her soft lips melt into your own when her hands tug in your hair. Harley and you have always had a complicated friendship, with enough sexual attraction to fuel a nuclear bomb, but not enough romantic. You love each other but not in the way you both need. You were in love with Robert and she is continuing to explore her sexuality because she likes women and so do you. So as she trails her hot mouth down your neck in the middle of dozens of bustling bodies and you lock eyes with an angry Bloodsport, you knew exactly what she was doing.

You whisper, out of breath, “Are you trying the jealousy trick?”

“It worked in college, didn’t it?” she kisses your cheek, smiling gently against your skin. “And it’s working now.”

“I think you’re just obsessed with kissing me,” you kiss her back.

“It was a win-win situation, doll,” she grins devilishly and you can’t help but agree. “So when you’re done with him, come see me. But right now, I have a sexy bartender lady to drink up.” You grip her hand and let her make her way to her next conquest.

Robert had seen the tail-end of your kiss, his deft fingers clenched around his whiskey glass. He knows he shouldn’t let this sort of thing affect him, something as juvenile and simple as jealousy. But he couldn’t stop that feeling of being stuck, unable to think about anything except the fact that it wasn’t him with his hands on you like that, lips marking you as much as he pleases. Sadness washed over him in a tidal wave and he set his glass down, about to get up to leave when he spotted a man eyeing you from the door. He looked familiar and it wasn’t just attraction he sensed in his eyes but something far more sinister.

A few more men followed suit and began making their way to you in the middle of the dance floor. He had no time to consider the facts, just to get you out of there as soon as possible. 

You feel a rough hand tug your arm and turn to face who you think to be Dubois, you smile, “Enjoy the show?”

“Very much,” an unknown voice answers, and you look up, eyes wide. “Now why don’t you come with me for a little talk, beautiful.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” you yank your arm back, slamming your heel down into the perpetrator’s foot. More men surround you on all sides, making it impossible for you to escape or use your subpar martial arts skills. Aerial yoga was a very different ballpark than kicking ass. And you were just a beginner.

You poorly punch a man in the face, only making them all angrier when you’re grabbed from all sides, being dragged towards the exit kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to be that helpless damsel in distress, but as all of these men, men you recognized from your family’s death, were surrounding you, you couldn’t breathe. Their hands felt familiar, grabbing your arms like they’d done that night before you hid in the secret door in the dining room. You had watched these faceless men through a hole in that door, stifling your cries when bullets sprayed the room your family was having dinner in. So while they were coming after you and pulling you outside, it’s all you felt. That same feeling when he wasn’t near.

Drowning.

There’s a hand that pulls you back and you watch, dazed, as Bloodsport puts every man who touched you on the ground. It’s filled with swift yet aggressive and barbaric movements, controlled, expert chaos and it happens within moments. His chest is heaving when he looks down at you and scoops you up in his arms. You’d object in any other circumstances, but this time, head against his chest and tucked in his arms, you were okay.

His voice rumbles against your side, “We’re going home.”

~~~

Harley’s tears hit your shoulder as you sympathetically pat her back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have left,” she sniffles loudly. “I should’ve been there.”

You laugh softly, fitting your head into her shoulder, “It’s okay, Harls. It’s not your fault, there was no harm done.”

“There could have been,” she sighs. “I’m not letting you convince me to go out next time, you’re staying here forever.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, “Alright.”

She gets up and sniffs, wiping at her nose that’s now flushed from crying, “Good because I’m serious.”

“I know,” you laugh again, hugging yourself in a hoodie much too large for you, (because you stole it from Rick Flagg) swallowing you whole. 

Your eyes wander down the hall to where Robert is no doubt pacing around in your bedroom, the only room not laden with cameras (ironically for privacy). You kick at the floor in your fuzzy socks and think of an excuse to go check on him, even though you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now. You, frankly, don’t care.

“I’m gonna go-” 

“Check on Robert?” she finishes. “I know, honey. I was a psychiatrist, I’m not stupid.”

You crack a smile and grip her arm affectionately as you walk past her towards the bedroom. You don’t even take the risk of knocking for fear he’ll lock it and try your luck with just simply opening it. You see him, shirtless with a towel over his shoulder, a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist, while nursing his knuckles. He looks you over once you enter the room, trained eyes on you and the intimidation is definitely working already when he takes the damp towel on his shoulder and dabs the cuts on his skin.

He remains silent and you move to sit down on your bed, the awkward squeak filling the already high-tension atmosphere, thick enough to make your ears pop like you’re in an airplane too far up in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, drawing his eye. 

He hums and steps into your bathroom, washing off his hands. 

You frown at his lack of response, “Are you really going to pout this whole time? Because honestly, it’s beneath you, Robert.” You lean forward, watching as he walks out of the bathroom, still half naked, still silent. 

The silence is beginning to slowly kill you, especially when he looks this good, water droplets running down his chiseled torso from a hot shower. You didn’t let your mind wander because if the reaction your body is giving from the image before you was any indication, you want him. He walks in the room once again, mouth in an amused yet firm line. 

In actuality, he was ashamed of himself. Not so much of you. He would’ve left as that despair overcame him back in that bar. He would’ve left you there and abandoned his mission, leaving you to be hurt. If it hadn't been for those men, you could’ve been killed and it would be his fault. He alerted Waller of the attack, making up a lie about the two of you going for a walk at night and getting ambushed there rather than at a club. There’s a hit on each of those men being taken out as we speak as well as a search for their boss. Even though that still got him chewed out. He couldn’t imagine what she’d do to him if she found out the truth.

Robert walks slowly towards you, leaning against the bed frame, gesturing for you to continue. You watch him, distracted, as he wraps a bandage around his knuckles.

“I shouldn’t have kissed her to get a rise out of you, that was hurtful,” you exhale your words, quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t within a breath of one another. You hang your head, “And it was stupid to go out in the first place when I am in this much danger. I could’ve been killed, and you could have been hurt. I’m sorry.”

He represses a laugh at the idea of him getting hurt, when the two of you both know that would never happen. But as the silence from him grows thicker, the more you start to ramble.

“Okay, this silent treatment isn’t going to work for much longer. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to stop.”

He gives you a look that says ‘make me’. But you both know you couldn’t if you tried, and vice versa. He thinks of you as a siren, one of those alluring creatures in old sailor tales that lured unsuspecting men to their painful deaths. As if he has no control of the way he feels about you. Which in a way he does, but he knows better. He knows better than to fall under your enchanting song, but he can’t help but be pulled beneath the surface of the water. 

Robert tenses when you move forward and the hoodie falls off one of your shoulders, revealing more of your chest, the smooth skin that lays there. 

His chest tightens when you look up at him and sigh.

“But thank you for saving me,” you say, both because you think that’s what he wants to hear but also because you mean it, you wouldn’t be here at all if he didn’t come with you.

He licks his lips and nods his head in simple recognition. He appreciated the apology, truly he did, but a part of him enjoyed the way you continued to ramble on, so he remained silent. This was an old interrogation tactic he learned when he served, keeping quiet always got people talking. He looks down at you and leans to meet your face, hands on either side of you. 

“I don’t know what else you wish for me to say,” you admit quietly, fiddling with your hands.

He didn’t know either but whatever you would say, he would listen.

“So I take it you’re not mad anymore?” you infer from his relaxed posture, heart beating out of your chest, fast enough that it catapults to your throat. 

He tilts his head down so he’s an inch before your mouth, breath fanning over your face. when he tugs you up to your feet, hands gripping the sides of your waist when he pulls you close. Your heartbeats began to sync up, chest to chest.

“I’m fucking furious, sweetheart.”

You meet his eyes, looking up in that seductive stare of yours you never knew you were capable of until him, and close the distance, kissing him lightly. His arms falter by your side and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate, losing his cool. It’s the most gentle thing he’s ever experienced, everything in his life being forced, hostile, and malicious, while your soft lips against his are anything but. You kiss him like he’s not the monster he thinks himself to be. 

“Then let me make it up to you.”

“Fuck,” he grips your sides harder, palm moving to push you closer with his hand flat against the small of your back. “We shouldn’t.”

You search his face for uncertainty, but all you sense is a profound sense of clarity, in the both of you. “I know.”

“Will you regret this?”

You shake your head, hand against his cheek, “No.”

His dark eyes fall to your lips, pupils filling his dark brown irises, lust blown, “You’re so good, baby. You’re too good for me.”

Before you can tease him about the new nickname and object to that, his lips have crashed against your own. His hand slides up to cup the side of your face, drinking you in with his intoxicating kiss. You hum, content, against his feverish mouth and he opens it, vulnerable and on display. You feel his guard still up, tense and calculated, so you rest your hand against his chest. You press a kiss to his eyelid, his cheek, his nose, his chin, his jaw, his neck. He softens beneath you, groaning aloud as his hands tighten. 

“You don’t need to be afraid with me,” you whisper to him, tender fingers trailing down his shirtless chest, hot skin against hot skin. It’s enough to make you sweat.

He exhales and captures your bottom lip with his own, holding your face in both of his hands. The kiss grows heated and rushed, like you’re running out of time, as if at any moment those men would come back and find you and take you away from him again. His tongue expertly works with your own, licking the pout of your bottom lip, and coaxing you open. He slides his hand down between your legs, dipping his finger to find the slick in the middle of your thighs. You moan into his mouth, his other hand at the back of your neck when he buries his face in your shoulder. He kisses you there, the crook where your neck meets your collarbone, that damned sensitive spot. You succumb to his touch. His beard tickles your skin and you gasp when he sucks hard, a bruise forming.

You breathe a laugh, “Everyone will see if you leave a mark,” you tug on his hair when you thread it through his coarse curls. 

He falls under your spell and there’s something so ironically beautiful about this trained assassin with a heart of gold and the scars to show for it, being so open with you.

His hands, his entire life, have been forced to be instruments of death and violence. But as they slide down your figure, holding your face, and pulling you into him, they’re his greatest gift. He’s surprisingly tender with you. 

But then he has enough and pushes you down on the bed, arms trapping you on both sides.

He responds bluntly, “I don’t care.”

You part your legs for him and he releases a shaky breath. He slowly unzips your sweatshirt and it falls off you just as you do the same and tug his towel down. Both of you are bare before the other as you take a moment to drink each other in. You were just as, if not more, beautiful than he imagined you to be. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly as his hand drapes down the line of your figure. He touches you how someone would handle a glass vase filled with flowers. 

You take his face in both of your hands and kiss him, “So are you.” 

“I don’t think you know what you do to me, baby.” His hand finds your breast and squeezes while he kisses your neck.

You moan when he uses his other hand to grip your neck, thumb against your pulse point, “If it’s anything like how I feel right now, then yes, I do.”

He lifts his head up to watch your face as he chokes you, softly so he doesn’t hurt you but hard enough to play with your breath. His thumb opens your mouth and your legs tremble. 

“So I take it you’re into choking, my love?” You nod excitedly, unable to speak, and his grip tightens. 

You let out a squeak and he releases, face etched with worry, kissing your neck where he touched you. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.” 

You shake your head and smile comfortingly, “No, baby, I’m okay. I’ll tap out if it’s too rough, I promise,” you tease.

His grumbling voice deepens, “Good... because, darling, right now all I want to do is bury my face in between those gorgeous thighs of yours.”

You inhale sharply when he opens your legs once again, looking up at you and you nod in consent.

“I need words, beautiful,” he smirks with his mouth just above your center. 

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and he responds with a swift lick to your pussy. He looks up at you and when he catches your eye, it’s as if the sensation grows stronger and your head hits your pillow.

“I’ve barely even touched you,” he mumbles into you and you feel his smug smile in your thigh. His fingers dip into you as he flattens his tongue and crooks them towards himself, you grip your sheets.

“Don’t... flatter yourself,” you sigh out. “I-it’s just been awhile.”

He removes his mouth and fingers from you, “So anyone can make you feel like this?”

You enjoy the feeling you get when he looks at you like that, his eyes dark and dominant, so you play along and nod. “Yes, in fact, I’ve had better.”

He licks his lips and gets up from the bed. He opens his drawer and you sit up to look what he grabs: a belt. Your heart beats excitedly in your chest even though you know you shouldn’t be. He gets back on the bed and climbs over you.

Robert looks at you, “Hands.”

You extend them to him wordlessly, watching as he ties your wrists together and puts them over the bedpost so you’re trapped there, unable to move.

“Now,” he holds himself above you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re to stay tied up until I say so, anything like that again and they get tighter. Nod if you understand me.”

You nod emphatically. You had never seen this side of Robert before, so in control and not afraid to go too far, it was so unbelievably sexy. 

The best part was he didn’t tie it tight enough, afraid of hurting you, so you could easily slip out your hands at any moment.

He kisses, painfully slow, down your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple. He swirls his tongue around the erect bud and you gasp, desperate to touch him. He looks up at you from you chest as he switches to the other, massaging the unattended one as he sucks, the pleasurable feeling overwhelming you. So much so you have to clench your thighs together, longing for some sort of relief for the tension building in your abdomen.

“Baby, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him.

He shuts you up with a bruising kiss while his hand slips down to enter you, two fingers in already. He pumps them in and out of you before sliding back down the expanses of your body and letting his mouth latch onto your clit. He sucks hard and you stifle a loud moan that would surely alert everyone in the home of your arousal. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. His tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. But just before you feel that euphoric release, his actions cease and you’re left hot and flustered. 

“Robert,” you look at him with a deep frown.

He grins, “Y/n...”

You blow hair out of your eyes, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He puts his lips near your ear, “Are you ready?” You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder. 

You finally have enough, slip your hands out, and he pinches his brow, unable to hide his shock before you bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places. He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He was right, it’s the best you’ve ever had. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. Your hair is in messy tendrils at all angles and you’ve never been more attractive.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises in your ear, placing kisses across your jaw. “Taking my cock so well.”

You whimper and his movements stiffen as he approaches release and so do you, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, it continues on, leaving you aching and wanting more.

He rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Everything you both have wanted for a long time, laying right in front of you.

“Still want to make me not walk?” you tease, looking up at him.

He kisses your eyelids and you giggle, “Fuck yes.”

Part 2?

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Aim For The Heart Chapter 4: New and Old

Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, drama, angst

WC: 3.5k im sorry she’s short :(

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, jk is a lying sh*t, a knife is mentioned but not used, alcohol consumption

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @sugaslittlekookies @jaebeomsblackgf @moon-asia  @yoonchrisgullwrites @armyhollander

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Previous → Next

"What made you want to be a teacher?" Jungkook asks as the two of you stroll over to a trashcan to throw away your trash. 

"I've j-just always loved working with k-kids," You say with a bright smile. "I guess I th-thought why not teach? Y-You know?" You look up at him and he nods.

You turn to look around you, then you get distracted and point to an ice cream stand, "Ohh, I'll b-buy us some ice cream."

Jungkook shrugs, "Sure." 

You do your little run over to the stand and Jungkook finds himself biting back a laugh. He catches himself though, why the hell are you laughing? She's trying to throw you off track. 

Jungkook hurries over when you wave to him.

Keep your head on straight, Jungkook.

"W-What kind would you like, J-Jungkook?" You ask sweetly, watching him with big eyes. 

Jungkook clears his throat and glances at the menu, "Uh, I'll take a scoop of mint chocolate chip." 

You walk up to the man at the stand, he smiles when he recognizes the girl that always stops by his stand for a scoop of ice cream. 

"Hello!" You say cheerfully and the man bows, "Hello again, missy! What can I get for you today?"

"Mm, c-can I please get one s-scoop of-" You turn back to Jungkook, "You sure y-you only want o-one scoop?" 

Jungkook nods and smiles, but again, the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

You turn back and finish your order, "One s-scoop of mint chocolate ch-chip and two scoops of p-plain chocolate please."

The kind man nods and makes your order quickly, then you hand him your card. After he swipes it, he hands it back to you along with your two ice creams.

Before you can grab them though, Jungkook's arms wrap around from behind you and he snags them.

You feel your heartbeat increase and try to control your breathing. Jungkook is unaffected as he simply smiles at you and hands you your chocolate ice cream when you turn around. 

"Thank you," Jungkook says before taking a big bite. 

You smile, hoping your cheeks aren't as red as they feel, "Y-You're welcome."

You two continue on your walk, both of you eating your ice cream and making small conversation, then you take Jungkook by surprise when you suddenly speak up with a mouthful of ice cream and a very random question. 

"Do you w-want to have kids in the f-future?" You ask casually as if that isn't an intrusive question at all. 

Jungkook swallows the bite he had in his mouth, "Uh, I haven't really thought about it much. But, probably not."

"Why n-not?" You ask, very curious. 

Jungkook clears his throat awkwardly, "I don't know...I just-... I don't think I'm cut out to have kids."

Why the hell is he having this conversation with one of his targets?

If a few weeks ago he could see himself now, he'd disown his own self.

"I think y-you would make a g-great father." You say in a matter-of-fact tone, "I just h-have a feeling."

"Uh, thanks." Jungkook takes another bite of ice cream, he needs to get the attention off of himself and quick. "What about you?" He asks stupidly. 

"Oh, I want to h-have lots of k-kids." You say with a dreamy smile on your face, "I can't wait to be a m-mother."

Your words turn his stomach to rot as it twists inside of him. He looks down at his melting chocolate chip ice cream, a feeling he doesn't understand swirling inside him. He stares intently at the green blob in his cup, trying not to put too much thought into what you said. 

"D-Did I say something wrong?" You ask quietly when you realize how silent he's become. He looks at you and notices that you have chocolate around your mouth from your cold treat. 

Jungkook just shakes his head, "No, it isn't you." He mumbles as he looks away. 

You both finish your ice cream in silence as you walk down the path through the park. 

After you take your last bite, you walk over and toss your cup into a trashcan, Jungkook right behind you. 

"Now what should we do?" Jungkook asks you, trying to forget about the previous conversation. 

"Mm," You put your hand to your chin, your eyes squinting in thought, "Do y-you like to p-play games?"

Jungkook nods, "Yeah, sure."

"Ok!" Then you take off running, making Jungkook jog to keep up with you. Once you make it to the arcade you had gone to last week, you stop and turn to smile at Jungkook. 

"D-Does this look fun t-to you?" You ask hopefully. 

Jungkook nods again, then he moves to go inside. You follow him, but he doesn't hold the door open for you, so you have to catch it before it hits you. 

When you go in, you see Jungkook standing there waiting for you. "W-What do you want to p-play?" You ask awkwardly. This outing had started off good, but now you're starting to feel out of place around him and you don't like that feeling. 

Jungkook fakes a smile and shrugs, "I don't care."

"Um, o-ok." You look around the arcade before picking a game and heading over to it. You grab the little puck on the air hockey table and gesture for Jungkook to go to the other side. He moves over and gets into position. 

You hit the puck and he hits it back, immediately dodging your block as the puck slides right into the goal on your side. You huff out a breath in annoyance and glance up to see Jungkook smirking. 

Ok, it's on boy.

Then you smack the puck suddenly, catching Jungkook off guard as it hits the side of the air hockey table and skims past him before he can catch it. When it goes into the goal on his side, you see him look up at you in shock and you send him a smirk of your own.

"That was lucky," He scoffs. 

You nod innocently, "Oh y-yeah, probably."

Jungkook takes the puck and sets it on the table, faking a move before hitting it the other way. You block it effortlessly, sending it straight back to his side as he grunts in frustration. 

You two go at it for a few minutes, Jungkook hitting the puck furiously and you calmly blocking and sending it back. Eventually, Jungkook sighs and hangs his head when you've blocked his recent moves more than five times in a row.

You're tied on points and now neither of you are getting anywhere.

"W-Want to call it?" You ask, sensing his frustration. 

Jungkook purses his lips, his competitive nature wanting to do nothing but annihilate you in this blasted game. But alas, you're apparently a lot better at this game than he had anticipated. 

So, he sighs again and nods, "Yeah, let's call it a tie."

You walk around the table and stick your hand out to him. Jungkook hesitates, then he takes your hand. 

"T-Tie." You say while smiling, shaking his hand up and down. 

Jungkook grimaces, then pulls his hand back, "Ok, now what?"

"I picked th-the first game. N-Now, you have to p-pick." You say with a sneaky smile. 

Jungkook looks around the arcade, then he points to a game with two fake guns sitting in front of a large screen. "How about that one?"

You don't really like those types of games, but it's Jungkook's turn to pick and if that's what he wants to do, then you'll just go along with it. 

So, you nod and follow him over to it. 

Jungkook smiles to himself as he grabs one of the guns, there's no way she's gonna beat me at this one.

He looks over and sees you grab the other gun cautiously, it looks huge in your hands compared to him holding one. 

Jungkook bites back another less than kind laugh seeing the look of uncertainty on your face. "Ready?" He asks casually. 

