#but somebody READ OVER my work and decided to take no points off. despite me openly NOT implementing a significant part of the assignment

[scholarhect]

lol i got a 98 on the assignment i didn’t finish and should’ve gotten at most an 83 on. i <3 end of semester struggle grading 🥰

[yellowocaballero]

hyped for claude story, just from the little blurb and ur tags it looks like its gonna be hysterical

I'm gonna be real man. Is there tight plot? No. Is there anything other than dialogue? Of course not. Is it fast paced? You don't even need to ask. But it is the unwilling recipient of months of my insanity, and for that purpose I admire its resilience. It works because it is also the story of one boy slowly descending into absolute insanity.

I think people sometimes think of Claude as the comic relief and 'only sane man' in the leaders. This is untrue. He's fucking nuts. Imagine if a Japanese-American read a lot of websites on Japan and decided to move to Japan, pretend he was fully Japanese despite obviously being half-White, had been there the entire time, and became Emperor of Japan. He's living his best Dancing With Wolves life. My first decision of the story was that Claude probably didn't call himself his white people name/alias in his head, and that ended up changing a lot. I think if you take a different perspective of him, and decide to understand him a certain way, he becomes absolutely the most bugfuck and interesting character in FE3H.

All three House leaders pretend to be good people and, in fact, are actually pretty shitty people (except for Yuri, who pretends to be a bad person and is an actual angel). Claude is selfish, self-centered, and apathetic. Claude here is actually worse than in canon - for actual reasons that will become clear around 75k into the story. Weekenders was about somebody who saved lives but doomed souls; Rosetta Headstone is about somebody who saved souls but doomed themselves. I think the ending of both stories reflects that.

Anyway, meanwhile Byleth is living her New Game+ and she is killing it.

Also, transcript of that text under the cut - it's a bit long for alt text.

Byleth walked through the door. The bucket of water fell on her head. She had been absolutely drenched. 

Byleth had blinked at them, water dripping in rivulets across her hair. Most of the class was laughing their ass off, even Khalid. An absolutely atrocious first impression on their teacher, but the students had successfully won dominance. They had driven away their first teacher in tears and they could do the same to this one. Every student in the class either hated to work (Hilda and Marianne, for surprisingly identical reasons), hated being told what to do (Leonie, Lorenz, Lysithea), or went along with the rest (Ignatz and Raphael). There had been no intention of bowing down to an authority figure. What were they, the Blue Lions? Bootlickers?

“Is there a leak?” Byleth asked. 

The laughter died. Everybody stared at Byleth. Byleth tilted her head. 

Slow, tremulous, Ignatz pointed at the bucket. Byleth looked down, squinting.

“Oh. Why was that there?”

Straight faced, Hilda said, “Maybe the custodian left it.”

“Okay.” Byleth had walked forward, taking her place in the front of class. She bowed, a little stiff and awkward. “Hello. I’m your teacher. Please treat me well.” She looked up, eyes crinkling faintly in what Khalid would come to recognize as her edition of a smile. “I’m happy to be here.”

The tone was set. Byleth was unflappable. 

Salt in her coffee? She drank it all without flinching. Hidden alarm clock set to ring during class? She found it instantly. Frogs labeled 1, 2, and 4 in the classroom? Byleth sadly noted that 3 must have been eaten by a hawk, and she spent the rest of the class delighting over her shiny new frogs. Watching her feed the frogs little worms was adorable. It was so cute that the pranks stopped. Nobody could stomach it anymore. She was too innocent. 

Khalid, famous for his honest, straightforward, and upfront nature, hated liars. And Professor Byleth was stinking of deceit. Nobody was that adorable. She had a plot and he would sniff it out. 

[sandcobangevent]

the case of the mysterious test

by Badger and @alecs-potatofarm

The thing about being friends with Sherlock is that you can’t really keep anything from him. Most of the time that doesn’t bother me. I’m an open book, me. Besides, he’s my best friend. There are very few things I wouldn’t tell him. But it’s exactly because he’s my best friend that this one particular thing was off limits. At least until I worked out what, if anything, I was going to do about my feelings for him. But, despite my best efforts, he figured out I was hiding something anyway.

When we first started living together I’d only ever had relationships with women. Of course, I watched The Mummy and thought Brendan Fraser was fit. But didn’t everyone? I thought Sherlock, with his dimples and stuff, was just another one of those people everybody could agree on. 

The longer we lived together the more I started to wonder whether it might be more than just a passing attraction. The fact I didn’t move out as soon as I opened our freezer to grab some Phish Food and found nothing but an empty tub was proof of…something. I just didn’t know what exactly. So I turned to the old reliable—the internet.

I posted on Reddit about mostly liking women but having some pretty confusing feelings for this one guy who’s my best mate. I don’t live under a rock, I know what bisexuality is. I just didn’t necessarily think that word applied to me. Some of the forums were more useful than others, but none of them gave me concrete answers. 

One user replied with a link that read ‘Am I Gay? Quiz’ so I decided to click on it. Even though, obviously, an online quiz couldn’t tell me one way or the other if I was in love with Sherlock I thought the questions might at least point me in the right direction. 

The first question was difficult. Have you ever had feelings for a same-gender close friend? If I knew that I wouldn’t have been taking the quiz in the first place. The second question was easier. Have you ever kissed someone or wanted to kiss someone of the same gender? I thought about the way Sherlock pouted when he was thinking about a particularly tricky part of a case and selected ‘I haven’t done it, but I want to try it’.

The rest of the questions asked me about my dating history, my friends, and how I’d feel if somebody assumed I was gay. I fudged the last answer because it asked me about my ‘For You Page’ but didn’t give me an option to say ‘I’m too old for TikTok’ then I hit submit. Instead of giving me a result right away it asked for my phone number. I should have just closed the tab and satisfied my curiosity elsewhere rather than handing over my personal data but…I didn’t.

————————————-

An hour later I was pacing around the kitchen waiting for a pan full of water to boil for some tomato penne pasta when my phone went off. The screen lit up, my phone vibrating on the table. Sherlock glanced down at it before I had a chance to move it out of view. 

“Your test results are here,” he read aloud. “What test results?”

I tried to play it cool while I moved toward him,  grabbed my phone and shoved it in my pocket. “It’s nothing important, mate. Just a silly Buzzfeed quiz. Me and Maz wanted to know what…uh…pasta shape we were.”

“You wanted to know…what pasta shape you are?”

“Yeah. She says she’s ravioli but I personally think she’s more of a fusilli. I’m lasagne, obviously. Sturdy. Dependable. Comforting.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“You know…”

I made some vague gestures, trying to capture Mariana’s vibe through arm movements. I probably looked as ridiculous as I felt. Sherlock raised an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth twitched into an involuntary smile. 

“I really don’t.”

“It’s…” I pushed my hair back from my face. “It’s nothing. Like I said, just a silly Buzzfeed quiz.”

Sherlock looked me up and down, examining me with those piercing blue eyes of his while drumming his long fingers on the table. “If it’s so silly why do you feel the need to lie to me about it?”

“Why do you think I’m lying?”

“Your breathing is heavier. You’re shifting your body weight from one foot to another and, perhaps most importantly, you looked at the bag of penne pasta on the side over there before you told me what the topic of the quiz was.”

I should have known that Sherlock would notice. After all, our podcast wouldn’t exist without him being remarkably observant. It hit me pretty quickly that a certain amount of honesty was the best policy. 

“I’m not lying it’s just…personal. Alright? I don’t really want to get into it just yet.”

“What kind of test result would be so personal you wouldn’t want to tell me but also so informal that you’d receive the results by text?”

“You tell me, mate.” 

“Mmm, I have some theories but nothing immediately comes to mind. I like this. The case of the mysterious test results.”

With that, Sherlock left the kitchen. I sat down on one of the dining table chairs and slumped over with a groan, holding my face in my hands. I knew that if I did decide to tell Sherlock how I felt that it would require a lot of sensitivity. This was so far from how I wanted him to find out. I thought about my options, weighing up the benefits of coming clean versus coming up with a more convincing excuse for the text.

There was one thing I knew I had to do for sure, so I pulled my phone out of my pocket and deleted the text without clicking on the link. I didn’t need the results of a mostly arbitrary and completely made up quiz to tell me how I felt about Sherlock. The way my heart pounded in my chest as I tried to calm my breathing and top my body from shaking was all the proof I needed. 

[mintedwitcher]

on the subject of AO3 comments actually, I didn't want to put this in the tags of that last post but like. not a fucking day goes by now that I don't think about this one particular comment somebody left on one of my merthur fics from like, two years ago.

it was for Judge Not in My Absence, and in it, I BRIEFLY mention that Gwen - in this au version of events - chose not to marry Arthur and instead became a midwife (I used the wrong term in the fic but tbh I am too lazy to go back and change it, though I probably will at some point; I referred to her as a wetnurse) for the women in the lower town. I needed her to have a childcare related job for a spin off I was planning at the same time in the same au. Nothing disparaging was said about Gwen (love her) or about midwives or anything.

this one commenter came in, and said "I really think you should look up the history of black women and wetnurses, it's not pretty."