You nod and heft the gun up, trying your best to keep it steady. 

The game starts and there's instantly a bunch of zombies on the screen. You aim and shoot as best you can, but you're barely hitting anything. 

But right next to you, Jungkook single-handedly takes out more than half the crowd in less than a minute. You manage to hit a few zombies before the game ends. At least you think you did.

KILL COUNT: 2

The words flash across your side of the screen in bold red letters. You look over at Jungkook's screen and gasp at the letters flashing on his side. 

KILL COUNT: 43

"Wow, y-you're really good at th-this game." You say in astonishment. 

Jungkook shrugs cockily, "That wasn't my best."

You nod absentmindedly, then you point at a claw machine in the middle of the arcade. "Oh, l-look!" You jump up and down in excitement. 

Jungkook sighs when you rush over to the pink claw machine full of stuffies and candy. You pay his annoyance no mind as you immediately start getting your money out to try and get the kitten stuffie.

"Look at it J-Jungkook, it's s-so cute!" You turn to him with a pout and the biggest puppy dog eyes he's ever seen. 

He tears his eyes away to look at the kitten stuffie sitting there, "Sorry to burst your bubble, but you're not gonna get that."

Your pout deepens, "R-Really?"

"Yeah, not in a million years." 

"Why n-not?" You huff, looking more and more like a disappointed child. 

Jungkook scoffs, "Those machines are designed to steal your money. You're not meant to have even a chance at getting the prize you want."

"Oh," You look crestfallen as you stare at the little kitten that seems to be looking back at you, pleading you to get it out of that stuffy old box and bring it home with you, "That's m-mean."

"That's just the way the world works," Jungkook says simply, hoping you'll give up and pick a different game, "Everything is about money."

"Not e-everything." You counter, finally peeling your eyes away from the little toy to look at him. 

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow but you continue anyway, "Not everyone d-does stuff for m-money. Some p-people care about other's f-feelings."

He laughs in disbelief, "If that's the way you see the world, you're in for a nasty surprise as you meet more people and see the real world." 

"If you always l-look at the world the way y-you do, you won't be v-very happy." You say back, then you turn on your heel and go off on a search for more games. 

Jungkook watches you in surprise, he didn't think you'd actually stand up for yourself and clap back with something like that. 

Huh.

Jungkook squints at you, the plan going through his head again before he hurries to catch up. 

_______________

"T-Today was fun. Th-Thank you, Jungkook."

You're standing at your front door, having just unlocked it. 

Jungkook nods, his lips pressed together before he says hesitantly, "We should hang out again sometime." 

You smile and nod, "I'd l-like that."

"Well, goodnight," Jungkook says quickly before turning and hurrying down the stairs. You watch him disappear behind the corner before turning and going inside. 

You set your bag down and yawn, stretching your arms above your head. You stretch a little more before moving to your room to get dressed for bed. Pulling out one of your nightgowns, you make quick work of changing into it. Then you go to the bathroom to do your nighttime routine. 

By the time you're climbing into bed, your eyelids feel like they're being weighed down by a ton of bricks. 

You pull the covers up to your chin, cuddling into the warmth of your comforter. The giant octopus stuffie next to you is quickly pulled into your side as you wrap your legs around it and squeeze it tightly. 

"Mm, goodnight." You whisper to it before you slip into a deep slumber.

______________

Jungkook drags himself up the stairs to his apartment, his feet killing him. The target dragged him around half the city and the entire arcade today, and he's gonna have to do it all over again until he can earn her full trust. 

Never again will he underestimate the simplicity of a target. 

She might be the dumbest person he's ever met, but she sure is a handful when it comes to trying to finish his job. 

Jungkook pulls out his keys, fumbling with them for a second before he realizes something is off. He looks closer at the door lock and sees a few scratches on it. 

The fuck?

Jungkook quietly pulls out a little knife he keeps in his back pocket at all times when carrying a gun around isn't the smartest decision. 

Then as gently as he can, he puts his keys in the lock, turning it as slowly as he can. 

When he pushes the door open slowly, it creaks. 

The light from the hallway floods into his studio apartment, showing how truly dark it is inside. Not a single light is on. 

He always leaves his kitchen light on when he goes out. 

Jungkook stands up to his full height as he opens the door the rest of the way. He steps inside, then everything that happens next happens in a matter of seconds. 

An arm comes from behind him and wraps around his neck. 

Jungkook grabs the forearm of the intruder and lifts himself before bringing himself back down and flipping them over his shoulder. A loud thump sounds as the assailant hits his floor with a pained grunt. 

Jungkook leaps on them and wrestles the man to the ground again before straddling his chest. Jungkook pins one of the man's arms with one of his feet and the other he grips tightly in his hand. 

"Who sent you?" Jungkook growls. 

His small knife is pressed to the neck of the person whose chest is now starting to shake. Jungkook can't see his face in the dark but he can tell he's definitely laughing. 

"Shit, boy," The man groans, "You've gotten a hell of a lot stronger."

Jungkook's breath releases at the sound of a familiar voice. He leans back, releasing the young man's arms but still sitting atop his chest. 

"Fucking hell, Taehyung."

"Hello to you too, kid."

Jungkook rolls his eyes at that but doesn't move. 

Taehyung pushes at Jungkook roughly, "You've also gotten heavier. Get the fuck off my chest, asshole. The fuck are you doing anyway? Trying to seduce me?"

Jungkook laughs but finally gets off of the man lying on the floor in pain. 

"You wish," He retorts as he moves to flip the kitchen light on, making Taehyung squint and hiss in annoyance. 

"Fuck off, fatass," Taehyung growls, making Jungkook laugh again. 

Jungkook walks over and offers the older boy his hand, but the other just smacks it away and proceeds to get off the floor on his own. 

Jungkook shuts the front door and locks it, "You still suck at picking locks." 

Taehyung rolls his eyes, "Yeah, I'm a little rusty, whatever."

Moving to the fridge, Jungkook opens it to pull out a bottle of soju, then he gestures for Taehyung to take a seat on the couch. 

The older boy listens begrudgingly. 

"What are you doing here anyway, Tae?" Jungkook asks as he opens the bottle and hands it to his friend. 

"I have a hit around here," Tae says simply, "Knew you'd let me stay a few days." 

Taehyung is always on the go. He's never in one place for long, so he tends to stay with people he knows when he gets a hit that'll take a little longer than usual. 

Jungkook knows this, so he isn't surprised. 

"Yeah, whatever. Next time just ask me, don't break into my home, dumbass." Jungkook says before snagging the bottle and taking a long swig. After he swallows he continues, "I almost killed you." 

Tae snatches the bottle back, "You're no match for me, little shit. I let you win." 

Jungkook snorts but lets it go. Honestly, he could be right. 

Among all of the hitmen he's ever met, young and old, new and experienced, Kim Taehyung is by far the best.

He gets hundreds of hits every year. 

Jungkook is glad he's on his good side. He'd hate to be on the other side of whatever weapon Tae decides to use at that time. 

"So, who's your hit?" He asks his older friend curiously. 

Tae takes another drink, hissing as the liquid warms his throat and stomach.  

"Mr. Chen." 

He smirks at the look of shock on the younger's face. 

"Why you so surprised, kid?" Tae asks, tapping Jungkook's nose with his finger. Jungkook flinches back in irritation making him laugh, "You shocked you weren't hired to kill him yourself?"

Jungkook shakes his head, "No, stupid. Just surprised the bastard is still alive. I thought he would've been a hit a long time ago."

Tae nods, "Piece of shit deserves to be twenty feet under, that's for damn sure. I'm glad I get to be the one to do it." 

Jungkook takes the bottle from Tae for another sip. 

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Jungkook sets the bottle of soju on the coffee table and stands up, groaning. 

"Ok, well your ass is sleeping on the couch. You get in my bed while I'm sleeping like the pervert you are, I'll kill you." He points at Taehyung threateningly. 

Tae just chuckles and man spreads on the sofa, "Sure thing, JK."

"I'm taking a shower, you're welcome to take one after me. Ramen is in the kitchen, make yourself some food." 

"Wow, JK. You're a wonderful host, I should've come here sooner." Tae smiles cockily and Jungkook scoffs before moving to the bathroom to get washed up. 

Half an hour later, Jungkook comes out, one towel wrapped around his waist as he dries his hair with another one.

Tae is sitting at the dining table eating a cup of ramen noisily. He glances up and sees Jungkook, then he swallows and whistles lowly at him. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, "Shut the hell up. Do you want to stay here or not?"

"Hell yeah, I do."

"Then stop being a fucking pervert." 

Tae finishes his last bite then stands up raising his hands in defense as he makes his way to the bathroom, "It's called a joke, sweetheart. I'm straight as a pencil, I swear." 

Jungkook whips the towel he was drying his hair off with at Tae, smacking him in the thigh and making him yelp as he runs to the bathroom.  

After a little while, Tae comes out dressed in the pair of sweats Jungkook left for him there. His hair is damp as he shakes his head like a wet dog, sending water droplets flying. He looks over to see Jungkook lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

Taehyung walks over to the couch and notices Jungkook put a pillow and an extra blanket there for him. He smiles and glances at Jungkook, "Aww, you shouldn't have, sweetie."

"Another word and I'll take 'em back," Jungkook mutters. 

The older boy just laughs and gets comfortable on the couch before Jungkook turns out the light by his bed. The silence in the dark room is deafening. 

Then Jungkook hears Tae speak up from across the room. 

"What you so grumpy for, JK?"

"I'm not grumpy."

"Is it your new hit?"

Jungkook sits up in bed and stares where he knows the couch is, "How did you know I had a new hit?" 

"I saw the folder earlier. It must be bad since you tore up the picture of the target." Tae muses. 

Jungkook lays back down, "The whole thing is just a fucking mess, Tae."

"How so?"

"My target acts like a kid-"

"A kid?"

"Yeah. I think there's something up with her. She's a dumbass and doesn't have a single sense of self-preservation."

"Shouldn't that make your job easier?" Tae asks, making Jungkook sigh. 

"That's the thing, I just don't understand why she's a tar-"

Rustling from the couch makes Jungkook pause. 

"Wait, are you questioning your hit?" Tae asks in disbelief. 

"No," Jungkook flips over onto his side, "No, I'm not. I just need it to be over with."

He hears Taehyung sigh from the couch and he stares into the dark, something stirring in him at Tae's next words. 

"Remember why you started this, JK. Don't question anything. It isn't our job to judge why someone sets a hit, but it is our job to get it done."

"I know." Jungkook snaps.

"Ok." 

Taehyung's right. 

He just needs to remember why he started this whole thing in the first place.

______________________________

a/n: sorry its late and short. hope you liked it tho :)

[fanfic-she-wrote]

Imagine being the reincarnation of Dracula's long lost love: Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

A couple hours later, the flames eventually died out, leaving the castle practically in ruins. You still hadn't moved and Dracula was beginning to lose hope that you would never move again. He picked you up and carried your limp body in his arms as he walked back to the castle. So much of it was burnt and fallen apart. There was a large gaping hole in the cieling where you could see into the sky above. Dracula noticed that it was nearly dawn. He just hoped that the dungeons were still in tact as they made their ways towards them with Henry and Van Helsing clearing the way, pushing aside the charred debris.

At this moment Dracula felt numb. His castle was a heap of burnt rubble and the love of his life was possibly dead forever. Luckily for him when he reached the dungeons it was untouched, not even by the mob. At least that was a good sign. He thought. But not much of one. In a room just off the staircase lay his coffin, it black with plush red lining, and inscribed on the top was his family crest. Henry lifted the lid and Dracula placed you gently inside.

"What do we do now?" Van Helsing asked.

"We wait." Dracula replied, looking down at your lifeless body.

He felt anger once again boiling over inside him. He clutched his fists so tight that his knuckles turned white and his nails cut into his palms.

The tension was so thick in the room you could cut it with a knife. The longer Dracula waited, the more he became angry. Angry that his love had been taken away from him again. Angry that no matter how much he wanted it, he would never find peace not from angry townsfolk, not from Van Helsing, and not even from himself.

Van Helsing watched him carefully, sensing his anger. This anger was different than before. For the first time, he actually felt a little frightened. Dracula could tear him apart like paper if he wanted to. It felt like waiting for a bomb to explode.

Finally it did and like a viper he grabbed Van Helsing by his collar, lifting him a couple inches off the ground. "This is all your fault!! " He growled.

"My fault?! I'm not a monster that goes around killing innocent townsfolk am I?! " Van Helsing choked, trying to pry himself lose, but to no avail.

"Get out before I kill you were you stand!" He hissed, releasing him.

"No, Im staying." Van Helsing refused, fixing his shirt. Dracula stepped toward him, baring his teeth, aiming to kill.

"If she wakes and finds me dead, she will never forgive you. You don't want to risk that do you?" He pointed out, trying to appear calmer than he felt.

Dracula hesitated for a moment. Why did she value his friendship so much? He wondered.

"If she wakes up I will let you go. If not, you better pray for a quick death." Dracula threatened, glaring at him.

"Master, where will you sleep?" Henry asked, changing the conversation.

"I can't sleep. Not now. I'll be fine as long as the sunlight can't find me." He answered.

Dracula bent down beside you and held your hand. It was so cold now. Only a couple hours ago it was warm and soft. It was almost hard to believe it had only been a couple hours, it felt much longer to him.

Henry yawned, unable to stay awake for another second. He took off his coat folding it into a makeshift pillow and rested his head on it against the cold floor. He missed his bed, but that went up in the fire. Stupid townspeople. He thought to himself as he fell asleep.

Van Helsing didn't sleep either, although he wanted to. He couldn't even remember the last time he actually had a good night's sleep. His thoughts kept him up most nights, mostly about creatures of the night, but sometimes his thoughts were of you. Like how cute you were when you crinkled your nose when you were thinking or how you used to laugh when he did something you deemed silly...the little things that made him fall in love with you. If only he had told you how he felt...at least you would have known. He forced tears back, but it was becoming extremely difficult as the hours passed and you didn't wake.

"I love her too you know." Van Helsing confessed.

"What?" Dracula sneered, glaring at him from over his shoulder, but Lawrence paid him no mind.

"Yes...for a long time. I never told her." He said his voice cracking.

"You're a fool!" Dracula scoffed. Van Helsing nodded in agreement.

"I suppose I am. Maybe if I had this never would have happened." He said with a sigh.

Dracula spun around to face him. "What do you mean by that?!" He snarled. Van Helsing got up off the floor where he sat and came face to face with him, staring into his cold, dark eyes.

"I think you know what I mean. If I told her than maybe she would be with me instead of being dead because she fell in love with you!" He accused, finally losing his temper.

"How dare you!" Dracula angrily spat, smacking Van Helsing hard into a wall. "She could never love someone like you!" Van Helsing rubbed his head, feeling dazed. "You're pathetic! Weak! A miserable excuse for a mortal!"

"Am I? I'm not the one that has to hide from the sun or cower in fear of the cross." Lawrence retorted, lifting himself back on his feet. He looked at you and took a deep breath, knowing that you wouldn't have wanted them to fight.

"So much blood has been spilled, Dracula. Haven't you had enough?" He asked, trying to reason with him.

"No. Not till I have spilled yours." He hissed.

"Then I guess we are destined to do this forever." Van Helsing sighed.

"Forever is short in the life of a vampire. But you will never see it. " He swore through gritted teeth.

"I don't want to see forever. I'm tired. I've seen enough death and despair to last several lifetimes. I will eventually die, but there are things that are worse than death." Van Helsing admitted. Dracula's face softened a little as he mulled over his enemy's words in his mind.

"Get. Out." Dracula said, turning away. He didn't want to admit it, but Van Helsing was right. Living forever did feel like a curse. There were many times he wondered what it was like to be really dead. It must be glorious...

"I would like to stay a little while longer..." Van Helsing started to ask, taking a small step toward Dracula.

"Don't push it Dr. Van Helsing. I'm letting you go alive. Don't make me change my mind." Dracula warned.

"May I have one last look at her then?" He asked. Dracula nodded stepping aside. Van Helsing slowly walked up to the coffin and reached inside to touch your hand. It was still cold as ice.

He felt tears well up in his eyes again. "I'm sorry Y/N...for everything. If only it were me in that coffin instead of you. You of all people on this Earth didn't deserve this." He whimpered before placing gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Goodbye."

As you lay there, you tried to call out to them to tell them that you weren't dead, but you couldnt. It felt like there was an invisible force controlling you, preventing you from moving at all. You couldn't even breathe, it was almost like you were drowning and your lungs were being filled to the brim with water. Everything hurt. Wherever you were it was pitch black. You were frightened. If only Vlad or Lawrence could help you, even Henry. You didn't even know why you were here...oh right you're dead. Is this what it was like to be dead?

From the darkness, a small voice said, "Go back."

"We must go back." It implored you, sounding desperate.

"We? Who is we?" You ask. Suddenly, a bright light appeared blinding you. Squinting, you could make out a strange, blurry figure and faint whispering could be heard emanating from within the light. As you looked closer, it became clearer and you realized who it was. It was Dracula. You tried calling out to him once more, but he couldn't hear you. His appearance was different. He looked younger and was significantly less pale. He had longer hair that fell to his shoulders, even his clothes were different. You saw behind him the castle the way it once was, like in your vision. Your heart skipped a beat when he turned to look at you, as though he just noticed you were there. Then you finally felt yourself move, but you weren't in control. It was like you were a puppet being pulled around on strings.

Dracula reached for you, pulling you into his warm embrace, which you gladly welcomed. "My dear Maria, how I've missed you." He said, kissing your cheek. Maria? Who's Maria? You wondered, feeling a twinge of jealousy.

"I've only been gone a few hours Vlad." You said to him.

"But to me it feels like an eternity." He told you, kissing you again. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Without warning, the light flashed again and you found yourself in a church. You did not recognize this place, yet it seemed to familar. Before you stood Vlad and behind him was...Lawrence? No it couldn't be?! It certainly looked like him. The face was the same, but the hair was different. It was only slightly shorter than Dracula's and he was sporting a goatee. He didn't look as happy as your beloved. In fact, he looked extremely bored. Was this a wedding?

You slowly walked up the isle towards them, feeling all eyes on you. You didn't even know who any of these people were. All you knew is that you wanted to get out of there. You glanced up at Vlad and saw how much love glimmered in his eyes and you felt your nerves instantly calm. The room just seemed to fade away and only he mattered. He held out his hand for you, helping you up the last remaining steps.

"You ready, my dear?" He whispered.

"Of course. I can't wait to start my new life with you. " You happily answered.

"As am I."

Then the scene disappeared again much to your disappointment, this time to something a little less happy...this time you found yourself in a duel against Van Helsing. At first you weren't sure if it was a friendly duel, but quickly realized that it very much wasn't. This was a duel that could only have one victor.

"It should have been me on the thrown! All of this should have been mine!" Van Helsing yelled, smashing his sword into yours with a loud clang that rung throughout the great hall. You parried and sent him flying backward with a hard kick.

"The thrown! The castle! You..." He lunged at you once more, but you blocked it and counter attacked. He twisted your blade around his and pulled you close, your faces inches apart.

"You could never have me." You spat, pulling away.

"You wouldn't have had a choice." He retorted with a sickening grin. You could feel the anger building up inside you. With a swift flick of your sword you slashed him in the face, leaving a deep cut in his cheek. He chuckled. You were a fiesty one. Too fiesty for your own good, he thought.

"That's the difference between you and Vlad," You began. "He doesn't tell me what to do."  And with that you swung at him once more, this time breaking his sword in two. You held your sword to his neck.

You caught a glimpse of your reflection in the blade. That's when it dawned on you. You were Maria, Dracula's wife, and you remembered him telling you that you looked like her. It all made sense now. This is why you were having these visions. They are your own memories. Could it be that you and Maria are one in the same?

"Surrender traitor." You hissed, your blade mere inches away from his throat.

"I am no traitor." Van Helsing said.

"Fine then, a coward."

He rolled his eyes."At least I fight my own battles. Where's your beloved now?" He pointed out, looking smug.

"Fixing your mistake. Don't think I don't know what you've done. Vlad might trust you, but I sure as hell don't." You stated, inching your blade closer to his neck.

"And what will he say when he finds out that you've killed me?"

"The truth. He has no reason to doubt me." You answered confidently.

"Well, we'll find out sooner than you think." Confused you followed his eyes over to where Dracula now stood.

"What is this?!" He asked looking at the both of you.

"Vlad, he is a traitor. I caught him giving information to the Turks. He is league with the enemy." You explained. While you were distracted, Van Helsing quickly pulled a small dagger from within his sleeve and slammed it deep into your stomach. You dropped your sword falling to the floor alongside it writhing in pain. Dracula's heart stopped. It felt like time had slowed down as he ran to you and held you in his arms.