I think about that comment every day.

yes, I am aware of the history, but I didn't pick that career for Gwen because of her ethnicity. I picked it because I needed her to be in relation to childcare for a reason. not just casual proximity to a child, but in childcare, involved in it, emotionally invested in it. could I have done a better job at explaining that? yes, definitely. could I have picked a better career for Gwen? probably, I'm not sure. I could've had her pick up work as a seamstress as she did in canon, or take over her father's forge as a blacksmith, I suppose, but neither of those would've given the same incentive to the spin off I wrote for her path. so yes, I went with midwifery. it just made the most sense to me at the time.

that comment, though, has stuck with me for two years. I didn't delete it because, well, it was a fair concern, shared without malice or insult, and there was nothing really to be angry about. I understand why the comment was left in the first place. and I still think about it daily.

the point I'm trying to make here, and doing a horrible job of, is that the stuff you leave in comments has an impact on the writers who receive those comments. it may not be the impact that you intended when you made the comment. I don't know what that particular commenter intended when they made the comment on my fic, but it has stuck with me for two years, and it has undoubtedly made me more conscious of the choices I make in my writing. because I don't want to receive that kind of comment again, but I know that I probably will. I'm not so arrogant to assume that I'll never write anything off-kilter or inconsiderate or insensitive ever again, despite my best intentions.

you can't please everyone, as a writer, and you shouldn't strive to. that's how you end up with tropey, incoherent writing projects. all you can do is write what you want, write what you would be happy to read, and hope that like-minded readers find it enjoyable too.

as a commenter, though. know that your words have an impact, for good or ill, and its up to you to decide what kind of impact you want to make. a negative or cruel comment at just the wrong time can be the thing that makes a writer quit writing. a positive, uplifting, or even constructively critical comment (like the one I've been thinking about) can be the thing that encourages a writer to keep going, because at least they know that someone has enjoyed what they've written.

tldr; don't be an ass when you leave comments, you never know what kind of impact it'll have.

[caitimetravels]

she’s insignificant

chapter 3: the dangers inside

the umbrella academy x reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: swearing, mentions of death

masterlist

y/n stared at the blue energy in the courtyard before deciding to join her siblings as they rushed to see what it was. as she ran down the stairs she caught sight of klaus holding a fire extinguisher.

"what are you doing?" she caught up with him.

"something" he shrugged, bursting out the door first. "out of the way!"

"thats not going to- klaus what the hell?" y/n went to stop him only to watch as he tried to extinguish the mass of energy. she shook her head in disbelief, stepping beside vanya.

klaus chucked the extinguisher when he realised it wouldn't work.

"what is that gonna do?" allison shouted over the loud noise. klaus threw his hands up.

"i don't know. do you have a better idea?" he stepped back in surprise as another flash came from the portal. luther pulled klaus back.

"everyone get behind me!" and in true sibling rivalry diego nodded, shielding vanya and y/n.

"yeah, get behind us!"

they watched, brows furrowing at the familiar figure that dropped to the ground. as they stepped closer the vortex disappeared.

"is that-?" y/n looked up at vanya, peeking around diego to see.

there, in a too large sized suit, stood their missing brother. he pushed himself to his feet taking in their appearance.

"does anyone else see little number five is that just me?" klaus questioned as they walked closer. the said boy stared down at himself in confusion before looking back at them.

"shit" he cursed.

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

they all moved back into the kitchen, letting five do as he pleased while he explained what he needed to.

he placed a chopping board and knife on the table while the others stood at the other end. y/n stood off to the corner, not entirely comfortable with them after being accused of murder. "what's the date? the exact date"

five walked around, grabbing bread to make himself a sandwich. vanya answered, "the 24th"

"of what?" five pushed walking back over.

"march"

"good" he pulled out two pieces of bread, laying them on the chopping board.

"so, are we going to talk about what just happened?" luther raised an eyebrow, expectantly but five stayed silent. "its been 17 years!" luther stood, frustrated but five wasn't taking any of his bullshit.

"it's been a lot longer than that" the shorter boy walked towards him before blinking behind him to grab the marshmallows. luther sighed,

"i haven't missed that"

"where'd you go?" diego piped up, unfazed.

"the future" five sighed, "and it's shit by the way" he opened up the bag of marshmallows.

"called it!" klaus raised his finger.

"do you want one?" five looked up at y/n, referring to the sandwich, a soft gleam in his eyes. the others shared a look, of course he had only missed her. she gently shook her head with a small smile. "i should have listened to the old man" five walked to the fridge, pulling out a jar. "he knew. travelling through space is one thing, travelling through time is a toss of the dice"

he paused as he opened the peanut butter, looking up at them again before noticing klaus' attire. "nice dress"

"oh, danke" klaus twirled loose material around. allison rolled her eyes.

"how did you get back?"

"in the end i had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time" he continued making his sandwich like he hadn't just shocked them.

"that makes no sense" diego scoffed,

"well, it would if you were smarter" five shrugged, ignoring the way diego stood up to fight him. luther held him back.

"did you put a decimal point in the wrong spot?" y/n asked, surprising the others. she crossed her arms, thinking "it was probably a miscalculation in your proof of the existence of a bound for the number of limit cycles of planar polynomial vector fields of fixed degree."

five paused, thinking it over before realising she was right. "it should have been 0.57" he mumbled.

"how long were you there?" luther changed the subject, obviously confused.

"45 years" five went back to his sandwich making. "give or take"

everyone sat back down in shock.

"so what are you saying? that you're 58?!" luther narrowed his eyes in disbelief. there was no way.

"no" five looked up, speaking through gritted teeth. "my consciousness is 58. apparently my body is now 16 again"

"how does that even work?" vanya croaked out, still shocked at the situation.

"delores kept saying the equations were off" five shrugged, stepping away and looking off into the distance as he took a bite of his sandwich. "bet she's laughing now"

"delores?" vanya asked. y/n froze, he had kept her? at the girl's movement, or lack thereof, allison looked over at her, raising her eyebrows.

y/n shook her head, waving it off.

five picked up the newspaper on the table, staring at the picture of their father.

"hm.. guess i missed the funeral"

"how'd you know about that?" luther questioned, defensive.

"what part of the future do you not understand?" five narrowed his eyes, slightly amused by his brothers incompetence. "heart failure, huh?"

"yeah-" diego started only to be cut off by luther.

"no" there was silence for a moment before a kitchen knife stabbed into the table beside luther's hand.

"if i had murderous intent, luther, you'd be the first on my list" y/n scoffed, walking out.

they all stared after her in shock.

"nice to see nothing's changed" five sighed before following her out.

"thats it?" allison asked, turning towards him as he walked. "thats all you have to say?"

"what else is there to say? circle of life" he called back.

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

vanya walked up to five in the parlour where he stood staring at his painting.

"nice to know dad didn't forget me" five turned to her, "read your book by the way.. found it in the library that was still standing"

he started to walk around, noticing y/n sitting on the balcony above. she had her legs dangling through the bars, calmly reading a book. he turned back to vanya.

"thought it was pretty good, all things considered" he stared her down, "definitely ballsy, giving up the family secrets. sure that went over well"

"they hate me" vanya frowned,

"well there are worse things that can happen" five was obviously trying to cheer her up, in his own way.

"you mean like what happened to ben?" there was a pause, both thinking it over.

"was it bad?" five asked softly, he knew y/n was still listening. he heard the faint sound of a book shutting. he looked away as vanya nodded.

"y/n had a hard time dealing with it.. the worst of all of us. dad forbid her from going on missions after her reaction.."

"her reaction?" five turned back, eyebrows furrowing, this wasn't in vanya's book.

"she nearly tore our souls out.. she was devastated and couldn't control her emotions. dad said it helped her though, something about a new ability. he trained her alone from then, forcing her to find you" vanya shrugged, sighing, going silent.

"find me?" five pushed, "what do you mean find me?"

"she said she did.. did she not?" vanya looked surprised now.

"no, no she did.. just didn't stay long is all" five shook his head, frowning.

"yeah well, they stopped trying when she lied to dad"

"she lied?" five looked back up at where she was previously sitting but now she was gone, the only thing left behind was her book and a wisp of smoke.

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

"ben.. i'm- i'm scared" eight sat cross legged in front of his statue. "my powers are getting stronger and i'm scared to hurt the others. i wish you were still here" she refused to cry no matter how much she wanted to. she couldn't let the same thing happen.

"i'm scared ben. what if i can't control it? what if hurt somebody? you're not here to help me and i-.. it hurts sometimes. dad doesn't understand, he never did but it hurts to suppress my emotions like he wants me to. we try so hard and he still never thinks we're enough.." she paused, pulling her knees up to her chest. "what if i am weak? what if he's right?"

unbeknownst to her ben's ghost sat beside her. "you're not weak" he shook his head, moving to look at her face. "you'll never be weak, you're so strong. please keep being strong for me" he pleaded with her as she continued to blame herself. he hated this. he hated not being there for her. he just wanted her to be okay.

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

y/n walked beside five, standing under his umbrella with him. they didn't speak as they walked back out into the courtyard. the siblings all stood in line with luther in front of them, carrying their dad's ashes.

"did something happen?" grace looked at them all, smiling despite the occasion. they all looked up at her.

"dad died.." allison answered, confused. "remember?"

"oh, yes of course" grace nodded, expression turning more somber.

"is mom okay?" allison asked, now worried about how grace was acting.

"yeah, yeah she's fine" diego quickly defended, "she just needs to rest, you know, recharge" allison looked incredulous but dropped it nonetheless.

pogo stepped forwards, looking up at luther. "whenever you're ready, dear boy"

luther breathed out, opening the lid and dropping the ashes in a pitiful pile. they all frowned.

"probably would have been better with some wind" luther griped,

"does anyone wish to speak?" pogo ignored it, looking at the rest of them. everyone stayed silent, looking away. "very well.. in all regards, sir reginald hargreeves made me what i am today, for that alone i shall forever be in his debt. he was my master and my friend and i shall miss him very much.." he paused, "he leaves behind a complicated legacy-"

"he was a monster" diego cut off, still staring down at the ashes. klaus laughed. "he was bad person and a worse father. the world's better off without him-"

"diego" allison scolded, glaring at him in surprise.

"my name is number two. you know why?" he looked over at her. "because our father couldn't be bothered to give us actual names, he had mom do it"

"would anyone like something to eat?" grace asked, smiling again, unaware of what was happening.

"no, its okay mom" vanya denied, albeit confused.