"Maria, no..." He let out a small cry, running his hand over your wound.

"I had to do something...I love you Vlad. I told you the day I married you that I would do anything for you." You told him, cupping his cheek.

"Then don't leave me...I can't live without you." He whimpered, sensing the end was coming for you.

"We will meet again, my love." You promised, sealing it with a quick kiss as the life faded from your body.

You could feel everything fading away again as you returned to the darkness. You mind was dizzy from everything you had just witnessed. It all felt so strange...

"Go back." The voice repeated again.

"He needs you. Go back!"

Suddenly, you felt whatever was holding you back had finally released you. Eager to get out of there you ran through the darkness hoping to find a way out. You didn't know where you were running, but you had to try. The darkness seemed endless and just as you were about to give up, the ground gave way below your feet and you finally woke up.

You gasped for air feeling as though you were drowning. You sat up clutching your throat, trying to catch your breath. Why was it so hard to breathe?

"Y/N?! Dracula gasped. He couldn't believe it. You were alive. It worked! It wasn't too late after all!

"Y/N! You're alright! Thank God." Van Helsing sighed in relief, smiling like he never smiled before.

"You!?" You exclaimed, backing away from him, your past memory still fresh in your mind. He looked at you feeling confused and hurt. Before Van Helsing could say anything, Dracula appeared at his side reaching out to you.

You looked over at him, eyes wide. "Vlad...I...I remember." You breathed.

"What?" He asked. "What do you remember?

"Everything."

[rizlowwritessortof]

Meant To Be - Chapter 3

Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start.

Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor

Word Count: 2038

Warnings: None.

Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics​ 

Jordan rolled over and shut off her alarm, yawning and stretching. The last few days had been a whirlwind, but she was starting to get used to waking up in her new surroundings. Donna’s apartment was bright and sunny, pretty much like the woman herself. She had welcomed Jordan with open arms, literally, and immediately installed her in the second bedroom, down the hall from Donna’s room.

After taking a week to settle in, at Sam’s insistence, she was ready to start her new job at Winchester Law. Sam was picking her up in a couple of hours to get her acquainted with the office and do all the annoying paperwork involved, so she climbed out of bed and headed for the shower. As she got ready to step in, she remembered that her tiny sample shampoo had run out the morning before, and she sighed, grabbing a towel to wrap around herself as she headed out to look for her new roomie.

She walked into the living room as she called out,  “Hey, Donna, do you have any shampoo I could borr…” The front door swung open as she was in mid-sentence, and Dean walked in, stopping dead in his tracks as he saw her. “Oh…shit.” Jordan clutched the towel around herself a little tighter, blushing to the roots of her hair. “Dean. Hi. I’m so embarrassed right now.”

Dean, however, looked incredibly pleased with himself, a slow grin spreading across his face, his eyes full of mischief. “Don’t be embarrassed on my account. I’m good.”

“Dean Winchester!” Donna’s voice scolded as she rushed by Jordan and directly over to her partner, turning him around and shoving him to the door. “What are you doing in here?”

Dean turned his head, a confused scowl on his face as he was forced into the hall. “What?! I always come in when I pick you up… coffee...”

“Go back to the car and wait for me, I’ll bring your coffee. You can’t just walk in here now, I’m not the only one who lives here, Dean. For Pete’s sake!”

“Sorry! For fuck’s sake, stop shoving me!” He turned around to grin at Jordan again. “It was really nice to see you, Jordan,” he said with a wink as Donna slammed the door closed in his face. They could hear his laughter as he headed down the hall, and in spite of her embarrassment, Jordan couldn’t smother a little smile.

“That man! I’m so sorry,” Donna apologized. “He has always just let himself in and got his coffee here, but I’m always up, dressed and ready to go before he gets here and it’s just a habit. I didn’t even think about it.”

Jordan shook her head. “Not your fault, I shouldn’t be wandering around in a towel. I just forgot my little bottle of shampoo ran out yesterday. Can I borrow some until I can get to the store?”

“Oh, honey, help yourself to anything you need from my shower! When I get home tonight, we’ll make a run to the store, get you stocked up.” She put a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry – are you okay?”

Jordan smiled, her cheeks still flushed pink. “I’m fine. I’ll just probably never hear the end of this.”

Donna nodded, her dimples showing, a sparkle in her eyes. “Oh, yeah, count on it. He’ll never let this one go. Well, I’d better get going. I’ll see you tonight.”

Dean shoved his desk drawer closed a little harder than necessary, and his partner shot him a look, shaking her head. “What? I hate desk duty.”

“Oh, I know. Which is why you have such a pile of paperwork there. Why don’t you just settle in and do it, get caught up while we’re stuck in here.”

He glared at Donna, then at the pile of papers on the corner of his desk. “Hate paperwork,” he muttered under his breath as he grabbed a handful of unfinished reports and opened his laptop.

“Just think how good it’ll feel to get all of that work finished and out of your hair.” Donna smiled, unfazed by the baleful look Dean shot her way.

“Leave it to me to get Miss Mary Sunshine as my partner,” he grumbled, and Donna’s smile grew wider.

“You’re welcome,” she grinned back at him, then went to work on her own stack.

Jordan jumped as a knock echoed through the apartment, rushing to the door and peering through the peephole. “Sam! Oh, Sam, you didn’t have to come up here and get me! I thought you’d just text me or something.”

Sam smiled, his dimples winking as he stepped inside. “I thought I could at least come up the first time I picked you up. Didn’t want to just sit outside and blow the horn.” Jordan laughed, grabbing her jacket from the couch.

“Ok, I guess I’m ready. I wasn’t sure how to dress...” She had debated for an hour, finally putting on a pair of dress slacks and a blouse, and she looked up at Sam for his approval.

“You could honestly wear whatever you want, I usually wear jeans. Whatever makes you comfortable, it doesn’t matter to me. In fact, a lot of the time you can probably just work from home if you want, after we get the office organized again. It’s kind of a disaster right now, sorry.”

“We’ll get it all sorted out, no worries. Once you fill me in on your filing system and how you want things done, I’ll get it taken care of.” She smiled up at him, ever amazed at how tall the man was. “Well, boss, we’re losing daylight.”

“Great. I hired a slave driver,” he teased, and they made their way out of the apartment together.

Jordan flopped onto the sofa with a satisfied smile, letting her head drop back as she let her mind wander over her day. There really was a lot of organizing to do in Sam’s office, due to his lack of help for the last few weeks, but she had made a pretty good dent. After this week, she could probably work out of the apartment most days, maybe go in one day a week to do filing and such. Sam was such an easy-going guy, he was going to be a dream to work for. And his fiance, Sarah, was so nice – she had stopped in during the day, and they hit it off right away.

Her phone rang and she grabbed it, smiling as she saw Dean’s name. “Hope that new boss of yours isn’t too much of an asshole,” he teased.

“Oh, he’s terrible! Even meaner than his brother.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, I hear he’s a real jerk.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect,” she giggled in reply. “So what’s up, Detective Winchester?”

“Donna and I wondered if you’d be interested in going out for a couple of beers, maybe some pub food? Then we can stop off at the store so you can pick up what you need.”

“That sounds great – what time?”

“We’ll be there in about – 45 or so? If you can be ready by then.”

“No problem, I’ll be waiting, just give me a yell and I’ll come down.”

“Awesome. See you later.”

She sighed happily as she laid her phone back down, letting her eyes close for a moment. Dean’s face was right there, his eyes shining as he smiled at her, and she silently scolded herself. He wasn’t interested in her like that, and she needed to get a grip on her feelings before they carried her away. He was just a friend, and daydreaming about him wasn’t going to get her anywhere. “Slow your roll, Jordan,” she told herself firmly, then got up and went to her room to change.

Dean drove to Dooley’s Pub, the normal watering hole he and Donna frequented. It was a cop-friendly bar, the owner was a retired police sergeant, and he called out a greeting to them as they walked in. The three of them grabbed a table, ordered a round of beers and started chatting about their day, munching pretzels from the bowl the waitress had dropped off. “So, how was it working for my brother?” Dean asked, and Jordan smiled.

“He’s going to be an awesome boss. I think we’re gonna get along great. How was desk duty today?”

Dean rolled his eyes, and Donna laughed. “You should have heard him whining all day, you’d think they made him clean the toilets or somethin’.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” he fired back, and his partner shook her head, then looked at Jordan.

“He was like an overgrown three-year-old, Jordan. Don’t let him fool ya. He can pout with the best of ‘em.”

Jordan grinned. “Awwww… it’s only for two weeks.”

Dean huffed out a frustrated sigh. “Two weeks is gonna drive me insane.”

“Short trip,” Donna quipped, and the girls laughed again, Dean failing to completely smother the smile teasing at the corners of his mouth.

“All right, all right – just for that, I’m gonna kick your ass at darts.”

“Oooh, I’ll play the winner – or the loser. Whatever,” Jordan offered, and they moved over near the dart board.

Dean easily beat Donna, and she punched him in the shoulder as she moved back to the table. “Go get ‘im, Jordan. Somebody needs to wipe that cocky smile off his face,” she teased.

“Yeah, that’s probably not gonna happen, but… I’ll do what I can,” Jordan answered, taking the darts from Dean’s hand.

“After you,” he offered with a sweep of his hand, and Jordan stepped up, taking aim. The first dart hit the floor, and he laughed as she swore under her breath. The second barely hung on to the board, finally falling out as her third buried itself in the wall beside the dart board.

“Epic fail.” She shook her head with disgust, and Dean went to retrieve her darts.

“Okay, let’s call that practice. Here…” He reached towards her, then stopped, looking into her eyes. “Is it okay if I...”

“Yes, please, help,” she laughed. He laid his darts on the table and turned towards her, and her breath caught in her chest as he gripped her hips in his hands, turning her slightly to adjust her stance.

“Now, when you throw, you should kind of snap your wrist to give it a little more speed.” He made adjustments to her arm and her grip on the dart, and she was beginning to wonder if she’d have the presence of mind to throw the damn thing when he was finished touching her. “Okay, give it a try.”

She glanced up at him and nodded, then focused her eyes on the board. The first two landed in halfway decent spots, and the third buried itself right next to the bullseye. She cheered and turned to throw her arms around his neck in an excited hug, then backed away, blushing. “Sorry, I just never thought I’d get it!”

Donna was grinning as she watched them. “You got it, girl! A little practice and you’ll be kicking his ass!”

They played their game, Dean winning, of course, and Jordan finished the last of her beer before heading to the bathroom. “I suppose, if we’re stopping at the store, we should take off. We all have to work tomorrow. But first – the little girls’ room.” She plopped her glass back on the table and took off, and Dean sat down, finishing the Coke he had switched to since he was driving.

“So…” Donna said, a knowing smirk on her face.

“So… what?” Dean’s confused frown made her giggle.

“I saw you. You’ve got a thing for her.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Look, I was just helping her with...”

“Save it, partner. You are falling for her, and she’s definitely into you, so what the hell are you waiting for?”

Dean dropped his head and glared at her from under his frowning brow, the dimples above his mouth deepening. “Shut up.”

Donna laughed softly, complying with his request for the time being since Jordan was headed back their way. “All right, you two – let’s hit the road.”

Chapter 4

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression - Ep 36 The banning of snacks and sweet drinks displays from next to cash registers.

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru with this week's episode of The Freedom of Expression. Joe san, Tasai san, welcome. Ok, today lets get straight on with it. Joe  could you please...

J: Yes, lets have a look at this news. Snack and sweet drinks displays next to cash registers banned in Berkeley, California, USA. In the university city of Berkeley, northern California, a law has been passed this week banning the sale of junk food next to cash registers in supermarkets. According to local media, this is the first of its kind in America. The law, unanimously voted for by Berkeley City council, targets cheap, unhealthy products next to cash registers which 'encourage impulse buying, and burden parents of children who want them', with the aim of promoting  healthy lifestyles. Products with over 5g of added sugar or 250mg of added sodium, and drinks containg a lot of sugar or artificial sweetners have been banned from sale next to cash registers. The ban will come into effect from next March. In the city of 120,000 people it will be imposed in 25 large scale supermarkets. The progressive city Berkeley, on the outskirts of San Francisco has been taking health initiatives before now. In 2014 they imposed a tax on soft drinks, and according to a survey from last year, consumption of soft drinks had halved by 2017.

K: Its true though, the cash registers over there have so many snacks near them.

J: They do, don't they?! They are really colourful. But banning it by law is really stepping in, isn't it?

T: Yeah.

J: The supermarkets aren't stopping it through self-restraint, its been forbidden by law, so if they do it will they be penalised?

T: Yeah, wow.

J: I think this is a warning that in America this kind of health damage caused by excessive additives and sugar in food is becoming a serious problem.

K: Yeah, people just end up picking it up.

J: When im waiting in line at the supermarket, its the same in Japan...in the convenience store in Japan, I wait till the last moment and always end up picking up those little Tirol chocolate squares.

K: Oh yeh, they have those out, don't they?

J: They do! Don't those chocolates just call out  to you at the last minute? I always end up buying a few.

T: I  buy 'Bikkuriman'. For the sticker.

J: Oh yeh. Still?

T: I just sometimes get the feeling like I want to open it. I reminds me off old times, haha. I throw it away straight away though.

J: Kaoru, what about you?

K: I don't buy that stuff.

J: Oh, you don't?

K: No, I just buy what I was intending to buy before I went. If Im walking around the store and I see an interesting new product or something, I might buy it, but the stuff near the cash register seems more like left over produce to me.

J: Ah, close to expiring?

K: Yeh, it looks like they really want you to buy it, so they put it there. I don't really feel like picking it up.

T: Ah, I see.

K: But in supermarkets they have gum and stuff near the registers, don't they?

J: Yeah.

K: I do buy gum.

J: Ahh, yeh...Kami? What do you think?

Kami: I pick all of it up.

T: Nice, Kami.

Kami: I get tonnes. 1000yen worth.

T: Haha

Kami: Maybe 500yen, not 1000.

K: Do you like sweets, Kami?

Kami: Yeh, i do. I pick them up straight away. Um, there's often drinks on display too, right?

J: Yeah.

Kami: If there's cola or fanta, I will buy both.

T: Haha

Kami: If I go to buy tea, I will buy all that.

K: You like sweet stuff, right?

J: Yeah.

Kami: No, its not that. Its just that it all looks delicious. It makes you forget *1

T: I see, yeh.

J: In that sense, its part of the store's strategy.

T: Yeh, Kami seems like he would hate that kind of strategy, but he still falls for it.

J: Yeh, he seems like he would be opposed to it, but he still buys tonnes, right Kami?

Kami: Yeh, I really jump on the bandwagon.

K: This stuff must sell a lot.

J: Yeh, I think so. This kind of food looks visually fun, right? Colourful and stuff. Kids get pulled in by it. Like, 'I wanna eat this!'. Its pretty amazing to pass a law in this. That would be impossible in Japan, right?

T: I feel like Japan has more freedom. I had the image since I was small that America is the country of freedom, but recently if you look at America, there is ban after ban...it seems like life there is getting more restricted. And in Japan, even with covid we can still go outside, or go to restaurants and stuff. It made me think Japan is quite free. Its a weird feeling.

J: Ahh, the rules in America are stricter?

K: Overseas, they were quite strict about indoors. Japan is only just getting like that recently, right?

J: Yeh, America was a lot quicker to regulate indoor smoking.

T: Its like that with alcohol too. When one of my best friends was in America during his student days, he once wore a Budweiser tshirt and he was told, 'Its illegal', and he had to change it. I thought that was pretty strict when I heard.

K: You can't carry it around with you either, can you?

J: Yeah, you have to put it in a bag.

K: I stepped outside a venue without knowing this while I was holding a beer can once, and I was told that isn't allowed.

J: Yeh, yeh, yeh. Well, it does depend on how you look at it. Its often said that in Japan, rather than having rules...well, in America there is a kind of society that is governed by rules, but in Japan its more about community, so rather than having rules, peer presure is very strong. People worry about what others think. Its very Japanese, 'other people are saying this, so...', or 'other people are doing this, so...'. People adapt themselves to that first of all.

T: I wonder which style is better?

J: Yeah. They are both different.

T: Its not nice being told by the government to stop something, is it? I understand the reasons though.

K: Well, people do protest that kind of thing.

Kami: But I think this law is good.

J: It is good.

Kami: I think its really good, because you can finish up without buying stuff.

K: Well, it is good.

Kami: Its really good. I thoroughly agree with it.

K: Kids won't pine for sweets either.

J: Yeh.

Kami: I do think its good to buy sweets for kids though.

J: Oh really?

K: Yeh, but just not there, right?

Kami: I wanted sweets when I was a kid.

K: Me too.

T: Yeh, me too.

Kami: I really wanted all those sweets by the register when I was a kid, but I never got them.

K: There are those socks full of snacks at Christmas, right? I wanted one of those.

T: Yeh, me too.

J: If you think about what made you excited as a kid, basically its the sweet shop, right?

K: Yeh, I used to go there.

J: Whenever I ate sour plums and stuff from the sweet shop, my tongue went bright red *2

K: They were crunchy, right?

J: Yeh! I would drink up all the syrup.

K: Haha.

J: I bet that would be no good under that tax in Berkeley.

T: Yeah.

K: Ahh, sweet shops...

T:???

J:???*3

K: I still feel like eating those kind of sweets sometimes.

J: Yeah. There aren't many sweet shops around these days, in the Tokyo area.

T: Yeah, there aren't.

K: But there are sections in other shops that sell those kinds of sweets.

T: A long time ago there was an izakaya in Sangenjaya that only served sweets as beer snacks.

K: Oh, there was, wasn't there?!

T: Yeh. I went a couple of times, cause its unusual, but sweets...

K: You can't withstand it?

J: After you become an adult, right? At first you are like, 'Woah, so nostalgic', but ..

T: Yeh, it gets boring.

J: You start to think halfway, 'this needs to be more tasteful!' Uh, in the precincts of Kishibojin there is apparently Japan's oldest sweet shop or something still there. Its a famous old man, or old woman who runs it.

K: I recently went to Kawagoe.

T: Oh, Little Edo!

K: Yeh, there is a sweet shop street there. The people there were amazing. Well, I mean they were all wearing yukatas and stuff, and eating.

T: Its made me want to go to a sweet shop!

J: Ah, there is a tonne of good places to eat there, isn't there?

K: Oh, is there? In Kawagoe?

J: Yeh.

K: As for sweet shops, the ones that have a downtown feeling are the best. 

J: Yeah.

K: Its nostalgic, going to the sweet shop in the evening, and getting those colourful squeezy things to drink...

J: Yeh!

K: And eating sweets at the same time.

J: Which was your favourite sweet, Kaoru? From the sweet shop?

K: From the sweet shop? I liked Curry rice-crackers, and 5yen chocolate, and those gummy type things in a box, that you pick up with a little stick.

J: Oh yeh.

K: I used to eat that kinda stuff.

T: What about you, Joe?

J: I liked plum jam, I sandwiched it between those kinda soft rice-crackers. And I liked the  Castella.

T: Oh yeh, they had those small ones.

J: Yeh, they were on a skewer. I used to eat them a lot.

K: Tasai?

T: I used to get those squeezy things too. And wasn't there always like a 10yen game outside sweet shops? I would win more sweets with that.

K: You won?? More sweets came out of the game?

T: It was like a 30yen ticket, right?

J, K: Ehh?

J: I never saw that.

T: Didn't you? Like, where you try to get the ball in the hole for ten yen? And if you win, you get a ticket?

K: Ah, I remember something like that where you can win, but I don't remember tickets coming out. It was little freebies. Ah, its nostalgic. Should we try going to a sweet shop on this show?

J: A sweet shop?? Should we??

K: Yeh.

T: Thats a good idea. With 100yen in change.

K: Actually, that place in Kawagoe was closed.

J: Haha, really?

K: I went all the way there, but..

J: Just for that?

K: Yeh.

J: Really?

K: Well, lets go to one on this show.

J: Yeh, lets do it! Film on location!

K: Ok, lets plan something. Lets fill ourselves with unhealthy snacks.

J: Ah, but it won't be that much.

K: Well, yeh.

J: It'll be limited to what you can get at the sweet shop.

T: Sounds good.

K: Is this ok? Us ending up talking about this?

T: Its ok, it feels good to talk about it.

J: It does, haha.

K: Ok, well, we'll finish here. Please subscribe. Thank you very much.

*1, 2 Difficult to hear, but i think its this.

*3 Couldn't catch.

[guudak]

andante, andante

pairing: jungkook / oc genre + tags: college au, f2l, alcohol, pining word count: 7,522 The aftermath of your best friend singing that ABBA song, clumsily flirting with you and then drunkenly professing his love to you multiple times in the same night.

“Is he ok? Namjoon, what’s he doing?” 

“He’s severely hungover,” he explains to you, propping an arm on the windowsill. His hand gestures. “This is his remedy.” 

You look out the window again, overseeing the frat’s backyard, and down below at the deck - is the person you sought. The gales shake the trees, you can hear it howl, and not to mention the downpour of rain that had you soaked to the skin through your jeans between your sprint from the bus stop to here. You look back at Namjoon, disbelieved. “What, sitting in a hot tub outside in the middle of a hale storm?”

“Erm, well, not the storm bit. That was just unfortunate. Sitting meditatively in a hot tub though, yeah. He does that a lot, moreso when he has something on his mind.” He peeps a discreet eye at you while you claim a seat on the ledge. Your arms cross, huddling your oversized cardigan over yourself as you glance back at the mop of matted black hair on the deck. Jungkook is sitting very still, laying back, eyes closed and his neck craning upwards towards the gloomy sky. A breath of air expels from your nose when you imagine how cold the rain must be. 

“I really wanted to talk to him in person … I don’t know, do you think I should have waited a few days?” You turn to Namjoon who shakes his head. 

“It’s good you came here. I think it would have left him to assume the worst and overthink otherwise, and you know what he’s like - better to confront him sooner than later. He’s been in a kind of sad, mopey daze since this morning.”

Your lips purse together as you mull this over. “I don’t necessarily want to confront him about it now, not if he doesn’t want to yet. I just want to see him and … make sure he’s ok. Because you know, that … overthinking thing he does.”

The upward lift of Namjoon’s lips is soft, the same kind of softness that’s perceptible in his eyes. The look reminds you of Jungkook’s own gentle demeanour. “I think seeing you here will disorient him a litte, but I think deep down he’ll be relieved. ” 

He invites you to sit in the warmth of the lounge downstairs while you wait. The house of Beta Tau Sigma is cosy, and your favourite visits are always during the winter period when they’d decorate the interior, reminding you very much of the setting of a classic Christmas movie. Alas, however, it isn’t winter, and there are still strewn cups around and a broken lamp on the table in front of you; consequence of the party they hosted the previous night.

You’re surprised Jungkook remembers. He’d been so far-gone yesterday, yet you woke up this morning to four successive texts from him -

i’m sorry

im so so sorry.

can we talk

please

You’d thought over a tactful reply; taking into mind Jungkook: despite the calm, rational front he has - is emotional, an individual with a soul as sensitive as they come. You had to be careful with what you said, but soon after aborted all efforts when you’d found yourself backspacing each time. You prefer face-to-face conversation, and for something like this - you couldn’t possibly venture any other approach that would be befitting. For anyone else, perhaps. But Jungkook isn’t just someone else. He’s your best friend.

You check the text in reply that you’d left for him from two hours ago, which is still left unread.

 hi jungkook i’d love to talk

are u ok

Sleeping it over had dulled the shock from the night before, as hearing it from him had been a double whammy for both your head and heart. You hadn’t known what to think, hadn’t known what to say.

In his tastefully tipsy state he’d been very happy. The chirpy go-lucky sort of happy that made you coo. Tipsy Jungkook is sweet and endearing, more affectionate and made it his mission to pull you with him to the karaoke machine. You’d been friends with him long enough to know that he could sing. He’s a soft singer; has a voice that could be lullaby to late sleepy evenings, it’s one you’d heard snippets of because he did it without conscious thought; he hummed in the car, while waiting in line - one of his many mannerisms that makes clear when he’s in his head.

“ABBA? Good choice,” you’d commented, after he jabbed the numbers on the remote. He budged over so you could sit beside him on the armchair. So cramped and close that you moved to drape your leg over one of his, and he welcomed it. “Not their most popular song, but definitely one of their most soulful. That’s a good one, it’s one of my favourites,” and then he stilled. 

At the cease of his movements, you’d found your spine straightening just slightly, as if on guard, but for what you hadn’t been sure. You were about to ask him if he was ok, only to be taking the brunt of his bright puppy eyes that smile at you.

“Me too,” he’d said, with that characteristic gentleness shining in his orbs. 

A few hours later, he’d morphed from sweet boy-next-door with the angel voice to himbo football jock slash and quote “pussy-whisperer,” courtesy and words verbatim of Park Jimin, who vibed with Jock Jungkook like a long lost brother. 

The amount of girls that suddenly flocked to him and sat on his lap had you reeling in hysterics to the extent that you had to bury your face in Hoseok’s shoulder. Even when Jungkook’s on the football team, you’d never thought of him once as a jock. Didn’t they say all jocks are athletes, but not all athletes are jocks? He’d never lived up to the greasy college stereotype. Turned out maybe some alcohol was missing in the mix. Was this what you were missing? Who knew he had it in him?

“How many have you had, man?” Hoseok had asked, and Jungkook grinned, mouth lop-sided, before then thwacking him solidly on the back. 

“I’m good, thanks for asking, man.” 

“That wasn’t what I - ok,” Hoseok winced, clutching at his shoulder blade, and exchanging a bemused look at you. 

You were alert to the sliding gaze of Jungkook on you. He slid into the chair close beside you, and you propped your elbow onto the counter. Head resting in your palm, you’d anticipated it.

“Hey, cutie.”

And there it was.

Your mouth twitched during your attempt to stifle your laugh, but you were eager to play along. You straightened, not shy to look him direct in the eyes, even when his own wandered to your midriff. “Hey.”

A moment’s pause, before he let out a wistful sigh. 

“Holy shit, I love your boobs.”

Hoseok spat into his cup, a succession of coughs after.

“No, I’m just saying, from a non-biased, impersonal point of view …” He made a vague, rounded motion in the air with his hands, “- they’re really nice. I’m saying this objectively.”

“Objectively,” Hoseok wheezed. You aimed a calculated kick at his ankle.

“Thanks! They’re not much but they’re cute, I grew them all by myself.”

Jungkook hummed in acknowledgement, a critical eye on you and his head bobbing solemnly. “You did a good job.”

“Oh my God,” Hoseok was crying; head ducked, full-blown tears of laughter, ears pink and slapping the countertop. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“Yours are pretty neat, too,” you told him. 

He looked down at the outline of his chest. “You think so? I’ve been working out but they could do with a bit more volume.” 

Hoseok was doubling over, desperate to leave but at the same time rooted to the spot, thumping his chest to stop himself from choking. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m gonna die if I stay any longer. See you, guys.”

He left, leaving you alone with Jungkook and a few others in the kitchen. “You alright?” you asked, and he nodded again, smiling tiredly and head lolling a little to the side.

“Did you like the song I sang for you earlier?” 

“You sang it for me? How sweet of you,” you cooed, cuddling up to his side. “You know, if you wanted to touch my boobs, if you asked I think I’d be ok with that.”

He seemed hesitant. “You’re bullshitting.” 

“Ok, maybe I am a little,” you chuckled, feeling the rumble resonating from his chest. 

“Seriously,” he murmured, and for a millisecond, you swore you detected the tone of the Jungkook - not this Jungkook who was a confident force, but the one you were most familiar with, “I think I’d -”

Jimin’s voice boomed above the stereo, “Jungkook! It’s your turn! Get your ass back here!”

A heavy sigh was drawn out from him as he slid his chair back. Though, he waited for you to lift your head from his chest before doing so. 

“See you.” He winked at you before following Jimin’s ongoing calls. Though, more of a wink and a half. He never could wink properly with just one eye, both had to be involved.

Then came the finale.

The most recent drunken Jungkook phase - one you’d never witnessed beforehand. If there was anything you could have concluded, it was that beyond his sober level-headed exterior, he must have a lot of pent up anger. Jungkook in drunken phase three transitioned between a three colour spectrum of moods and you’d barely caught up. 

Exhibit one -

“The ocean is so important!” he cried, literally cried as he began bumbling about blue whales and the sheer plastic in the ocean, morosed how the first piece of plastic ever produced still hadn’t decomposed. 

It was no help that Namjoon enthusiastically joined in - the fucking nerds, until Jungkook started bawling and knocked back the salt shaker on the countertop mistaking it for a shot of tequila. 

You’d panicked and dragged him to the nearest bathroom to wash it out of his eyes. The seconds that followed afterwards, was you rubbing his back while he sobbed and puked the hearty contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Exhibit two - 

“If any dude is giving you a hard time, chances are - you’re hotter than them. And on top of that, they made you cry, making you a better person than them!” he proclaimed. Once you’d helped him clean up, he’d bumped into Ola - a girl you recalled was in his media class, and was crying outside of the door of the bathroom you and Jungkook had been in. 

She’d sniffled her way through a story about a boy she’d been talking to for six months, and Jungkook was as revved up as his ocean speech while he pep-talked her about how heartless the guy was; that he gave good guys a bad rep; and that she simply deserved better. Of course, you’d agreed with him. It sounded all too familiar to something you’d said in the past, though who could blame him for adopting your mannerism of speech when he’d spent so much time with you?

Exhibit three -

“Hey, Chad! Why the fuck do you hate poor people?!”

You were mortified. “Jungkook! Literally, where did you get that conclusion from?!” 

“He plays lacrosse and owns a golf cart!”

You groaned, yanking at his arm away from Chad - captain of the boys’ lacrosse team, and who’d also fortunately passed out on the couch, otherwise Jungkook for sure would have had his face beat in. Though, you’d like to think that Jungkook would win, for sure, but you promised sober Jungkook that you’d take care of drunk Jungkook. 

So that was that. 

By now you’d contracted a stress-induced migraine, by which your own best friend was accountable for. And you thought - by God, did he have to deal with this every time you went to a party together while you’d run rampant? This had been an eye-opener, and you should definitely be considerate next time because drunk people were babies, and not in the cute way either.

And finally: exhibit four.

“Hey.” 

You endured all the pet names, had endured being called the Apple of his Eye, Angel Face, and his Compass Star, because flirty Jungkook had been throwing pet names around all night. You’d seen and heard it yourself. But nothing would have prepared you for what he’d say next. 

You glanced at him, just a second to look away from your phone screen. “Yeah?” 

His eyes drooped, form slouched, and head atop his folded arms on the countertop. It was just after midnight, and the kitchen was a quiet lull, besides you and Jungkook who were sitting together; and then there was Jimin and Taehyung, and Seokjin by the sink in their own private conversation … and whatever it was that Taehyung was doing. Admittedly you hadn’t been paying much heed nor did you endeavour to find out.

Body curling into himself; Jungkook looked so much smaller than when he stood to his full stature. 

“I’ve got it bad,” he mumbled, wistfully, “real bad. So bad - I’m doomed bad. End of the fucking world baaad.”

Your hands rubbed at his nape, tender fingers toying with the longer hairs there. He’d been growing it out, and he looked good. You tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear. “What makes you think that?” 

Again - the glossy puppy eyes that gazed up, contemplating you like you’d fallen from heaven. 

His smile was meek, as shy as the drawling voice that spoke, “I … I really think you’re my soulmate. I don’t like saying it too much but I … like, love love you, but we’re only best friends. Someday you’ll date for real - instead of flings, I’d have to accept it. I don’t think I’ll be ok, but I will be, jus’ will take time to get over you. Have done it a few times before. I’ll be ok.” 

Your hand stilled, fingers still tangled in his locks. 

Rendered motionless, like air had been punched out of you from the stomach, unable to bring yourself to salvage the words. Breathless, all you could bring yourself to do was to weakly call his name. 

He hadn’t heard you, and he yawned, leaning into your touch. His body trembled with his giggles. “One time, you were sooo drunk. You were so drunk, don’t think you remembered - blacked out. You flirted with me that whole evening. After that … after that I became obsessed with you forever.”

It was with a sinking stomach when you’d realised that you couldn’t recall that night at all. 

Gulping, you peered down at the mop of tangled hair on the countertop, wishing for nothing else but to properly see his face, but it was half-hidden where he’d snuggled into his arms. 

“Jungkook?” you whispered, gently moving away the hair that flopped over his eyes. “Jungkook?’

No reply. Just steady, heavy breathing.

No reply, because he’d fallen asleep.

It’s a splitting headache that rouses Jungkook from heavy sleep. One of those slumbers where he wakes up groggy, as if he hasn’t rested at all despite it being hours since. He tries to get up, but to no avail. His limbs are leaden heavy, and he collapses back onto his bed within seconds of mustering the strength to hoist himself up.

There are a series of knocks on the door but what’s the point of knocking when Jimin barges in anyway. He snickers seeing Jungkook: a sad, spectacular heap on the bed with a bitching hangover to boot.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” 

“Shut up,” Jungkook drawls, barely recognising the cadence of his own voice. He throws an arm over his face, brow tightening as he shuts his eyes to recall anything that happened hours prior, but even that’s too much of a Herculean effort that his brain isn’t willing to commit to at nine in the morning. Hangovers are not worth the night before for this - this is a different kind of hell. 

Jimin places a glass and a jug of water on his bedside table. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.” 

“Thanks,” he replies. He at least has enough strength to reach for the glass. When he sits up a hand goes instantly to knock against his temple, as if it would stop whatever invisible vice it is that’s squeezing and hammering at his brain from all directions. He notices Jimin’s narrowing scrutiny on him. 

“You remember anything from yesterday?”

“Honestly, not really. Just some bits here and there.” 

“Blacked out, huh.” If Jimin hesitated it’s only for a split second, he stuffs a hand into his hoodie pocket for his phone. “There’s something I wanna show you. Not sure if you’re gonna like it much.”

“Can’t be that bad,” he says, but Jimin proffers a look, and Jungkook frowns. “... Right?”

Jimin licks his teeth in a way that makes Jungkook’s stomach drop just slightly.

“Famous last words, bud,” is all he replies.

 /

The slide of the back doors from the kitchen is what jerks your head up, followed by the sound of feet pattering on tiles. Suddenly, there’s a rise of anxiousness. Until you drum into your head that, no , this is nothing for you to be anxious about. There are the natural nerves budding that stem from confrontation, and you think this may be it.

Towel around his shoulders and dampened hair swept back, Jungkook doesn’t notice you at first when he appears by the doorway. He walks, gazes ahead like his legs are functioning on autopilot - but when he does notice you, he could have skidded. The way he halts and how his body almost springs backwards into the kitchen as soon as he sees your form huddled on one end of the couch, and how Basil - the frat’s cat, is curled by your lap, peacefully asleep and indulging in the soft stroke of your knuckles on his head. 

His expression mirrors a man who wants so desperately to sink into the floorboards. Or to dash back into the hale storm and fully immerse himself head to toe into the hot tub’s waters and never surface again.

The first few seconds of silence is heavy. As if you’re both still trying to process the presence of the other. It’s an uncomfortable silence you’re not accustomed to when with Jungkook. He’s always leaned more to the quiet side of the spectrum; introverted, introspective. But silences had always been comfortable, even when you two clashed. 

You endeavour for eye contact but he’s suddenly so transfixed on a shadow upon the wood flooring. 

“Hey,” you begin, quietly, like the walls are listening in on you. It’s enough gentle encouragement for him to peer up. He hides his hangover well but the mirth, the glint; the starry eyedness that reflected in his orbs from the night before is absent, and no amount of hot tub therapy could conceal the physical and mental exhaustion. 

“Hey.” He sounds almost breathless, smothers the tremor in his voice with a cough. “You’re … you’re soaked.”

“So are you.” Your tone is apologetic, “Sorry I came on short notice, I messaged you but I don’t think you saw it.”

He winces. “Right - sorry. My phone died. Haven’t checked it since.”

You muster a small smile. “I thought as much.” 

Another breath. Another nervous lilt in his voice. “I’m sorry. Not just the phone thing but everything I said to you last night.” 

You sigh. “Don’t be. It’s just … I’m surprised you remember what you said.”

He takes a breath, bicep flexing when he rubs anxiously at his nape. “I don’t,” he admits. “Jimin told me. It’s in this video he took last night of Taehyung eating cake off the floor, you could hear my voice in the background.” 

“Ah. That explains it.” Your lips pursed. “Did you mean what you said?”

His eyes round and flash to yours. He chews his lip, throws a glance at his feet. “... Yeah,” he whispers. 

“Not just the alcohol talking?”

“No.”

You’re quiet, continuing to stroke Basil who’s still fast asleep beside you.

“Sor—“

“Stop apologising,” you snap. You didn’t mean to, but his shoulders tense, and it makes you wallow in guilt that only he out of everyone has been able to make you feel. You haven’t thought this through and now you’re here you’re saying all the wrong things and asking all the wrong questions. But you remember it’s him, and recollect yourself. “Jungkook - it’s just … it’s just a lot to unpack.” 

You peer up, his nod is slow, but he gets it.

He’s tired, you see it clear as day. See it in the trudge of his walk, the dim in his eyes, and neither of you talk on the way up. Not until you reach his room. 

Despite your protests, he insists you help yourself to his draws for a spare change of dry clothes. It’s with that thought when you realise you still have yet to return several shirts to him with the promise of them all being washed and folded; washed and folded they are, but you never have been great at remembering to give them back. Putting it into perspective - maybe it is a little weird. Weird for two people who fall under the label of best friends. But then again you borrowed clothes from your own roommates all the time to the point you sometimes forgot whose is whose. It isn’t weird. Right? 

While Jungkook goes for a brisk shower, you peel off your soaked clothes, hang them over a spot on his clothes rack. His room is mostly devoid of personal touch, though there are a few photos of his high school football days and some of him and his friends pinned to a board. Otherwise, he’s never had much interest for interior decoration, but he likes his room clean and uncluttered. 

There’s a knock on the door a few minutes later. “Are you …?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m done.”

The door cracks open, and Jungkook appears, adorned in another change of clothes. His hair is still damp, fluffed at the patches that have managed to dry and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, but he’s less rugged than earlier. Still tired, though. So tired that you don’t question it when he makes a beeline for his unmade bed and collapses face-first into his pillow. You perch on the edge, pulling his duvet over him. 

He wriggles closer to the wall, like he’s making more room for you to sit. You appreciate the gesture and shuffle closer. Outside, the wind still howls.

“You should dry your hair properly,” you murmur, fingers at the damp ends of his nape. 

“Yeah … prob’ly should,” he sighs, muffled where his mouth is buried in his pillow.

You came here to talk about yesterday night, but maybe it’s a conversation for another time. You out of everyone should know how strenuous it is to have a heart-to-heart while being victim to a hangover that gives you the same capacity as someone half-dead. 

You’re staring blankly at the wall, so occupied with the whistle of the winds, so lost in the strands between your fingertips - that when you peer down you’re met with half-open shining eyes, and a lazy blinking gaze directed upwards at your face.

“Yes?” 

“Nothing,” he murmurs, like clockwork, and buries half his face again into the plush of his pillow. It’s enough time for you to catch the shy tilt of his lips before they hid again. It’s almost ironic, how you’re the one next to him while he nurses a hangover when it’s always been the other way round. Here, he’s so vulnerable. Your mind wanders to the possibility - what if it was the other way around? An alternate universe where it was you who serenaded Jungkook with karaoke and confessed. 

In whatever reality, you imagine him to confront you in the way you did now. Perhaps approached it a little differently, would perhaps be a little gentler, but he would never give you the cold shoulder.

For now, you both pretend there’s been no drunken confession. Best friends, like how it’s always been, and you’ll discuss it all when the time comes.

At some point you’re lowering yourself next to him; your head on the same pillow, and your bodies beneath the same blanket. He’s warm. 

And it’s peaceful, as comfortable as it always has been. 

/ 

“Oh my God, where the hell’s your shirt? I haven’t seen you swim once so far,” you scoff, and Hoseok pulls a sour face.

“You’re talking big for being the one in the string bikini.”

You look at him in disbelief. “Yeah, but I actually used the pool?”

“Scooch over, babe.”

Your eyes roll skyward as he plops beside you on the loveseat. It’s another weekend, another frat, another party, another excuse for Hoseok to walk around without a shirt because there’s a pool. Correction: a further excuse for hoards of frat boys to walk around without a shirt, but at this point you’re desensitised to it.

The music booms, a dull vibration you feel through the ground. 

Kappa Omega is infamous for their extravagant parties (at least, as extravagant as college parties can go). Compared to others it’s vastly over-the-top, with most of the guys getting in through connections just like how their college applications got past admissions, but it is what it is. They’re not all bad people, they hold parties for fundraisers but sometimes it can’t be helped not to feel sour when you see what they blow their money on. The Kappa Omega mansion is so big that you’d spent a good portion of the beginning of the night lost.