"oh, okay"

"look, you wanna pay your respects" diego stepped out in front of them, "go head, but at least be honest about the kind of man he was" he looked at pogo now.

"you should stop talking now" luther warned, anger growing. diego glared at him for a moment before fully turning to face him.

"you know, you of all people should be on my side here, number one"

"i am warning you-" diego ignored him,

"after everything he did to you" y/n sighed, crossing her arms to her chest, fighting wasn't going to fix any of them. klaus and five shared a look. "he had to ship you a million miles away"

"diego stop talking-" luther tried again. diego was definitely hitting a nerve. he jabbed a finger into luther's chest.

"that's how much he couldn't stand the sight of you!" luther grabbed his arm and swung at his head. diego ducked. they begun fighting while everyone else backed away.

"boys! stop this at once!" pogo attempted to stop them, moving back despite this.

klaus held an arm out to shield five and y/n. the former slapped it away. they continued to fight, diego egging him on and landing several punches. klaus began to chant while vanya yelled at them to stop.

"klaus" y/n warned, gaining both his and five's attention. her eyes were turning black, she was struggling.

"y/n? are you okay?" five hadn't been there, he didn't know what she would do if she lost control. pogo walked away, not wanting to stay. klaus nervously watched y/n while the others watched luther and diego fight.

"i don't have time for this" five sighed, beginning to walk away, leaving y/n with klaus under his small pink umbrella.

that was when it happened. y/n froze as they knocked ben's statue.

"aw" klaus complained while allison glared at them.

"and there goes ben's statue"

"klaus?" y/n's voice scared them all. she sounded weak. she gripped his jacket, tightly. "klaus"

"what's wrong?" he looked down at her, watching as she fought her emotions. her eyes were turning black but she kept fighting it.

diego pulled out his knife and vanya's shouting at him to stop made it harder for y/n to calm herself. he threw it at luther, cutting his arm.

"klaus" she called again and he held her arm unsure of what to do. "i-i can't.. i can't-" she let out a pained whine as her eyes darkened, she was letting go. suddenly diego and luther let out shouts of pain.

"what's going on?!" allison watched them, confused and distraught. vanya quickly left their mother's side, pulling y/n into her.

"its okay, you're okay" vanya whispered to her, trying to calm her. "it can be fixed, you're okay, just relax. try to relax" listening to vanya's heartbeat she slowly calmed down, the blackness of her eyes seeping away and diego and luther straightened, no longer in pain.

y/n stared at them in shock and guilt before shaking her head and running inside. she locked herself in her room again. she was truly a demon.

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

one by one the siblings left, y/n watched sadly as they all abandoned her again. she was always left alone, the family problems only got bigger when they got together. she sighed, maybe she was better off alone.

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

y/n looked up from her book as she heard frantic footsteps around the mansion. peeking out her door she noticed vanya slowing down in front of five's room.

"oh thank god" she disappeared through his doorway but y/n could still hear her voice. "i was worried sick about you"

five had talked to vanya? why hadn't he come to her?

"sorry i left without saying goodbye" five's voice answered softly. what had he been doing? y/n quietly left her room to hear better. she wanted to be apart of her brother's plans too. she didn't want to be left out anymore.

"no, i'm the one that should be sorry. i was dismissive and i guess i didn't know how to process what you were saying.." vanya paused, "i still can't to be honest"

"maybe you were right to be dismissive" five huffed, that didn't sound like him at all? what was he really doing? "maybe it wasn't real after all.. it felt real. but well, like you said the old man did say time travel could contaminate the mind"

well vanya referred him to a therapist y/n tried to sense the room. something else was going on. carefully using her power she felt another person.. klaus. when vanya walked out y/n quickly turned to smoke, gliding along the floor, past five who watched vanya leave. klaus pulled himself out of the closet.

"that's so touching, all that stuff about family and dad and time"

"will you shut up? she'll hear you" five warned him, walking back over.

"you're lying to vanya?" y/n appeared next to klaus, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

"it's nothing you should worry about" five dismissed before looking klaus over again. "i thought i told you to put on something professional"

"what? this my nicest outfit" klaus gestured to it. y/n snorted when five scoffed.

"we'll raid the old man's closet"

"whatever, as long as i get paid" klaus shrugged, beginning to walk behind five.

"when the job is done" they stopped just above the stairs.

"so, where are we going?" she followed along, smiling innocently at five who raised an eyebrow at her.

"not we, just klaus and i" five shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"five" she frowned,

"y/n" he mocked.

"just let me come, please don't leave me in the dark. i just want to help you" she pleaded, she had missed him.

he thought it over before sighing, "fine" he turned to walk again but klaus stopped him.

"but just so we're clear on the finer details" he waved his hand around, talking over the plan. "i just got to go into this place and pretend to be your dear old dad, correct?"

"yeah, something like that" five agreed, exasperated.

"what's our cover story?" klaus continued, ignoring five's look of annoyance.

"what? what are you talking about?" five shared a confused look with y/n who shrugged.