“Lucky bastards,” Hoseok mutters. He’s said that several times this evening. He’s only here for the booze and the cheese tray. He pops open another beer, chucks the bottle opener onto the low table in front of him, besides the cheese tray he stole from the kitchen. “Which frat party was it again when you blacked out and dived into the pool fully clothed? I can’t remember anymore.” 

“We don’t talk about that, thanks,” you utter, wrapping your long cardigan tighter around your torso. “Have you by chance seen Jungkook around? I thought he’d be here by now.”

He looks up, mid-way from tipping back his beer. “Yeah, I saw him some time ago.”

“What, where?”

“Sat with some food by himself somewhere.” His arm gestures vaguely. “He looked a little sad. You know, in signature Jungkook fashion, you know how he gets sometimes.” 

Your form slumps. “Right,” you murmur. It’s been over two weeks since the last time you saw him. Not that it’s unprecedented. He has football among other commitments that strung him away for days and sometimes weeks at a time, and you had your own as well.

Be that as it may, somehow it feels like the both of you are drawing the whole thing out. Not purposely, but definitely unnecessarily. Neither of you brought it up in your messages to each other either, and it hit you recently that, well - you miss him. You’ve seen him around campus, but never for too long. Nothing more than fleeting sightings of him and his disheveled hair in a half-pony while he rushes to class after football practice; a hand usually holding onto a snack while the other held onto the strap of his half-open duffel bag, but you only had time to exchange a wave and a look that held promise of your next meeting. The fact remains that you miss your best friend, and it would kill you for your friendship to be awkward because of what happened. You had every intention to talk to him tonight in person, and no dallying or delays this time.

Hoseok’s eyes squint your way. “What’s going on between you guys, anyway. You guys a thing or what?”

You sigh, “That’s the thing, I have no idea yet.” 

“Yet.” His lips purse, contemplating you. “He really likes you, you know. So, like, go easy on him.”

Your eyes narrow. “How long have you known, then?”

“As if it was hard,” he scoffs, sitting back. “Guy wears his heart on his sleeve. You have to be thick as a brick not to notice.”

“Wow. Thanks,” you deadpan.

He stabs his fork into the blue cheese. “You know why him and Yerim broke up?” 

“Oh no,” you morose, frowning, “don’t tell me it was because of me. I talked to her after they broke it off and she said it wasn’t.”

“Not entirely. But I think she was bending the truth a little so that you wouldn’t berate Jungkook about it. She’s a cool girl, really nice and a good sport. Knew you two were close and accepted that like a champ. But -” and he pauses for emphasis. A pause which is seconds too long, and then finally he puts his fork down, clutches one of your hands in both of his, and waits for you until you’re hanging on to his every breath while he chews and swallows the remaining in his mouth. He resumes, brightly, “it’s not my story to tell. So you better go and find him.”

You shove him. Harder this time - enough that he topples over, and he cackles obnoxiously. 

“Prick,” you laugh, but rise to your feet. Your gaze spans the backyard, the pool. You spot a hot tub, but it’s filled with other students who are laughing and raucous. 

“Ok, I’m going,” you announce, glancing at Hoseok who’s still very much captivated by the cheese tray before him. It does look really good. “See you in a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah, bye.”

 /

The problem with knowing so many people, and having the same friends as those people - is that in situations where you try to pull yourself away from yet another drinking game you’re taken by the elbow by someone else. Having all of your mutual friends congregated in one domain that is the Kappa Omega House has made your search for the ever-elusive Jeon Jungkook a grand Pain in the Ass. He’s like gold dust. You’ve texted him but you’ve yet to receive a reply.

“Hey, have you seen Jungkook?”

“I saw him at the front porch a few minutes ago?”

“... Seriously? I’ve literally just been there.”

You even scrambled over a balcony and leaped over a hedge when you tried to get away from Chad’s third invitation to join the game of chicken fight in the pool (a parkour stunt that you like to think would put Peter Parker to shame). You give yourself a quiet moment to catch your breath. 

It’s then you realise you’re in a part of the backyard you swear you haven’t been in before. You can presuppose why. It’s dimly lit, less people, and the boom of the stereo is still loud, but is more of a distant noise in comparison to the other parts of the house you’ve been in. Like what the hell, how big is this place? 

“Sooo, you’ve found him yet or what?”

You hear the voice before you see the face. 

Unbelievable. So you cross paths with shirtless Hoseok for the third time and yet haven’t so much as had a hair’s glimpse of Jungkook. 

“Nope,” you reply, quite miserably, hands stuffing into your cardigan’s large pockets. You feel for your phone. He still hasn’t seen your message. At this point you’re one teetering step away from letting go of the remaining wisps of your dignity and yell his name through a megaphone with a hope he'll come to you instead … you’ve probably done that while drunk before but you’re nowhere near tipsy now, and that’s besides the point. 

Behind you, Hoseok hums, quite serene. When you look back you see he’s lowered his back onto the grass, his eyelids shut.

Eyes scanning this part of the backyard, it’s a different ambience to the atmosphere by the pool. More relaxed. There are students either sat or lying on the grass in small groups, their conversations a low murmur with the occasional twinkling sound of someone’s laughter rising above it. There’s a slabbed stone pathway that leads further up the grass, which then disappears behind a tall row of hedges, and with that you find yourself on your feet again. 

“As much as it pains me to leave, there’s only so much of you I can take in one evening before I go crazy,” you tell Hoseok, who’s unbothered reply is no more than a lazy thumbs up from his spot on the grass.

It gets darker the further away you are from the house, but you’re led by the quiet warm-white glow of the lawn lights that highlight the path. It calms your mind to a lull that puts you at peace, something you desperately sought after your hopeless goose-chase just minutes prior. 

The waters of a hot tub glow blue up ahead. You skid to a stop when you come closer and see someone’s in there; shoulders immersed and their head just above the water’s surface. What’s the phrase? When you stop looking for something, it finds you? That’s probably not how it goes, but it doesn’t matter. After futile searching, hedge jumping and greasy frat boy dodging, you finally found him. Of course he’d be in a place like this.

His eyes are dazed, mesmerised by the ripples in the water that his smallest movements create. He hasn’t yet noticed you coming.

You pad closer. “... Jungkook?” and like a switch, his spine straightens, goes rigid as a ramrod at your voice. He’s blinking, head shaking side to side as if to snap himself out of the trance that clouds his head. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you exasperate.

He blinks. “You … you have?”

You scoff, amused at the way his brows knit. “Yeah,” you sigh, stopping so your forearms can lean on the sides of the tub. “May I join you?”

After a beat of hesitation - “Of course you can.” 

You shrug your long oversized cardigan off of your shoulders, and double check that your phone is still in the pocket before you chuck it in a heap on the bench. You secure your footing on the step, eyes intercepting his own. His Adam's apple bobs when the rest of your body comes into view, and you shiver at the breeze but warmth engulfs you the second you’re in contact with the bubbling water.  

“Feels good?” he asks, and you sigh contentedly, leaning back.

“Yeah.” If you really wanted to, you could fall asleep right here, right now. “What is it with you and hot tubs? Always knew you had a thing for them but never asked specifically why. Or does it just feel good?”

“Mainly that. The guys on my team use the excuse that it breaks up the lactic acid in your muscles after training, but it just feels good when you’re sore.” 

“Huh.” When you crack an eye open, he’s already looking at you. 

His lips purse. “Did you want to talk?” and when you nod he sighs, wearily. “I wanted to, honestly. But I … I guess I never felt ready to hear what you’re going to say.”

You frown. “What do you think I’m going to say?” 

“I don’t know. That you don’t feel that way about me, which I’m fine with. I was never meant to let it slip, but I ended up saying all the things I didn’t want you to hear yet. And while I was drunk, of all things.” 

You consider this, broach your tone carefully. “Were you ever going to tell me?” 

His eyes avert to the water. “... Eventually. It would have been after graduation. No step three beyond telling you, no secret ploy to get you to fall in love with me, I only would have wanted you to know how I felt. I’d leave you alone and we’d finally move on with our lives. And what better timing than after graduation? But that’s not how it turned out, did it?” He laughs, but it’s with rueful discomfort.

“How long?”

He exhales. “A while.”

“I see.” You think hard for a second. “Even when you were with Yerim?”

He gnaws on his bottom lip, but you can tell he’s honest when he replies with, “Yeah. But I never pretended she was you.”

“Of course you didn’t, you’re not that type of person.”

At last, he does smile at that, and seeing the tilt of his mouth settles a warmth in your heart.

Part of you wants to ask what happened between him and Yerim, but you think perhaps it’s for the best you don’t know, at least now. It’s not your business nor his obligation to tell you.

Before you could dwell too much on your oncoming words, you continue barging forward or you’ll chicken out from what you’re going to say next.

“Jungkook,” you begin. “What if I said yes?”

A pause. 

“What do you mean?”

“If you asked me out, and I said yes.”

He’s so bewildered he looks as if he’s just been slapped. Suddenly, something more serious shadows his features. “You know I’d never want you to date me just because. I’m fine with rejection, seriously, I’ll get over it. But I don’t want you to settle for less than what you want. You deserve someone you want, and if I’m not that person, that’s fine. You deserve -”

“Last time I checked, you don’t get a say on what it is that I do and don’t deserve. Who I deserve is for me to decide, so stop cutting yourself so short because you’re more decent than most of the guys I know.”

He shifts, looks away. “So what are you saying?”

“Should we try it?”

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then it doesn’t work out,” you say, simply.

“But then it’ll be awkward.”

“You telling me that you became obsessed with me after I flirted with you for one evening while I was drunk already made it awkward. Not like we have anything else to lose.”

A breath of air expels from his nose in a chuckle. “Oh, ouch.”

“Jungkook,” you sigh. “It’s so easy to be around you. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out, but how are we supposed to know how it’s going to turn out if we don’t even give it a chance? It’s going to be awkward either way but we’ll figure it out. Like with all the other crap we’ve gone through. I’ve been with enough guys to know that guys like you come far and few between, I trust you enough to want to do this. You’re one of those few guys I know I can trust, alongside Hoseok. Even though he can be a real bitch sometimes.”

Jungkook doesn’t rebuke you, but he laughs. It’s a sound you’ve never been more relieved to hear. 

“So what do you think? I don’t want to force you into it. If you don’t want this, I’m fine with it. If you do, I’m fine with that too. Everything on my end is fine, so what about yours?”

If him confessing happened a year, or maybe two years earlier, you don’t think you would have confronted it in the way that you’d done now. You understand why Jungkook wanted to bide his time. You’re stubborn, fiery, and don’t think things through in the way that Jungkook does. If this happened two years ago, you can imagine you’d have yelled at him on impulse, asking him why, why he let it happen.

But there’s a very particular fondness you’ve honed for your best friend that has unfurled in the years of your friendship, to the point you couldn’t possibly imagine yourself putting blame on him for his feelings. It seems being friends with him has really mellowed you. While Hoseok is the friend you’re most similar to, your other pea-in-the-pod, Jungkook is the friend who balances you out. Someone so different to you, yet someone who still knows what makes you tick.

He’s a friend who doesn’t judge, but yet is always first to call you out whenever you’re out of line. A friend who waits until you’re inside of your dorm building before driving away. The type of guy who pays for dinner and doesn’t expect you to pay him back. A friend who makes sure you’re back home safely when you’re drunk, puts a glass of water next to you and watches over you to make sure you don’t choke on your vomit in your sleep.

Finally, after careful consideration, he nods. He nods, finally.

“So we’re doing this then.” You crack a smile, and he finds it difficult to suppress his own.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

With an unchanging temper, as still and as serene as waters below the turbulent surface - Jungkook is your anchor, he always has been. The anchor that tethers your feet to the earth when the elements threaten to topple you over.

In the blue glow, you shuffle closer forward on your knees. 

“Can I kiss you?” you murmur, and he chokes on his saliva, spluttering. You smile sheepishly. “Sorry it’s weird, you don’t have to let me if that’s going too fast. I just … I want to see what it feels like.” 

He hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

He mulls it over, but it doesn’t take much thinking. He stares at you, hard. But then you disrupt the stillness with a disarming smile, and unable to resist, he beckons you over. “Come here.”

It’s odd to straddle his lap at first. In the same way it is when you’re getting on a bike for the first time or any kind of first. He doesn’t make any first move, it’s you who he waits to initiate. 

The path of your fingers trail slowly upwards, until they’re splayed against his chest. They remain there, and you detect the quick pattering of his heart, the rise of his chest. His breaths are deep but they’re controlled, and he feels sturdy beneath you. 

Jungkook is stupid handsome, with the body to match. But that’s not what swells your heart. It’s not what pushes you to move further forward in his lap and finally press your mouth to the seam of his lips before you could think twice.

It’s how tenderly he gazes up at you. With the same sincerity and adoration he’d shown the night he’d confessed drunk. His eyes, an opening to his soul which is a whole other wonder. 

When was the last time someone looked at you like that? 

The kiss is soft. No sparks, no butterflies on your end - not yet, but somehow it still feels right. Like missing pieces that have finally fallen into place. Warmth and love spills from him. It saturates your body to the very tips of your ears, all the way down to your toes, like a slow, spreading glow. It feels good.

When shy pecks don’t become enough anymore, you get needy, touching and grasping for more of him. His palms press against your lower back, massaging the skin there, and eventually your mouth parts pliant for him. 

“Oh,” he croaks, his head leaning forward so his cheek brushes yours. You can’t see his eyes, and you attempt to move but he curtains the planes of his face with his hair. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, having to strain to catch his whisper. 

“I’m embarrassed.”

You chuckle, warmth spreading from the spot on your ear that his lips hover over. “How come?”

“Like, there are probably bricks softer than my dick right now. And … I really, really don’t wanna jizz my pants in a Kappa Omega hot tub. I would have hit my lowest point in life if I do.” 

“Oh my God.” You’re almost crying, shoulders shaking with how hard you’re laughing. 

“Please, I’m so serious right now. I’d never be able to redeem myself.”

“Would jizzing in an obscenely expensive hot tub be so bad?”

“Yes,” he emphasises. “Really bad, actually. Have you heard of that guy who ejaculated in a swimming pool and accidentally got twenty girls pregnant?”

“That sounds like fake news. There’s no way. Sperm aren’t homing torpedoes, Jungkook. They’d be unviable as soon as they’d be in the water. But if you want me to move back, I’ll move back.”

His face is taut, like he’s trying so hard. “Yes, please.” His eyes go stern, but there’s a nervous jitter you feel with the skin beneath your fingertips. “And just because I think it’s worth mentioning, I don’t think we should have sex straight away.” 

“Oh. Right. I see,” you deadpan.

It’s his turn to cackle at the dead-set, disappointed look on your face. “What’s with that?”

Your eyes roll. “You know I’m kidding.” You brush the hair out from his eyes. “Jungkook, will you wait for me?”

His expression softens, and he hoists you until you’re pressed impossibly closer.

“Of course I will. However long it needs to be.”

a/n: when jk says you flirted with me the whole night and i became obsessed w you forever, yea that was from b99

originally posted on ao3! thx for reading!!! <33 

[fangirl530]

Baloo’s Lost Cargo

This is basically an AU where everything in Ducktales is the same, but all the Talespin characters are there (though they don't all appear here) and they're the same ages they were in the original. Like what they did with Darkwing when he first appeared! 

AO3 link

A couple months ago…

“I wonder why those archaeologists were so cagey about what we’re delivering?” Kit wondered aloud. Baloo shrugged.

“I don’t know, kiddo. All Becky could get out of em’ was that it was some kind of rock.” he snorted. “Imagine, paying for express delivery for a rock.”

“Come on Baloo,” Kit pushed. “It’s gotta be somethin’ more important than that- didn’t you hear who we’re delivering it to?”

“No,” Baloo admitted. “I sorta zoned out while Becky was lecturing me.” Kit rolled his eyes.

“It’s going to Scrooge McDuck, the-”

“The richest duck in the world?!” Baloo yelled, turning to stare at him with wide eyes. “That’s who this rock is goin’ to?!”

“Uh huh.” Kit glanced down at the map, grinning slightly at Baloo’s reaction. “And after that, we’re delivering those farm animals to-”

“Who cares about them, Lil’ Britches!” Baloo laughed, tussling the cub’s hair under his hat. “We’re gonna meet Scrooge McDuck!” Kit laughed with him, reaching up to shove the hat out of his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be-” the laughter dried up in his throat. “Pirates!”

“It’s gonna be pirates?” Baloo blinked at him. “Is that some new sort of slang?”

“No, Baloo! Pirates!” he pointed out the windshield. “Up ahead!”

“Whoa!” Baloo swerved to avoid the oncoming plane. “Hold on, Lil’ Britches, I’m gonna try to lose them!” as he turned, hooks sunk into the back of the sea duck, the radio crackled to life.

“Hello, Baloo and Kit Cloudkicker!” a voice said. “Prepare to be boarded by-”

“Sorry Don Garbage, I’m afraid it’s not a good time,” Baloo said. He and Kit laughed as the pirate gave a yell of frustration.

“It is Don Karnage! I am here to steal your cargo!”

Baloo smirked. “You mean these chickens?” he asked.

“Don’t forget the goat!” Kit added, snickering. Baloo grinned, glancing back at the animals in question. Their cages had broken open during Baloo’s turn, but the animals themselves were unharmed.

“Yeah- you’re welcome to em’, if you want them that badly!” he said cheerfully.

“No! I am here for the stone!” Karnage yelled.

“No can do, Karny!” Baloo said. “We’ve got a very important buyer who we’re supposed to be deliverin’ it to!” With that, he spun the plane to the left, taking out the planes attached to them and Karnage. As the flipped back right side up, both pilot and navigator laughed- neither noticing the flash of light behind them.

“You sure showed him, Baloo,” Kit said, grinning.

“Of course, no sky pirate’s gonna out fly me,” Baloo said with a smug smile. He glanced back again to check on how their cargo took the spin, and gasped.

“What? What is it?” Kit spun, peeking over the top of his seat. When he saw what Baloo had seen, he gasped too.

Behind them was- was-

“It’s a chicken goat!” Kit yelled.

“It’s hideous is what it is!” Baloo replied. “I don’t remember loading that on the plane!” The creature bleated and charged at him, pecking at him aggressively. Baloo screamed, shoving at it- only for his hands to get pecked violently.

“Get it off, get it off, get it off!” he shouted, scrambling for the Seaduck’s controls. He pulled a lever, opening the cargo door- and both the creature and the stone flew out of the plane.

Panting, Baloo closed the hold and turned the plane around.

“Baloo!” Kit protested. “The stone fell down on that island!”

“As far as I’m concerned, the chicken goat can have it! No delivery is worth bein’ attacked by that thing again!”

“Well, what are you gonna tell Miss Cunningham?” Kit pressed.

“I don’t know, Lil’ Britches- help me figure somethin’ out!” he chuckled. “She’ll never believe us if we told her the truth.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Kit admitted. “Okay, I’ll help you.” The pair made up a story to tell Rebecca when they got back, and tried to put the horrifying creature out of their minds.

…

As the plane came to a full stop, Della smiled at Dewey in a way which she hoped was encouraging.

“Not bad,” she said. “But maybe less crashing next time?”

“Agreed,” Huey said, stumbling up behind them and leaning against Della’s seat, a daze expression on his face.

“Less crashing,” Dewey agreed. “After all, I can’t be Dew-mazing if I just crash the plane! That’s Launchpad’s thing!”

“Not what I meant, but we’ll discuss that later,” Della said. She glanced at the building and grinned. “Look on the bright side, at least you got us to Higher for Hire! let’s get out of here and talk to the pilot that delivered the stone!” she opened the door and jumped to the dock, then turned and held out her hands for Huey.

“Oh my goodness!” A woman cried, running up to them as she pulled him over. “Are you all okay?!”

“We’re fine,” Della assured her, reaching for Dewey and pulling him onto the dock as well. “Right, kids?”

“Just a few bruises,” Huey confirmed.

“I told ya they were probably fine, Beckers,” a bear said, ambling out of the building. “I’ve had worse crashes than that and walked away without a scratch!” the woman ignored him, smiling at Della instead.

“I’m Rebecca Cunningham, owner of Higher for Hire,” she said cheerfully. “Can we help you?”

“Yeah,” Della said, eyes brightening. “We’re looking for the pilot- we need to ask about a delivery they made a while ago.”

“Was there an issue with the delivery?” Rebecca asked, her smile growing tense. Behind her, the bear winced. Della shook her head.

“No, we just want to know the status of the item that was delivered,” she said. “Where it ended up.”

“Alright,” Rebecca said. She glanced at the bear. “Baloo?”

“Right,” Baloo said, nodding. “I’m the pilot- could ya describe this item to me?” he asked them.

“Better, I can show you,” Huey said. He took out Isabella Finch’s journal, opened it to the stone of what was, and held it out to Baloo. He leaned down and peered at it.

“Yeah- yeah, that looks familiar.” he stood, rubbing his head. “Hold on, let me think… ah! Got it!” he snapped his fingers. “That stone fell out of my plane while my navigator and I were deliverin’ it. Hold on, I’ll go talk to ‘im and find out where it fell. Be back in a bit.”

He walked over to a yellow plane, and Rebecca gestured for them to follow her.

“While he talks to Kit, why don’t you all come inside?” she led them up to the building and went in, chatting with Della the whole way.

Dewey stopped at the window as they went in, a tv catching his eye. He gasped as footage of a young bear came on the screen. He was surfing the clouds on some sort of metal board, a wide grin on his face. ‘

“This can be my thing!” Dewey said, his eyes shining with excitement. He could just imagine it- surfing over the clouds, doing all kinds of awesome stunts, crowds screaming his name…

“Dewey!” Della called, snapping him out of his daydream.

“Coming!” he yelled, hurrying inside.

“The stone was supposed to go to my uncle,” Della was saying to Rebecca. Rebecca’s eyes widened.

“Scrooge McDuck is your uncle?”

“Yep! In fact, he’s the one who sent us to find out what happened to it. It’s…” she glanced down at Huey and Dewey. “Kind of important.”

“Well, I’m so sorry it was lost,” Rebecca apologized. “Baloo doesn’t normally lose cargo- he said they ran into some trouble on the way there, and they weren’t able to retrieve it.”

“Well…” Baloo’s voice said, sounding sheepish. “That’s not exactly true.” they all turned, seeing Baloo and a younger bear standing in the door. Rebecca frowned, but before she could ask what Baloo meant, Dewey let out a loud and dramatic gasp.

“You’re my idol from the video I only just saw a minute ago!” he said, rushing up to Kit and shaking his hand.

“Um, thanks?” Kit said, sounding confused and wary. “But… why am I your idol?”

“I saw that thing you were doing! With the silver board!” Kit’s eyes lit up.

“You mean Cloudkicking!”

“Yeah, that!” Dewey grinned. “I think it could totally be my thing! Teach me EVERYTHING you know!”

“I’d be happy to!” Kit looked up at Baloo. “Is that okay, Baloo?”

“Sure thing, kid,” Baloo said, smiling. “You can show ‘im on the way to the island where the stone ended up.”

“Oh,” Della cut in. “That’s alright, we can fly there on our own! We just need the coordinates.”

“It’s no trouble-” Rebecca started. Baloo cleared his throat.

“I think your plane could use a bit of tuning up,” he said, aiming a thumb at the Cloudslayer, which was sinking below the waves. “Our mechanic will take a look at it while Kit and I fly you out.” Della sighed.

“Fine.”

“Great! Right this way!” Baloo marched out of Higher for Hire, a hand on Kit’s shoulder. “We’ll have ya there in no time!”

On the Seaduck

Dewey poked his head into the cockpit, causing both bears to turn and look at him.

“Soooo… can you teach me cloudkicking now?” He asked Kit, tapping excitedly against the door frame. Kit looked at Baloo questioningly, and he chuckled.

“Sure thing, Kiddo. Can ya get your mom in here for me? If Kit’s gonna be teachin’ you, I’ll need her to navigate our way to the island.”

“Sure!” Dewey disappeared, and moments later, Della appeared in his place. Kit slid out of his seat.

“Here’s the map,” he said, handing her the paper. “The island we’re going to is circled.” he watched as Della sat down, a doubtful look in his eyes. “Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Of course!” Della said dismissively. “I plan my own flights all the time!”

“Okay,” Kit said. “Just call me if you need help!” he left the cockpit, and was immediately met by an extremely excited Dewey.

“So where do we start?” he asked eagerly.

“Well,” Kit began. “The best way to learn is by doing it.” Dewey gasped as Kit pulled out his airfoil and handed it to him. “Let’s see what you can do! Just take this rope-” he gave Dewey the handle he always held on to, and opened the cargo hold with a lever. Gesturing to the opening, he smiled. “You just, jump- once you’re out, try to balance on the board, and keep your knees bent.”

“Got it!” Dewey jumped, immediately being caught by the wind and whisked out as far as the rope would let him.

Kit watched him thoughtfully. His form wasn’t bad- a little stiff, but he’d loosen up as he got more comfortable. That could be worked with easily. The problem was… Dewey was screaming. He did not look like he was having fun, which Kit thought was the whole point.

“Uh, maybe we should practice inside first!” he shouted, hands cupped around his mouth. Dewey didn’t respond, and Huey came to stand next to Kit.

“Did you hear that, Dewey?” he shouted. “You can stop!”

“No way, I love this!” Dewey yelled, a tense smile on his face. “The freedom! The wind in my mouth! The sky pirates!”

“Sky pirates?!” Huey and Kit shouted, eyes widening in alarm. Don Karnage grinned as he flew his plane closer.

“Miss me?” he crowed, swinging his sword at Dewey, who thankfully ducked just in time.

“I wanna stop now!” The duck yelled. Kit cupped his hands over his mouth.

“Dewey, you need to start pulling yourself in! Grab the rope!” Dewey screamed in response, and Kit groaned. “Gah, he’s screaming too loud to hear me! Hold on Dewey, I’m coming!” he turned to Huey. “Once I’m out, pull that lever and draw the rope back in- it’ll take that and us pulling to get in as quick as possible.” after Huey nodded, he jumped onto the rope and slid along it to Dewey.

“Be careful Kit!” Baloo called from the cockpit, his teeth clenched as he held the wheel steady.

Kit waved to show he’d heard him, jumping onto the board. He grabbed Dewey with one hand and the handle with the other. Dewey wrapped his arms around the bear, and Kit grabbed the rope and started pulling.

“Flip the lever, Huey!” he yelled. The other boy nodded, and Kit turned his attention to Dewey. “You can stop screaming now,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Don Karnage flew between them and the plane with an evil laugh, slicing the rope with his sword. Kit’s eyes widened. “Scratch that. You can keep screaming.” They dropped, and as Dewey’s screams increased, Kit winced (Dewey was screaming right into his ear) and angled his airfoil so it caught the wind, bringing them as close to the shore as possible before they hit the water. They both took a deep breath before they were plunged beneath the surface. Dewey’s arms didn’t loosen, thankfully- Kit couldn’t open his eyes to see him if he’d let go.

The waves washed them safely ashore, and they simply laid there for a moment, both breathing deeply. After a moment, Kit stood and held out a hand to Dewey.

“Are you okay?” he asked, pulling him up. Dewey gave him a shaky thumbs up.

“Totally,” he said. His shaking voice said otherwise, but before Kit could comment on it, the Seaduck was landing next to them.

“Dewey!” Della cried, jumping out before the plane had even stopped moving. She ran to them, picking him up and holding him close to her. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re alright!”

“Mom,” Dewey said, sounding embarrassed. Kit laughed quietly, and turned away, not wanting to intrude on their tender moment, and looked at the Seaduck instead. He smiled when he saw Baloo and Huey hurrying over. He took a step toward them, but was stopped by Della. She swept him into a hug and squeezed him tight.

“Thanks for saving Dewey-” he blinked, barely having time to awkwardly pat her shoulder before she was dropping him. “-from the danger you put him in!” she finished, scowling down at him with her hands on her hips.

Kit took a step back, alarmed by the sudden anger, and Dewey came to stand next to him. He glared at his mom, but before he could say anything, Baloo was there.

“Hey now,” he said, putting himself between them and Della. He glared at her, putting a hand on Kit’s shoulder. “Your boy wanted to learn cloudkicking, and Kit taught ‘im. How was he supposed to know the pirates would show up?”

“Yeah!” Dewey said, throwing his arm around Kit’s shoulders. “It’s not Kit’s fault!”

Both parents ignored him, in favor of glowering at each other. Huey shoved his way between them.

“Let’s focus on finding the stone for now,” he said patiently. “Okay?”

“Fine,” Baloo muttered. Della crossed her arms, but nodded.

“Any chance you saw where on the island the stone fell?” she asked Baloo.

“Nope, sorry.” Baloo shook his head. “We were to high up- and we didn’t exactly wait up. We were trying to get out of there as quick as possible.” Della narrowed her eyes at him as Huey knelt on the ground, examining a pair of tracks.

“Why?”

“Hey,” Huey called, before he replied. “Check this out.” Kit knelt next to him.

“Tracks?” he asked.

“Yeah, but they’re weird.” Huey frowned as Della came up behind them. “I wonder what kind of animal made them.”

“Uh…” Della put a hand on his head, turning it to the right. “I think, that kind.” a strange creature came out of the bushes, and they quickly backed up to Dewey and Baloo.

“It’s some sort of… rhinosarilla!” Della said.

“Or a gorillaocerous,” Baloo offered.

“Gorilihno!” Dewey suggested. The creature roared in anger, and Della ran, yelling,

“We’ll decide what it’s called later, RUN!” they all followed her, sprinting through the jungle. The creature stayed hot on their heels, unrelenting in it's chase.

Dewey pulled out Kit’s airfoil, grinning. “Baloo! Launch me at him!” he said, holding it up.

“Er, great idea!” Baloo said. “But I’ve got a better one.”

“So do I!” Della snatched the airfoil out of Dewey’s hand, hurling it at the creature. It bounced off it’s head and knocked it down a hill, where it got its horn stuck in the cliff.

The airfoil flew back, and as Baloo caught it and handed it to him, Dewey crossed his arms.

“I mean… my idea would have worked just as well,” he said, frowning.

“What is that thing?!” Della yelled, gesturing at the creature.

Baloo shuddered. “It’s just like that awful chicken goat,” he said. “Remember, Kit?”

“How could I forget?” the boy replied, shivering.

“The what?” Della asked, turning around to glare at them.

“Oh… did we forget to mention that?” Baloo asked.

“You did,” Della said, gritting her teeth. Baloo shrugged.

“Sorry.”

“But where did it come from?” Huey asked, cutting off any further arguments. He walked through a couple of rocks into the bushes, and they followed (but not before Della shot another glare at Baloo).

The game to the edge of a small cliff, and below them was the stone of what was and Don Karnage. The pirate was ordering a member of his crew to lift the stone. When she did, there was a bright flash of light- and she suddenly had the lower body of an ant.

As she screamed and Don Karnage groaned, Huey flipped through the journal.

“What was once two becomes anew!” he said. “The stone of what was! It must combine two things into one!” the pirates continued trying to grab the stone, but each one who tried was combined with an animal who had happened to be touching it at the same time.

“Alright!” Della said. “What was eight pirates is now four pirate abominations- much easier!” she walked to the edge and started climbing down. “I’m going to get a closer look- stay right here.” she pointed at Baloo. “You, stay further over there.” she pointed behind the kids, and he held his hands up in surrender.

They all watched as Della climbed down, gasping when she started sliding- just barely catching herself before she fell off.

“Oh man, mom’s in trouble!” Huey said worriedly.

“This is my chance!” Dewey said, grinning. “I can take the pirates out with my sick cloudkicking skills, while you-” he pointed at Baloo. “-steal one of their planes and use your piloting skills to make off with the stone!”

“Well, I am an ace pilot,” Baloo said with a smug smile. Kit elbowed him, and he coughed. “But uh, maybe you should let Kit handle the pirates? He has more experience than you do.”

“I can do it,” Dewey insisted. “I’ve dealt with Don Karnage before!”

“I meant- wait.” Baloo held up a hand. “You’ve met Karney before?” Dewey nodded, and Baloo sighed. “Alright, if you’re sure-”

“Hold on,” Huey said, stepping between them and looking at Dewey. “This is a dumb, pointless risk!” he said as Dewey pulled out the airfoil. “I’m begging you not to do this.” Dewey shook his head.

“Already Dew-sending!” he called, leaping off the edge. Baloo, Kit, and Huey cringed as he dropped, smashing onto the ground. Still, it was a distraction. Baloo hurried the kids down to the ground, and over to the planes.

“Get in, quick!” he said, climbing into one. He started the engine, drawing the attention of the pirates. Don Karnage pointed at them.

“Someone stop them!” he shouted. The pirates didn’t listen to him- most of them were too busy panicking. As Baloo pulled the plane out, there was a loud roar.

“Uh… guys?” Kit pointed to where Della was sitting on a bear with butterfly wings. “I think we have another problem.”

“Oh boy,” Baloo said. “I better help her!” he leapt out, calling over his shoulder- “keep the plane running!”

Huey and Kit watched as the bear ran around the clearing, roaring at pirates. It then came face to face with Baloo.

“Don’t worry,” Kit said to Huey. “He’ll help your mom!” Baloo and the bear stared at each other for a moment, and then Baloo screamed and bolted. Kit dropped his head into his hands.

“Nevermind.”

“Wait, look!” Huey pointed, and Kit looked up. The bear was tangled up in the ropes attached to the stone, and it was lifting it into the air. Baloo leapt onto the stone, flying along with them. he climbed up onto the bear with Della.

"well, this is one way to get the stone back!" he said, grinning at her. as they flew up, the remaining pirates hopped into their planes and went after them. Kit jumped out of their plane, quickly followed by Huey.

“Come on!” he yelled as they ran past Dewey. “We need to get back to the Seaduck and follow them!” the three kids ran back through the woods to where the plane was waiting.

After they got in, Kit sat down in Baloo’s chair. “I’ll get the Seaduck up into the air,” he said, turning the plane on. “But someone’s going to need to distract the pirates- I don't think the bear can fight them off."

“I will!” Dewey volunteered. “I can cloudkick out there, and save my mom and Baloo!”

“That’s enough!” Huey yelled, yanking the airfoil out of his hands. “Why don’t you both just do your thing!” Kit turned to look at him, confused, while Dewey scowled.

“This is my thing!" he said, gesturing at the board. “Flying straight and boring isn’t going to save them! Anyone can do that!”

“Wait,” Kit said, drawing both ducks’ attention. “Dewey, you can fly a plane?!”

“Yeah, so?”

“So? That’s great!” he stood. “I’ve been learning, but I’m nowhere near ready to fly on my own. Until I’m old enough to take real lessons, I’m best at being Baloo’s navigator. So you being able to fly well enough to keep a plane this size in the air, and keep it steady? At your age?” he grinned. “That is amazing, and it's exactly what we need right now.”

“Besides,” Huey said, smiling. “If I know you, you’ll make flying as special as you are. No one will be able to fly just like you.”

“Okay,” Dewey said, a smile blooming across his face. He sat in the pilot’s chair.

“Let’s Dewey this.”

With Dewey flying, they quickly and effortlessly caught up to Della and Baloo. As they got closer, they saw that Don Karnage had a harpoon stuck in the stone, and was reeling it in.

Kit opened the hatch and grabbed the rope. Even without the handle, it would work.

“Keep it steady!” he called to Dewey. Dewey gave him a thumbs up, and Kit jumped. He flew over to the cable, using his sudden weight to push against it and dislodge it from the stone.

“Argh!” Don Karnage yelled, dodging the hook as it flew back at him, taking out the cannon in the process. “How dare you, you little rat!”

Kit shot him a smug grin before flying to the other planes. He quickly took out their engines with the crowbar Baloo kept in the Seaduck, forcing them to head for the water before they fell.

“Wow,” Della said, staring at him. Baloo chuckled from his place behind her.

“Isn’t he amazing?” he asked, pride in his voice. He cupped a hand around his mouth.

“You’re doin’ great, Kit! Keep it up!” Kit waved as the Seaduck flew up to them, Dewey in the pilot’s seat.

“Mom! Baloo!” he yelled. “Jump on!”

“Get the stone first!” Della responded. She pulled out a pocket knife to cut the rope, while Baloo did his best to untie the knots. Between the two of them the stone was soon free, and it dropped onto the nose of the Seaduck. They both watched, breaths held, as it rolled to the edge. Thankfully, Dewey was able to steady the plane and keep it in the center.

“Yes!” Huey said, laughing. “I knew you could do it!” Dewey grinned.

“Thanks, Huey,” he said. He moved the plane closer to Della and Baloo so they could jump on.

“Look,” Huey said, pointing to where Kit was fighting with Don Karnage. The bear had just spun the pirate’s plane around, spinning him down into the waves below. They both cheered, and Kit grinned up at them, waving.

“I’ll go reel him in,” Huey said, putting a hand on Dewey’s shoulder before walking to the back. Dewey nodded, then turned to look at Della and Baloo. Della was looking at Dewey through the windshield, beaming.

“I’m so proud of you!” she yelled. She did a cartwheel. “Look how steady it is!” Dewey grinned, but Baloo did not look amused.

“Whoa,” he said. “I’ll admit this is pretty impressive, but maybe save the cartwheels for after we’re safely inside?” Della nodded.

“Fair point,” she said. The bear flew up to them, and Della smiled and scratched it’s fur. After a second, Baloo gave a small smile and did the same. The bear licked both of them, and Baloo gagged as it flew away.

“Gah, it licked my teeth!” Della laughed, wiping the spit off her face. She looked at the bear.

“Be free, my noble friend,” she said, waving at it. Baloo rolled his eyes, ushering her inside. Once they were in, he went to the back where Huey was pulling in Kit. After he was in, he drew the boy into a hug.

“Great job, Lil’ Britches,” he said, grinning.

“Thanks Papa Bear,” Kit said, smiling back. He fist bumped Huey, and the three of them walked up to the cockpit.

“You’re doin’ great, kid,” Baloo said to Dewey, walking up behind him. “But I can take over now.”

“Aw, let him fly us home Baloo,” Kit said. “He’s a natural- he can handle it.” Baloo looked down at him.

“Alright,” he conceded. “If you trust him, then so do I.” he looked at Dewey. “Just be careful with my baby, okay?”

“He will be,” Della promised. She elbowed him. “I let him fly my baby, and- well…” she coughed. “He crashed it into the ocean. But he’s not gonna try to do any stunts this time!”

Baloo laughed. “She’s been through worse than that- Just so long as we get home in one piece.” he looked at Dewey thoughtfully. “One more thing, though.”

“Yeah?” Dewey asked, keeping his eyes on the sky.

“Do you know how to get back to Higher For Hire?”

“Uh... no,” Dewey admitted sheepishly. “I guess that’s a problem, huh?”

“Nah,” Baloo said dismissively. “That’s why I have a navigator! Kit?”

“On it, Papa Bear,” Kit said, hopping into the navigator’s seat. he smiled at Dewey.

"Are you ready to... Dewey this?" he asked. Dewey smirked.

"I am so ready."

Once they were back home, Baloo lifted the stone off the Seaduck’s nose and into the spare crate that Rebecca had waiting for him.

“There,” he said, putting the lid over it. “You’re good to go!”

“Thank you,” Della said, smiling as Huey, Dewey, and Kit pushed it into the Cloudslayer. “We really appreciate the help.”

“No problem,” Baloo replied. “It was the least we could do- considering we lost the cargo in the first place.” Della shrugged.

“Eh, it happens. Uncle Scrooge’ll understand when we tell him what happened.” Baloo blinked.

“Uncle…?" he asked, before his eyes widened in realization. "Scrooge McDuck is your uncle?!” Della snorted.

“Yeah, who did you think sent us? Speaking of which-” she reached into her pocket. “He said that if you could get us stone, I should give you this.” she gave him some money. “It’s what he owed you for the cargo when you were originally delivering it.”

“Whoa, thank you!” Baloo grinned. “Becky will be happy- she was mad when we came back without this before.” after tucking it into his shirt pocket, he held out a hand. “It was nice to meet you,” he said.

“Likewise.” Della grinned, shaking it. “Maybe we’ll see you around?”

“Maybe,” Baloo agreed. He smirked. “If ya ever need anything else delivered.” they laughed together as the kids came up to them.

“The stone is loaded, Mom,” Huey said.

“Okay, then we should probably be getting back to Duckburg.” she and the boys climbed in the plane, waving one last time before shutting the door.

“Dewey gave me his address,” Kit said as they flew off. “So I can write him and see how his flying is going.” Baloo put an arm around him.

“That's great, Lil' Britches." he hummed thoughtfully. "You know, if you wanted, I could start taking you out on the weekends to fly.” Kit gasped.

“Really, Papa Bear?” he asked, looking up at Baloo with wide eyes. Baloo grinned.

“Really. I have a feeling both of you could be ace pilots someday.”

[takeflight-hermitcraftau]

Chapter 1- New World

Grian first came too to the sound of an explosion overhead. He slowly pushed himself up, looking down at the sandy beach he was now on. “What the- Where am I?” He asked, standing up and brushing sand off his clothes and shaking out his wings. He looked around the small island, and saw crafting tables and saplings galore. His eyes caught onto a sign in the center of the little island.

“Welcome to Hermitcraft Season 6!

- Scar”

“No way.” Grian covered his mouth as he looked at the sign. “I’m in a new world! Oh my god. The watchers let me go?? No they couldn’t have.” He mumbled, and jolted as the communicator on his wrist started to buzz.