"i mean was i young when i had you, like 16.. like young and terribly misguided" five agreed just to get him to stop but he didn't. "your mother, that slut, whoever she was, we met at.. the disco and you can be his sister"

"i am his sister?" y/n raised an eyebrow, but klaus only smiled, clicking his fingers.

"okay, remember that. oh my god the sex was amazing"

y/n scoffed, walking away first, five following. "what a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain"

"don't make me put you in time out" klaus waved a finger at him.

as they walked out the door onto the street y/n paused.

"what's wrong, baby sis?" klaus asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "you're not backing out already?"

"no!" she quickly denied, looking up at him as she snapped out of her starstruck daze. "it's just.. i haven't left the house in 16 years.."

klaus and five shared a sorrowful look. what had happened to her?

tags: @rxses-and-reverie

[forever-rogue]

hi! if you’re accepting requests from prompt list #2, does angst to fluff count lol. 5 from angst, 49 from fluff lists! with reader thinking din loves someone else 🥺 i like mando x omera but.. reader who perhaps doesnt have the skills omera has and sees how din looks at her… THE ANGST 😌🤌

AN | Me, writing some Din? It’s been a hot minute, but here we are. I miss him 🥺

Warnings | None

Pairing | Din x Fem!Reader

Masterlist | Din, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A small sigh, a wistful little thing, escaped your lips as you studied the gently lapping water of the lake. It was calm here, a peaceful, tranquil place that served as a welcome refuge after all that you'd been through in the last few years. Sometimes it seemed almost too good to be true. The distant sounds of laughter met your ears as children ran around and played, carefree as could be. Sometimes you wished you were that young again; innocent to life’s darker sides. Unfortunately that wasn’t a possibility, but for now you’d take the peace and stillness you could get.

Pulling off your boots and socks, you quickly tossed them to the side. The water was warm as you relaxed and leaned back, closing your eyes and soaking up the warmth of the summer sun. It wasn’t until you heard the familiar voice that your eyes slowly snapped back opened. Your heart constricted slightly as you spotted Din nearby speaking to Omera. He seemed so happy, in a much better mood than you’d seen in a long time. It was all her, and you remained invisible. Which, when it came to most things wasn’t too bad, but sometimes you wished he would see you.

“Is somebody jealous?” you hadn’t even heard the bounty hunter walk over; you supposed that’s one of the many reasons he was the best in the galaxy. Boba offered a small grimace before sitting down next to you. You shrugged him off staring back into the water. You were not about to get into anything with Boba; that man was insufferable and usually right.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you brushed him off, trying desperately not to look back at Din. Instead, you focused on the water and watched the tiny fish whiz through the water; a few of them brushed by your feet, sending a ticklish shiver up your spine, “I’m just...enjoying the calm afternoon sun and soaking up as much peace before we inevitably leave again.”

“That’s how this all works,” Boba sighed as you nodded in agreement, “you knew that from the day you became my apprentice.”

“I know,” you whispered, “but I hoped at one point I could...walk away and have a normal life. Like this.”

“Normal is all relative,” he had a point as you huffed lightly and stood up, brushing off your pants and reaching for your boots, “but if this is what you want, what you truly want, you know you’re welcome to leave whenever. I would not hold you back from the life you wanted.”

“I know, Boba,” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, “the problem is that I don’t really know what I want...I think I know but...it’s more than that.”

“Of course,” he agreed, casting a quick glance at the object of your affections before turning back to you, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Either way, it will work out, just as it always does,” you swallowed the lump that had welled up in your throat, “Boba, why are you doing this?”

“I just want to make sure you’re happy - that you know that you have choices in what you’re doing,” he said like it was no big deal, but to you it meant so much. This hardened, sometimes gruff man really did have a heart of gold underneath it all, “should you want to part ways, I would understand. Should you want to stay, I’d be more than happy to have you with me. I don’t know what the future holds for myself, Fennec, or Djarin, but you know it will not always be easy. But sometimes you have to decide what’s most important.”

“Yes,” you answered softly, “thank you, Boba.”

He remained silent as you laced up your boots before padding away, back towards the village. You knew you had a lot to think about and if you wanted things to change at all, you’d have to figure out something. You cast a glance over your shoulder and you were almost positive that you’d spotted Din looking in your direction. But it was all a trick of the mind; it had to be. Why would he spare you more than a passing thought anyways?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late by the time he found you; much later than any reasonable person should have been outside, but you couldn’t sleep. There was too much on your mind to silence, and if you managed to, it was short-lived and another thought came to replace the previous one. Eventually you’d given up and wandered out of the small hut home that had been acting as your own home for the last couple of months. You knew the area was safe and wanted to enjoy the temperate night air before it turned to a crisp fall breeze, or worse - you’d be gone.

Small bugs chirped happily along with the soft songs of nightbirds as you walked around the sleeping village; you weren’t scared here, you felt safe and at home. But as you rounded a corner, a gloved hand reached out and grabbed your wrist. A small yelp of surprise left your lips as you pulled into a wall of cool metal - beskar.