Grian has joined the game

Falsesymmetry: Grian?? Who the heck is Grian??

Ijevin : I have… no idea.

Stressmonster : I can go find out!! Im really close to spawn!!

Grian looked around, and just quickly took off. His red and black wings quickly lifting him into the air as he zoomed off into a random direction. Usually he wouldn’t be so… shy. But he didn’t want to be thrown into conversations with people he really didn’t know, especially with his wings. They had been gifted to him from the Watchers, and he wasn’t sure how people outside of Evo would react to that. He felt his wrist buzz again.

Stressmonster: No one’s here. Hey Grian!! Come back to spawn! We wanna meet you!

We?? Grian turned off his communicator, flying to the top of a mountain and looking over the ocean. His eyes widened as he actually looked into it. What were those things in it? The oceans weren’t supposed to have life in them besides just blue fish. And those you couldn’t even see! He checked his inventory, only to see a piece of paper and his recording equipment.  He pulled out the paper and read over it, his eyes widening.

‘Welcome to your new home, Grian.’ The paper read, and it gave a quick run down on some of the things he had never seen before. There was new mobs now, Drowned, Dolphins, Fish, and even temples and ruins! He hadn’t ever heard of the watchers being this generous. Not to him at least. They hated him. Grian yelped as he heard an explosion, looking around and seeing three people flying. He saw the wings on their back, and his eyes widened, but for some stupid reason he quickly flew underwater. He looked around this underwater landscape, and he grinned as he saw what the paper had called a shipwreck. He swam over to it to investigate.

Grian quickly swam into the ship, cautious of his air. He found a chest and pulled it open, grinning at the iron and lapis it held. He quickly swam back up, putting the valuables in his inventory before suddenly taking damage. He yelped, looking around and seeing the Drowned mob the paper warned him about, quickly swimming to shore. He scrambled up the mountain, watching tridents being hurled at him. He laughed excitedly.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe this! This. This is going to be awesome!!” He looked around the world, at the block generation. “Okay. Okay. Don’t get too over your head here.” Grian ran a hand through his hair, but he couldn’t stop the excited smile that pulled over his face. “Grian. You need to collect resources. Wool, wood, and weapons. You have to start mining.”

“Ah i see. Another guy who talks to himself.” Grian screamed and fell back into the ocean, gagging as salty water filled his mouth. “Oh heavens-!” He heard, before he was being pulled out of the ocean by a man with a glorious mustache. Grian quickly took in the mans appearance. Black hair and pale skin, wearing a suit, with gorgeous iridescent wings keeping them in the air. “Seems like the drowned are proper after you mate.” He flew them back on top of the small mountain. “So, You must be Grian then right?” He asked. Grian let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Yea! That's me, Grian!” He smiled, holding out a hand to him. The man in front of him chuckled.

“I’m Mumbo, nice to meet you. False and Stress and real curious about you mate.” He smiled still, the expression nothing but warm and welcoming, “We should message the rest of the Hermits, tell them about you.” He said, more to himself than anything as he pulled up his communicator screen.

Mumbo: Found him, He’s one of us.

Docm77: One of us!

Falsesymmetry: One of us!

Stressmonster: One of us!

“Oh dear.” He sighed, looking up at Grian who was just curiously looking at everything. “Your… not used to this stuff aren’t you?” He asked. Grian nodded.

“Yea, the world i was in is still in 1.7.” He said, Mumbo’s eyes widened.

“This is 1.14!” He said, and Grian laughed.

“No.”

“Yea.” Mumbo grinned, and looked him over. “We need to call a Hermit meeting. You comfortable with that? All the hermits are just like us. I promise.” Mumbo smiled again, and Grian couldn’t help but say yes to him. He shook out his wings, drying them off as the two took flight. Mumbo started typing again as they flew. “We just started this world, your in luck! Hermitcraft is a thing we came up with. Its essentially a group of misfits, we all make videos of our travels and post them. A lot of people really like what we do.” Mumbo said, his voice oozing with pride.

“Oh really? I do videos too! This seems like fun!” He said, listening as Mumbo described the sections this world was in, explaining that they’d be different building styles and whatnot. Grian couldn’t help the surge of excitement that flowed through his finger tips. He was a builder at heart after all, and he was over the moon in learning all this. They were just flying to the shopping district. A few buildings were already in the works, and Grian felt a surge of energy he just hadn’t had in Evo. This was all new, exciting. And he was going to have so much fun.

Grian watched as others quickly flew towards them, each and every one of them having wings. It filled his heart with relief. He wasn’t an odd one out anymore. Of course, there was someone carrying another person. Grian frowned in concern, seeing her wings were rotting and thus unable to fly.

“So Mumbo! This is the new guy?” He turned at hearing a heavily accented voice, seeing a larger man with a beard, and a visor over his eye. His wings were large and a darker brown, and yet seemed incredibly fluffy.

“Hey! I’m Grian.” He introduced.

“I’m Iskall! Nice to meet you! Your wings are amazing by the way.” He said, and Grian couldn’t help the flush that came onto his face. He wasn’t quite used to being complimented.

“You too!” He beamed. He turned as the others gathered, seeing many faces and many wings.

“How did you even get here?” A women asked. Grian looked at her. She was the one with the rotting wings. Her skin was a blue-ish gray, patched together. She looked like a zombie, the only thing bright about her was her bright orange hair.

“Uhh nice to meet you too?” Grian’s smile turned nervous as he looked the women up and down.

“Oh! My bad! I’m Cleo, Zombie Cleo!” She smiled, and Grian nodded a bit. The others introduced themselves, Grian trying to memorize names to faces. But he knew it was a fruitless endeavor.

“So mate, how did you get here?” Mumbo asked, sitting down on a rock as the others just sat on the ground.

“Yea!! Story time!!” Scar grinned as he plopped down next to Cub. Grian chuckled.

“Well. I was in my old world, we called it Evolution, or Evo for short. I was building my little town of farms and whatnot, and i heard a void. I saw this obsidian piller and thought if was the Watchers, who kind of overlook our world and make sure we’re ‘playing nice’ or whatever. I followed the pillars and the voice, when i got to this boarder wall or whatever. Sooo I… Blew it up. And walked through. Next thing I know, I wake up on your spawn island.” Grian explained calmly. He looked at the others, some who already had diamond armor. But why was it glowing like that?

“You said your world was stuck in 1.7 right?” Mumbo asked and Grian nodded, earning a few gasps from the others.

“Oh lord I’d hate being stuck in that! No beacons? No efficacy five? Awful.” Iskall sighed, and Grian stared at him.

“Wait wait what?” He asked, and a few of the Hermits jumped up, eager to brag about their loot. Grian was shown tridents, told what enchantments were, beacons, everything. His eyes were wide as he listened to everything, Doc even handing him a trident and saying to try and throw it.

Grian quickly took that opportunity, aiming high and throwing hard. Doc whistled lowly as he watched it fly. “Damn, good arm Grian.” He said, his lips pulling into an amused smile. He took off to go find it, and Grian watched the mechanical wing the man had seemingly built himself. Grian yelled a thanks at him as he flew off, and the other hermits were kind of dispersing. But a blonde women- he had learned that was Falsesymmetry-walked up to him, smiling.

“So Grian! It’s nice to finally have a new guy on the server! If you ever want a healthy match of PVP, feel free to message the queen of hearts and body parts.” He grinned with a laugh, taking off. Her wings were sleek, and yet seemed robust. The others said their goodbyes, a few giving Grian some basic starter materials of food, and some iron gear.

Grian looked over at Mumbo and Iskall, that last two standing there with him. The two smiled. “And if you want some redstone help, just give us a call! And feel free to drop by anytime. Okay?” Mumbo said, and Grian nodded.

“Yea man! Thanks!” He smiled, and the two took off. Grian quickly rushed to get resources, having already formulated a plan in his mind.

___

Grian’s plan… lead him to die many times by Drowned, thankfully he had built a little platform over the water with a bed to respawn in, but it was done. He had made a shipwreck in a bottle! And frankly, he was quite proud of himself. Grian had recorded the whole thing, even going back to the spawn so he could explain in a video what was going on. He swam into his starterbase, already planning on a megabase for this futuristic district.

He had dumped resources into his many chests, trying half hazardly to be organized with everything. But deep down he knew it would end up just like Evo; with chest monsters everywhere. He glanced down to his communicator, starting to type. He needed to figure out what the hell a conduit actually did, and had a plan to build one, but he needed a little bit of help. And one of the only people who were online were Xisuma. He sent him a quick message, going down to his farms and just collecting more food and eggs (those he was saving for Mumbo later).

Xisumavoid: Yea sure i can help you out! Just come on over.

Grian had quickly learned who his neighbors were. Mumbo, Biffa, Scar, and Xisuma. He rushed over to Mumbo’s base via the strip mine, that being the easiest way to get onto land to fly. As he ran, his mind briefly went to Taurtis. To Netty and the others. Did they miss him? Did they even realize he was gone?

“Probably not.”  Grian thought to himself, climbing up the stairs and shaking off his wings before taking off. He’d be the first to admit he was happy to be here. He could fly around without feeling like he was cheating, or that others were mad at him. The people in this world were so nice and accepting, they loved talking to one another and cracking jokes. This was the kind of environment his personality type thrived in. Fun, fast, and chaotic situations that one needed to adapt too quickly. In fact, that gave him an idea for a game they could all play.

He landed at Xisuma’s base, looking around at how organized everything seemed. Especially in comparison to his own base. But it didn’t really matter to him. He was having fun again, meeting new people and starting on new adventures. Surely the Evo gang wouldn’t mind him being gone if it meant he was having the time of his life. Right?

---

Grian finished recording, sighing as he just uploaded the footage onto his communicator to edit later. For now, Mumbo invited him over to relax for a bit (and probably to gloat about his base) and he wasn’t about to say no to something like that. He took off from his small cobblestone platform and flew the few hundred yards over to Mumbos base. He saw the raven haired man sitting on top of the structure, and he quickly landed next to him.

“Hey Mumbo!” Grian smiled, plopping down and rubbing his neck. His throat was starting to hurt again, and he had been thinking that he might have been too loud in his recording. His throat was murdering him.

“Hey Grian, you doin alright?”

“Oh yea! My throats just been a little sore for the past few days.” Grian smiled, leaning back and looking over the ocean. “But what’s up?”

“Nothing really.” Mumbo said, his voice trailing off and into a bit of an awkward silence, before the redstoner exploded, “Whatarethewatchers-?” He asked quickly, and Grian was slightly taken aback.

“What?” He laughed a bit, coughing into his arm.

“When you first came here a couple of weeks ago, you said you thought this was the fault of ‘the Watchers’. What exactly are they?” Mumbo asked, reaching into his inventory and pulling out a bottle of water, handing it to the other.

“Well… It’s a little bit of a long story.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world, mate.”

[katsukikitten]

Hewwo! I was wondering if you could do a Bakugou x Fem Athlete reader? I use to be a wrestler and when I watch bnha and see their workouts/training, it brings me back to the good times where i use to slam ppl into the floor lol (im soft i swear-). Maybe reader goes to a boot camp and doesn't see bakugo for awhile and they come back hella buffed up and can even lift Bakugou with ease, maybe they're a weightlifter?? Idk but i wanna see bakugo shook at his strong gf lol

I hope you like this my dear.

You were what most people called a behemoth.

A thick woman with muscle on an athletic build instead of thick hips. Your shoulders were broad, strong and could carry the weight of the world.

And often times it did.

It used to bother you that you were not as femme as other girls. As cutesy and petite until one day you came to the realization that you'd never look like the women on the front of magazines.

And that was a o fucking kay. And everyday since then you fought with yourself and your self image.

Because bitch you were a queen.

And being a confident cut throat queen added to your muscular stature had most *boys* avoiding you like the plague.

But that was fine because you were looking for a M! A! N!

Although you didn't know you'd find him so soon and in such an odd package.

It took one deadly smirk aimed at you for you to fall head over heels.

And it took one knockout punch for him.

Depsite the mutual feelings the two of you only ever interact or text to spar. You too worried that you're reading into his excitement too much. Thoroughly convinced he only sees you as a bro he can actually go all out with.

While he is too fucking oblivious to even realize he had feelings for you. Paying you compliments and even bragging on you in class with simple songs of praises such as "Tch. Y/LN would break your puney fucking arm in a wrestling match Kirishima!"

The doting ash blonde would eye you then, smiling proudly daring anyone to test your strength.

And double daring anyone to comment on that powerfully beautiful body of yours.

If he heard a single off colored comment or joke about you, whether you were there to defend yourself or not he would step in. Hands popping with unkempt rage as a shit eating grin erupted on his kissable lips.

The thought of him defending your honor had your cheeks burning with blush as you waltz through the thick doors of the gym, exactly where Kirishima said you could find him. Silently thankful that he is wearing headphones with music loud enough that he does not hear the door shut as you spy his damp, sculpted back pull his body upward as he counts with barely a grunt.

Well into the upper thousands as your heart flutters, body heating to the point that your kneecaps melt. Struggling to stand you turn on your heel, losing the nerve to tell him goodbye although you will only be gone for a short month. Still you wonder if you should send a text, thumbs hovering over the lit keyboard debating if he would even want to read a stupid message from a lousy extra like you.

And it wasn't like you'd get a reply while you were gone and even if you did where you were going your phone would be no better than a glorified iPod touch with the lack of signal out in bumfuck nowhereville.

You decide against it sliding your phone into your leggings pocket as you tighten the straps on your book bag setting out for what will hopefully push you in the right direction.

Camp is hard as you knew it would be. You were training with the best strength oriented quirk pro heros in the game! Sending you through grueling obstacle courses with semi truck tires and endless pits of sand and mud.

Not to mention you were pushed to the point of puking more often than not. Still you somehow made friends in between the exhausting training and gnarly cafeteria food. Laughing, helping one another and even exchanging numbers with promises to text when a mythical bar of service was found.

Cool water drips form your hair as you plop down on the bottom bunk with a sigh, your bed mate pokes her head out to look down at you. Meanwhile you stare at the last text your friend Mina had sent you for the umpteenth time this week. A photo of you and Bakugo sharing a rare laugh during training both of your cheeks flushed and hair clinging to sweating foreheads over a joke long forgotten. But the feeling would never fade.

You damn her silently for being so sneaky and sneaky enough to catch both you AND Bakugo off guard.

"You've been sighing like you're s/o is away at war!" She chides, "So who are you staring at?"

This gains the attention of the other two girls in the bunks across the way, eyes gleaming at the thought of sharing crushes. Heat flushes your skin bright pink as you attempt to lock your phone but swift hands above snatch it from your normally steely grip.

"Oh." Is all she says as she looks closely at the photo, Bakugo shirtless with, dripping with sweat and wearing his best smile as you're three quarters to the camera cheesing hard as hell.

"Well shit I'd be sighing too. Your man is hot as hell! Does he train with you?"

"A..ah he's um not.." Fear grips your windpipe as you try not to sound creepy as fuck for looking at a picture of what is only your classmate. You clear your throat, "We're just sparring partners."

"What?!" She zooms in on his face before showing it to the other girls and yourself as best she can out of your reach, "My sparring partner never smiles. Make him your man!"

"I'm not his type, Kimi!" You rush out, embarrassment having you cover your face. Shit you'd never be his type.

You couldn't imagine anything more than a petite fiery or even just plain shy girl who wore dresses and heels. A woman with all the right curves that would dangle from his arm as he showed her off. Not some brute who could practically snap any man in half.

Your heart sinks into your gut, tears threatening to spill.

"Then what's his type?" She asks dryly above you. Mind racing as you think of how Bakugo looks at the opposite sex, hell even the same sex in your class and you come up with the same face each time. He wears his ever agitated snarl and that's if he even glances their way. Scarlet eyes narrowed into slits save when the look at you. They are narrowed only from the effects of his upturned lips.

"I reckon he ain't got a type then?" She says staring down at you from over her mattress. You avoid eye contact as you speak.

"I...I just can't see him with me. I'm all bulky and burly like." You flex your banded arms for emphasis before pointing at your bunk mate above, "While you're more toned and that of a fitness magazine model."

"So what? So fucking what! Haven't you seen me oogling you all week? Or the other women who would kill to have your gains! We see it sis, we see it and stan it. You carry muscle where most women DREAM to!" She jumps from the top bunk lifting your shirt up to your sports bra," Abs bitch, you've got washboard abs! Meanwhile my stomach can barely become flat. And your back! Ugh don't get me started how you're stronger than super girl with that toned back and beautifully rounded ass. Why are you selling yourself short?"

Your lack of answer is met with a harsh slap on your stomach before the timed lights in the cabin die out.

"The first thing I want you to text me about is how you asked that hottie blonde out." She threatens before jumping to the top bunk like an agile cat.

The month ends with tight hugs and a long ride home. You welcome the scenery of the winding roads and mountains as the train speeds past, muscles screaming from the month before.

And stomach growling wanting nothing more than a home cooked meal. If you did the math right on the chore wheel. You'd be coming back to Katsuki's cooking. You slip in and out of conciousness dreaming of spicy grilled chicken.

A surprise waits for you as you get off at your stop for the train. The platform crowded with familar bodies of class 3A

as you dismount from the steps.

"WELCOME HOME Y/N!" They shout in unison as Mina and Urarka rush in for a hug. You pull away laughing before your eyes scan for a blonde and when they come up empty your stomach twists for a moment. Mina pulls your thoughts away as slips her pink arms through yours guiding you towards the exit of the train station. She fills you in on the things you'd missed that fun summer month.

Swimming, fireworks, watermelon.

All activities that they planned to do again of course, espeically now that you were back. Not to mention her now boyfriend, Kirishima who, always the gentleman, took your bags to carry on your soon to be journey down six blocks back to UA, to home.

Still you wish Bakugo would have come to greet you too, you pull out your phone for a moment. Ready to text Kimi how you were gonna be forever alone, instead you lock your phone angrily shoving it into your bag.

With each step closer towards the dorms your body becomes heavier, weighted down with your mood drop that you brush off as "I'm just tired Mina-chan" endlessly until you reach the dorms.

The class floods into the their third year dorms as the smell of food wafts over your senses, causing mixed feelings to fist fight in your stomach.

"I'm just gonna get some sparring in before dinner." You smile at Mina, as you head out clad in your ever present athleisure wear, short black shorts and a tanktop.

The outdoor punching bag takes the brunt of your anger, of your disappointment and mostly your own self loathing over being upset over your training buddy not coming to greet you.

Still it stings to know he didn't even bother to show up. Hell he didn't even greet you at the damn door to the dorms!

Arching your fist you slam it into the bag that bursts open as the chain snaps, soaring into the treeline behind the dorms. You huff, back turned before your stomach growls, begging to be fed.

You collect yourself as you hear the sliding door to the living room open.

"Oi! Y/N!" His voice comes out biting as he approaches. You look to the source damning your heart for fluttering at just the sight of him. You notice his skull shirt seems a bit tighter than when you last saw him, muscled arms flexing as he keeps his calloused hands in his pockets. Harsh eyes look you up and down. Roving over your body making you feel naked beneath their intensity as he silently assess your thick frame. Scarlet lingering on exposed soft thighs that he may or may not imagine himself between sometimes. It took the entire month of his "sparring" partner gone to realize she may have been more than just that.

He fights the blush on his cheeks before a devilish grin overtakes his normal snarl.

"Atta girl, coming back stronger than ever. Bet you kicked some ass at camp huh?" His praises has your heart soaring as your body moves on it's own. Anger melting into warmth as you scoop up the muscled man into a bone crushing hug, giggling as you swing him in a circle. That is before you realize your giddy action could make him seem weak, something Bakugo loathes. You set him down with several rushed "Sorry"s before he grips your wrist tightly. Eyes boring into yours as he struggles to keep his breathing even.

"No I should be the one who's sorry." He growls.

"For what?" He answers as he pulls you closer to him until your lips crash into his. Hands roving up your toned arms before strong fingers pull at the hair at the nape of your neck deepening the kiss while you turn into putty in popping hands. After a few moments he breaks free, looking over your stunning features.

"For not fucking doing that sooner. For not fucking realizing that I admire more than just your strength." He looks away slipping his hand into yours as he pulls you back to the dorms, "Come on! I didn't make my girl's favorite just so it could get cold damn it!"

He drags you into the house as you watch after him before you snap a photo sending it to Kimi with a caption underneath.

"He beat me to the punch."

[clareisa]

I’ll protect my Queen - mafia!AU -「I.M - Im Changkyun」

Request (requested by @xxkittenbebexx): Changkyun mafia Au, a death threat is aiming his S/O during their fiancee celebration party. Fluff could lead to smut as you want

A/N: Hope you like this one as well!♥

- gifs are not mine, credits to rightful owners

- English is not my first language, so please, excuse my mistakes

♥AUs Special Writing Season ♥

  The mansion of MX family, how they were calling themselves, was today busier than it normally is at regular days. People, that could be only dreaming to take a look into the most beautiful villa in the neighbourhood, were today running around, stress taking over them, decorating the massive building for the special event that will be taking a place this evening. The French villa was impressive by itself with all of the luxury details on walls, heavy and expensive furniture from all around the world but the exotic flowers, shinning chandeliers and the live orchestra practising for the evening were creating extraordinary and blissful atmosphere. 

  And why such a madhouse and need of everything to be perfect? Well, one of the founders and the youngest brother in MX family was going to announce that he choose a woman that will be next to his side from now on until they’ll meet again in the afterlife. That he is finally ready to officially introduce the fourth queen of the underworld of Seoul, after his three older brothers Hyungwon, Kihyun and Minhyuk did as well. And this one is going to be the biggest and the best party in the world that is highly hiding from innocent society.

  The veil of the night dropped on the city of Seoul and the villa of MX family opened the gates for special guests from all around the country and world as well. The air was filled with mystery and excitement. No one besides the seven founders and house servants ever saw the future wife of the youngest brother. 

  You were looking out of the window behind the curtain carefully so no one could see your face. Nervously you retracted the curtains fully, put your hand on your heart trying to calm down the fast beating of your heart and the buddle on nerves in your stomach. Carefully you moved in front of the golden mirror. Your eyes ran up and down your form trying to get used to the view in front of you.

   Hair slicked back making your face and neck perfectly visible and serious looking. Scarlet red lipstick making your lips plump, eyeshadow making your eyes bigger and more cat-like and highlighted cheekbones was perfectly complementing each other perfectly. Looking at the choker-like pearl necklace made you smile because it was hiding the deep red Changkyn’s marks from last night. The long off-shoulders dark emerald green dress was hugging your figure perfectly. The Bardot neckline was showing your prominent collarbones and the slit starting in the middle of your thigh was making your right leg visible. Covered in luxury but you somehow felt naked. 

  The sound of the big mahogany door of your shared bedroom slowly opened and your lover peeked throught the gap. You turned to him, he fully opened them, entered the room and closed behind him. 

  Dark midnight black hair falling to his forehead, sharp eyes and perfectly fitting suit on his lean but defined muscular body made him the man that every woman desired but he was only yours and you both couldn’t be happier about it. The big smile appearing on his handsome face makes you a little more confident in your own skin. His dreamy gaze eyeing you up and down in complete trance made all the stress disappear in a second. 

  “You are absolutely gorgeous, my love.” he said looking back into your eyes. He slowly walked to you and as he was close enough, his hands wrapped around your waist gently while your arms wrapped around his neck. 

  “You really think so?” you asked giving him a small smile. 

  “Of course, my love. I can’t wait how all women will be jealous of your beauty and grace, all men jealous of me because I’m the one who has angel by his side and just all people being blinded by your dazzling aura.” Changkyun slowly caressed your cheek in a loving manner. 

  You chuckled and looked away for a moment trying to avoid the tears, “You should stop being this perfect or I’ll ruin my makeup.” you looked at him again with, now, bright smile. 

  “You can’t cry now. Save that tears for tonight when all guests will leave.” he winked showing that arrogant sly smirk of his that could drive crazy. You playfully hit his chest but avoided eye contact by hiding your face to the curve of his neck. Changkyun chuckled and kissed the top of your head while caressing your neck saying: “You don’t need to worry. I’ll protect you for the rest of my life. I would be happier if none of that people would ever see you but I can’t make you isolated.” 

  He leaned a little back and took your cheeks to his palms, “You gave up on your daily life because of me and my lifestyle. So at least I’ll make the best of this lifestyle for you.” you nodded smiling at him and he kissed your forehead. 

  “Let’s go, shall we?” he offered you his hand which you gladly took. You swallowed all your nervousness. In the end, you were with Changkyun, nothing bad can happen to you with him by your side. 

  The walk through the corridors was surprisingly quick and you both were already on the top of the staircase ready to walk down like a royal couple. You took a deep breath looked to Changkyun’s eyes and nodded with a small smile. Changkyun gave the small orchestra a signal with nodding and they started playing some classical piece. All heads immediately turned to your direction and you two started walking down the grand staircase. As your lover said earlier, almost all women were eyeing you with jealousy that you were the one standing next to Changkyun. Some were even poking their men in a jealous manner to stop them from starring at you. The only gazes that were calming you down belonged to other six brothers and wives of three of them that become your best friends since Changkyun introduced you to them. 

  All guests followed you to the garden where the grand dinner was prepared. They all sat down only you two were standing. “Let me introduce you all to the woman I’m planning to stay beside until the day I die. As you all know we got engaged just yesterday.” he said and everyone immediately cheered. Family expansion was always a big event in the mafia world.  

  Changkyun looked at you, holding his glass of champagne. “I fell for her dearly. I was never this happy in my whole life.” you smiled at each others, “And I’m even more careful than before. I’m ready to protect this woman with all of my life and since she’ll be soon part of your family as well I expect the same from all of you.” his face smile but voice colder than ice. 

  “So now please welcome my queen, the fourth queen of Seoul underworld. Cheers!” he lifted up the glass and everyone shouted the sam response with raised glasses. You both took a sip from the expensive liquor and bowed to all people in front of you in 90 degrees as act of respect. They bowed back as a symbol of welcoming you gladly in the family. 

  The dinner was going smoothly. Everyone enjoyed the food and now they were dancing on the build dancefloor in the garden after you and Changkyun got the first song just for yourself as the official new engaged couple. You were enjoying the celebration a lot so far. People who you were introduced to you were despite their high-class snobby looks were very warm-hearted and gladly welcomed you. 

  One of the waiters came to you two and put a beautiful cake, “Mr Im, this was sent as a gift from guests that couldn’t come tonight. Please enjoy. It should be a favourite flavour of our queen, red velvet.” he smiled and slowly walked back to the mansion. You were looking at him as he was walking. You knew all employees of the mansion but you never saw this one. 

  “You should cut the cake. It is your favourite so let’s cut it and eat it until Hoseok hyung and Hyunwoo hyung will come and eat it all.” he chuckled. You nodded, still not so sure about the waiter. You stood up and started cutting the dessert. It was really weird, it felt like it was filled with something else than the normal cake. As you finished the first cut you wanted to peak what was inside. As you pulled with the knife to the side something red wet and sticky immediately leaked out of the cake right on your leg. 

  You shouted in shock and jumped back when you saw the intestines leaking out and streaming down your revealed leg. You froze, your bottom lip was shaking, you couldn’t move. It wasn’t, of course, a real cake. It was just a top of the cake with carved inside where someone put a lot of rotten human intestines. 

  Changkyun was immediately standing up. “Close all the gates! All the doors! Now! No one will get out of here until I’ll find that jerk and stuff his mouth with this!” his voice was scary and angry. Everything immediately closed and everyone stopped talking and dancing. 

  “Babe?” you heard your lovers voice next to your ear. You looked with teary eyes at him. “It will be okay...Just look at me right now, okay?” he said and you slowly nodded. He took the napkins and slowly, still looking into your eyes, took off the parts of the intestines still stuck on your leg down. You could feel some of the rotten flesh slowly sliding down your skin. But the smell... the smell almost made you gag but the calming eyes of your fiancee were keeping you from breaking down. 

  “Now we will go and wash you, okay?” he smiled a little. You swallowed and nodded. He softly lifted you up and bridal style, not caring about your legs being bloody. As he was walking he called for Jooheon and told him: “Don’t let anyone leave. Check everyone and their invitation card and find that fucker who brought that cake to us.” Jooheon nodded and all the security, all brother and even their wives started searching for the culprit. 

  You hid your face to his shoulder gripping his suit tightly in your shaking hands. He quickly took you to your bedroom and entered your bathroom. He quickly helped you out of the blood-stained dress and helped you to stand in the shower. He took the showerhead and carefully cleaned you three times, especially your legs. 

  After he finished he dressed you into your favourite pyjamas and tucked you into your shared bed between the fluffy nice smelling sheets. Your breath became calmer but your eyes were still closed tightly not wanting to open them. You felt how Changkyun sat next to you on the left side. He was looking at you with a sad expression. His phone rang and he picked the call seeing Jooheon’s name on the screen. 

  “Yeah?” he asked. 

  Jooheon on the other end said, “We found him. It was a spy from our Busan rival.” he said. You could hear it all and you choose to focus on their voices instead of the vivid memory of this evening. 

  “Good. You know what to do... change up with others every two hours. I’ll take the final shot in the morning. I think we will be sending the same gift our Busan friends sent to us. But our package will be fresher.” your lover said in a cold voice and hanged up. You gulped. You knew what he meant by that and you were always kinda scared of him when he took care of such a “businesses”. 

  You felt his body came closer to you, wrapping his hands around you tightly and put your head on his chest. He took your still shaking hand and started placing butterfly kisses all over your palm and fingers and then he put it on his hot soft cheek. 

  “Love, you can open your eyes it’s just me.” he whispered but you shook your head no. “Please baby. It’s just us two.” he said and slowly placed a gentle kiss on both of your closed eyelids. As if his lips were magical you slowly opened your eyes and saw his handsome face with a sweet smile. He was still holding your palm against his cheek, kissing it occasionally. 

  “I’m sorry, it’s my fault, love. I should have known better.” he sighed sadly.

  “It’s not your fault, Changkyun.” you smiled at him a little.

  “They will get what they deserve. Don’t worry. But I should have known something would happen.” he tried to contain his anger. 

  “You did everything, love. I’m okay. I should start getting used to this. I know it will get only worse and I want to be ready, not break down like today.” you said in now much calmer voice.  

  The man next to you couldn’t help himself and kissed you. Maybe it was partly from pity or anger but most of it was from pure love and intentions to help you feel better. You gladly welcomed his soft lips on yours and kissed him back with the burning love you have for him. Your hands went to his dark locks and gripped the roots. His hands went to your thighs and started massaging them intensely. His skilled hands went under your silk top sending shivers because his cold hands touched the hot skin of your tummy. 

  He broke the kiss and looked into your eyes, “I just wanna make you feel good, love. You don’t have to agree. I just want you to forget everything and focus on just the feeling, the pleasure. Be greedy tonight and don’t care about anything but you. What do you think?” he asked carefully. 

  You didn’t know if it’s right but you would welcome to think about something else than what happened. And Changkyun always knew what you need. So you slowly nodded making your man smile. He kissed you once again and when he broke the kiss he already got that playful but lewd spark in his eyes along with his suggestive smirk. Changkyun laid on his side, his hand slowly going between your legs and gently separated your legs apart, holding your inner thigh. His fingers started ghosting around your sensitive area, pulling the material of silky shorts to the side making you gasp a little when the tip of his fingers brushed your folds.

  “Let me take you from hell to heaven, my love.”

[thewatermelloncat]

Back to the Isle

Check out the character art I did for this here

Summary: Reader is the daughter of Scar and one of the original VKs sent to Auradon. She is asked to help them bring Mal back when she runs away to the Isle. But the reader’s intentions aren’t what the rest of the VKs initially thought…

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“Why is it my problem if she doesn’t want to live here?” you say sweeping your long hair over your shoulder, starring at your boots kicked up on your desk. Feigning uninterest.

“She’s our friend” Evie says from your doorway, tears threatening to spill out her eyes again.

“She’s your friend” you correct starting to play with the feathers at the end of the little braids in the underlayer of your hair. “You know I’ve never exactly fit in with you.”

“We need help, y/n” Evie pleads, tapping her foot impatiently against the floor. Whether or not you were going to help her, she needed to get moving soon. “Come on, just quit the front. I know you want to go.”

“Yeah I do,” your face spreads in a wide smile as you kick your feet down from the desk. “When do we leave?”

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It wouldn’t be wrong to say that your 4-inch high heel boots clomped loudly against the tiled staircase as you descended the flight down to the lobby of the dorm rooms. You could tell from Ben’s expression that he was intimidated by your appearance.

Bright green leather showed from under a ripped black leather jacket like claw marks, worn over a splotchy dark green singlet. Pants made from different sections of golden-brown shades of leather, tucked into your spiked midcalf boots. Lastly, dark green fingerless gloves with bright green knuckledusters attached to the ends like claws. You smiled down at them, your black lips stark in contrast to your bright white teeth, making your canines stand out like fangs. Your look wasn’t like the rest of theirs, perfectly tailored with added zips just to be edgy but serving no purpose. Your outfit was deadly, and if looks could kill you were going in for the slaughter.

“Well waiting around here isn’t going to bring your girlfriend back, is it?” you chirp clasping Ben on the arm as you walk past him. The bright twinkle in your eyes sets him on edge, seeming like you’re excited to be heading into your potential demise.

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It was a ridiculous notion to cover the limousine in tarpaulins and expect it to stay hidden, but it was the best they could do. Ben shivered in the darkness of the old garage under the pier, pulling his leather tighter around him as he turned around to where the cold breeze was coming from.

Away from the rest of the group finishing covering up the car, y/n stands alone looking down a large pipe, an odd smirk on her face. “What’s in here?” Ben asks coming to stand next to her.

“You don’t want to know” Jay says suddenly appearing from behind him and pulling him away from the pipe.

“Let’s get moving” Evie suggests beginning to stride off through a gap in the wall. “Y/n, you coming?” she asks when the other girl doesn’t move.

After a few seconds y/n tears her eyes away from the pipe, seemingly with great difficulty, and follows after them.

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The streets of the Isle are worse than Ben could have ever imagined, even with Mal’s descriptions. Children sleep in fraying boxes, people are passed out drunk in alleyways, and every minute or two a scream echoes from some undisclosed location.

Ben can’t help but notice it looks like his friends are walking on egg shells as they creep through the streets, even Jay who Ben hadn’t expected to see caution from. Though y/n’s body language is completely different, while the rest of them seem to shrink down into the shadows, she stands tall striding along like the place is hers for the taking.

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Ben’s heart was crushed as he walked down the metal stairs outside of Mal’s hideout. He acted on autopilot as Evie told him that she would try talking to Mal, and for now that was the hope he held onto. Though if he’s honest, he didn’t see much hope in Mal changing her mind at all. Why would she want to stay here, imprisoned on a dangerous island instead of being safe in Auradon with him, with everything she could ever ask for? It didn’t make sense to him.

Y/n smirks slightly as Ben re-joins the group, his chat with Mal clearly having not gone to plan. She had never thought it would work in the first place. Although Mal may not be her favourite person, she knows that she’s headstrong and wouldn’t change her mind over being offered a shinny gold ring and a handful of empty promises. Serves the King right to have his heartbroken, it’s a lot less painful than the lives people have to live here.

Nonetheless, when she sees Ben disappear alone down an alley, she pushes off the wall she was leaning against, rolling her eyes as she follows behind him.

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“I know you’re the King but you can’t walk off alone” y/n says as she catches up to Ben as he exits the alley into the market place. “If you think these people like you or respect you, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“Why doesn’t she want to come back?” is all that he says in return.

“Did you not hear what I said?” y/n checks, becoming frustrated at his lack of forethought. “It’s dangerous here, you can’t walk around alone.”

“Especially if you’re the King” a heavily accented voice enters the conversation as its owner steps out of the shadows.

Ben stumbles back in fright at the tall boy in a red leather jacket standing dangerously close to him, unbeknownst right into the arms of two other boys who had closed in behind him. He struggles against their grip on his arms. “Y/n, help!” he pleads to the girl who ignores him, seeming to be having a silent conversation with the boy in the leather jacket.

Suddenly she smiles and laughs throwing herself into him, and he laughs manically before their lips lock together. Instantly his hands go around her tracing along her body from her jaw down her neck and her chest to her waist. Her hands go up his neck and into his hair as their lips work passionately against each other. He takes hold of her leg and pulls it up to his waist, she hooks it around his back and lifts her other leg off the ground latching it onto him as well. Ben senses the boys behind him watching with interest as they smile and chuckle to each other, seeming like they are enjoying the show. But Ben feels sick as he watches her abandon him.

After what seems like an eternity the two break away and the boy turns to boys restraining Ben, “take ‘im to the ship.”

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“Maybe she’s with him?” Carlos suggests in an attempt to calm Evie as she paces frantically at the base of the stairs.

“Should we tell Mal?” Jay asks hesitantly, already fearing how she will react.

“No” Evie immediately shakes her head. “Not until we know for sure that something bad has happened to him.”

“So, you don’t think Mal would lose her shit if she found out that you didn’t immediately tell her about Ben going missing?” y/n says as she steps out of the alley. Harry at her side walking hand in hand.

“Harry” Evie breathes, her and the boys stepping into a tightly formed group for defense.

“What did you do with Ben?” Jay demands puffing his chest up as he looks at Harry.

Harry does nothing but laugh at the pitiful display of dominance, while y/n glares at Evie who is looking at her accusingly.

“What? You think that I augustrated this?” y/n raises an eyebrow at her. “I was in Auradon with you!”

“And did you?” Evie crosses her arms and leans her weight on her hip.

“Nah” y/n shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders, “I just didn’t argue when it did.”

“Y/n, step away from him” Jay says in a tone aiming to control her, eyes locked in a glaring match with Harry.

Y/n takes pride in the fact that Harry’s hand doesn’t tighten around her own, him not doubting her loyalty. She doesn’t move and though Carlos can see she doesn’t intend to, he tries his hand at one last-ditch effort.

“You can’t go” he begs. “You don’t have to go back to being bad.”

Y/n’s face spreads in a wide smirk and the chuckles that shake her shoulders morph into a maniacal laughter that bounces off the walls of the alley. “That’s where you’re wrong… I always was.”

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Ben had been watching puddles form from water dripping from the ceiling above him for what seemed like hours. The depths of the ship were damp and dark, the only light coming from a few faded lanterns that hung from the walls around him. About five minutes ago he had heard a mighty cheer sound through the floor boards as someone appeared to be welcomed onto the ship, but that had since faded into the back of his mind. It didn’t mean much to him until he saw who it was that walked through the door.

“I don’t understand” he says blankly.

“The world is complicated” y/n states coming to sit on a crate in front of him, casually kicking one leg over the other.

“Who are these people and how do you know them?”

Y/n chuckles darkly seeming to ignore him. “You know it’s cute that you ask about my life only when your life depends on it.”

Ben’s fearful look deepens as she speaks her next words.

“This is my old crew.”

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“What you need to know is this place is hell” y/n begins. “Our parents want us to be independent, to not rely on anyone, but you’d be an idiot if you did it alone.”

Ben shifts, sitting up straighter against the post he’s tied against. Something in his eyes tells y/n that he is interested in this for more than diplomatics.

“Uma found me when I was 11. Found myself in a bad place...” Y/n trails off for a moment it being clear that she doesn’t want to continue. “She took me in and didn’t ask any questions. Gave me a home and food – a safe place. In exchange I would work for her. Same with everyone else on this ship.”

“What kind of work would you do for her?” Ben inquires.

“You really didn’t research me, did you?” y/n kicks her legs forward and leans back on her hands like she owns the situation. “Put it this way. If you knew the things that I’ve done, you would have never let me step foot in Auradon.”

“But in Auradon you seemed like such a good person” Ben stutters in disbelief.

“I’m a master manipulator, Ben” she says bluntly. “It’s what we’re taught here.”

“But you can change. You can be that person you were in Auradon” he tells her adamantly.

“I can’t” she shakes her head. “… I won’t.”

“Why not?” it almost sounds like he’s whining.

“Because I don’t want to” y/n snaps at him, leaving them in a long silence.

“Who was that boy?” Ben voices quietly after a while. “The one with the red coat in the market. You seemed rather fond of him.”

Y/n scoffs, a smile appearing on her face, “Harry.”

“Who is he?”

“He’s Uma’s first mate” she says with a proud look in her eyes.

“And who is he to you?”

“We’re in a partnership.”

“A partnership?” the pitch of Ben’s voice raises in confusion and he furrows his brow. “Like an alliance or you’re dating?”

“No one dates on the Isle, Ben” she tells him seriously. “At least not around here. We belong to each other.”

Ben goes silent while he considers something. “Come back with me” he says looking back up at y/n still lounging on the crate in front of him. “Untie me and this will all be forgiven.”

“Why would I come back with you? I’ve made my alignment pretty clear” she fights back the temptation to laugh at his stupidity.

“I’ll let Harry come back with us.”

Y/n laughs dismissively, actually sounding joyful. Her smile showing off her fanglike teeth. “Harry would rather die than go to Auradon.”

“Well, then you can choose someone else to come back with you. Do you have any siblings?”

The pitch of her laugh changes at his offer, the dark sound filling the room. “Your bribery won’t work on me. How many times do I have to tell you?” y/n pauses crossing a leg over the other like she wasn’t planning on moving anytime soon. “I’m not going back.”