“Shhh,” Din placed a finger to his lips as you relaxed when you realized it was him, “you’ll wake everyone up. It’s just me.”

“Dank Farrik!” you hissed at him, “how was I supposed to know that? You could have been a murderer!”

“Well….you should be in bed sleeping.”

“So should you!” your arms crossed over your chest as you stared him down, and eventually he huffed in defeat, realizing you were right. He couldn’t sleep either, plagued by the choices he knew that he had to make sooner rather than later. He hadn’t expected you to be out as well, “what are you doing anyway?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck nervously, a flash of...something in his dark eyes, “I thought that some fresh air would clear my head.”

“Same here,” you admitted reluctantly, leaving the two of you in an awkward silence. You wished you had enough bravery (or perhaps even stupidity) in your body to just say something to him then and there. At least it would be out of the way; but you weren’t feeling anything but nervous butterflies fluttering in your tummy, “I...umm...I guess I’ll get back. Try and sleep.”

“Hey-” he reached for your arm gently before you could get too far away. You turned around and raised an eyebrow as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, “d-did I do something wrong?”

“What? What are you talking about?” the question caught you off guard, but judging by the look on his face, you could sense that this was something he had been thinking for some time.

“You’ve been different lately...it almost feels like you’re avoiding me.”

“Oh DIn, you’re being ridiculous,” and yet the accusation was very true.

“You’re fine around Boba, Fennec...everyone else. But every time I’m around it feels like you can’t wait to get away,” you should have known that he would have noticed sooner or later. The man was more observant than you’d cared to admit, “if I did something, please tell me.”

“You can’t be serious, Djarin. There’s nothing wrong…”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been doing anything. You’ve got too much free time and your mind is running wild.”

“Tell me it’s not true then.”

“Din-”

“Tell me.”

“The problem is that you’re in love with someone else,” the words were out of your mouth before you even contemplated them. You were mortified and in some ways you were relieved. At least it was all out in the open now and you were able to let the chips land where they may.

“Oh,” was his only response as his head tilted to the side and he looked at you in confusion, “what?”

“I...kriff,” you sighed, “I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry - forget I said anything.”

“Who am I in love with?”

“What do you mean?” tears welled up in your eyes at his response; almost like a cruel joke, “you know, everyone knows! Omera; and why wouldn’t you be? She’s wonderful - kind, smart, beautiful … everything. Part of me wants to dislike her, but I can’t because she’s such a good person but it kills me a little bit to know that you love her and you’ll never even think twice about me. I know that’s super selfish but it’s the way I feel; and judging from how this is going I think I’m making the right decision by leaving. By myself.”

Din said nothing as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. You laughed bitterly at yourself before realizing that this might have been the best decision after all. You couldn’t stay after this.

It wasn’t long before Din came to his senses and ran after you, calling your name and catching up with a few easy strides. You came to a reluctant stop as you sniffled and waited for him to say something, despite the fact that you weren’t sure you wanted to hear whatever he had to say.

“I-I-I’m not in love with Omera,” he insisted as it became your turn to look at him in bewilderment, “I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

“I’ve been talking to her about you,” he confessed, “about how to do...this sort of thing. But then you started avoiding me and I wondered if maybe I’d read the signs wrong and you didn’t like me at all. At least not in that way.”

“I don’t….what?” you heard his words but weren’t able to fully comprehend them. This had to be some sort of weird fever dream. Din sighed - his trademark sigh - before ripping off his gloves and gently putting his hands on the sides of your face. He was hesitant at first, to see if you would stop him. But you didn’t...instead you relished in his touch, the feel of his bare skin on yours sending electric shivers throughout your whole body.

After a few moments of quietly studying your features, he leaned in and slowly pressed his lips against yours. It wasn’t a proper kiss by any means, hardly more than a ghost of one, but it felt...strangely wonderful. You looked at him in disbelief as he pulled back; was this really the same man that you’d met all that time ago that wouldn’t even tell anyone his name or let them see his face?

“Oh.”

“Can we go inside?” he whispered softly, “can we talk?”

“Yeah,” you agreed gently. He reached for your hand but before he could take it in his, you stopped him and pressed another sweet, barely there kiss to his lips. A tinge of pink colored his cheeks as you beamed at him, “now we can go.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[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.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Everybody Talks Too Much (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Mute!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence Summary: Whenever Cassandra gets angry, no one wants to deal with her. Well, no one but you, that is. Thankfully, the middle child appreciates your company... not that she'd ever admit it. Notes: Another self-indulgent fic with a selectively mute reader. This one's a lil different. Sections in italic are mostly indications that the reader is miming actions in order to communicate, though there are a few internal thoughts that are marked as such. Unlike the past two I've done, this takes place pre-relationship, so there's some mutual pining of sorts. I think that's the word.

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

Among the many servants of Castle Dimitrescu, there were a number of secret rules to be followed. Guidelines that were never written down, only spoken in hushed whispers, for specific (and dangerous) circumstances. Most could be divided into one of two categories: 1, how to reduce the chances of a Lady of the house killing someone. 2, how to make sure that if they kill someone, it will not be you. Of these rules, there was one that you knew best of all, despite never having been told it. Why? Because you have observed it time and time again. After all, the rule revolved around you. To put it plainly… If Cassandra Dimitrescu was in an awful mood, but had yet to draw blood, send in the mute.

Even now, as you rushed down a corridor, you did not know why this rule was in place. You simply knew that you had been summoned countless times by frantic maidens, to go serve their volatile mistress. Admittedly you did understand their eagerness to thrust the task upon someone else. Cassandra was often considered the deadliest of the Dimitrescu daughters, for she was the quickest to anger, the one with the deepest bloodlust, and took the longest to calm down. Personally, you disagreed, believing that it wasn’t terribly hard to know what she did and did not like. All it took was some observation. It was Daniela who scared you, seeing as she was unpredictable. She didn’t even need to be in a bad mood to want to kill you.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that you saw no danger in working with Cassandra. In fact, you saw a fair bit, such as now: Right as you round the corner, a shiny object hurls past your head, embedding itself into the wall. Had you been walking ever so slightly faster… Well, you preferred not to dwell on such things, especially not when the one who threw the thing was still nearby. Based on the howling laughter and swarm of insects that moves around you, the intended target was Lady Daniela. Across the room is the markswoman herself; Cassandra stood tall, huffing in anger, staring at the spot her sister had just vacated from.

“Damn it!” She yelled, stomping her foot as if the resulting shockwave might do what her weapon had not. Oddly amused, you’re quick to remove the sickle from the wall, careful as to not damage it. It’s a tad dirty, but nothing you can’t fix with your handy pocket cloth. Cleaning as you walk, you slowly move towards your employer, not even bothering to spare her a glance. After all, you had your own rules for dealing with her.

(1: Avoid eye contact for at least one minute after an outburst.)

By the time you make it to Cassandra, the minute has come and gone, allowing you to ever-so politely look her in the eyes when you return her blade. She scoffs, then practically rips the sickle from your hands. This was your job, however, so you made no complaints. Not that you could, at least not verbally. Instead, you gave a short bow of acknowledgement. Afterwards you stood still, awaiting either instructions or a dismissal. Neither came.

“I can’t believe that little shit tried to take my favorite dagger and thought she could get away with it! Agh, the nerve of her! Can you believe this?” Cassandra snapped, turning to you as if you might agree with her. Nod, simple yet effective. “At least you know how to handle a blade. Damn Daniela is lucky she didn’t get any scratches on mine.” Then she pulls the knife in question from its place on her belt, letting it gleam in the light. A soft exhale, head tipping to the side, wow is it pretty. So is the one holding it. Your mind wanders but your gaze does not. Always polite, always ready to serve.

(2: Do not get distracted; she is no patient lover, rather a demanding boss.)

“Cassandra! What was all that noise a minute ago?” Someone called, interrupting your ‘conversation’. The speaker soon appears, being none other than Lady Bela, the most reasonable of the castle residents. Though that meant little, considering the nature of her family. As if to prove your point, Cassandra merely rolls her eyes in reply, refusing to divulge the truth. And so Bela turned her gaze to you, perking a brow. “Feeling up to talking today?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Of course, your hands are already moving, not even waiting for her to finish speaking. This is a game you know intimately.

A hand goes to your belt, moving to pull a nonexistent blade from its sheath. Raising it, moving it forward then back several times, launching it towards the wall- towards the hole left behind. Then shifting, waving your hand in front of your face while exhaling a sharp breath. Flinching. An exaggerated gulp, pretending to check if your nose is still attached, sighing in relief. Lastly, an inclination of your head towards the culprit. Cassandra.

“I was aiming for Daniela. Not that it matters, nobody got hurt,” she stated, confident. Both hands clasped together, then tapping the palms together, mimicking a heartbeat at a reasonable pace. Suddenly a stomp. The beating stops, and you hold your hands next to your ear, as if listening for signs of life. Pause. Three seconds. Worried expression, eyes wide. Finally, fast as a gunshot, the heart beats again, wildly. At this, Bela shoots her sister a look of doubt, as well as judgement. Hoping to change the subject, Cassandra looks to you. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Rubbing your chin, thinking. Squinting for effect. Ah, got it! Both hands go to your sides, lifting the imaginary hem of a dress you aren’t wearing. Waltzing forward, yet in place, with the poise expected of a professional maid. Then the focus shifts to your face. Fear. A silent scream, a hand at your forehead, feeling like you… might… faint. Falling backwards, making a step at the very last second to prevent a real collapse. End scene.

“Someone was scared?” Bela asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself. When you nod, she does as well, considering the implications. “Why would they send you?”

“I hardly care why, I just want to know who so I can kick their ass,” Cassandra interjects, taking a step closer to you. All you do in response is shrug. Unsurprisingly this is not enough to please her, and before you know it she’s wrapped a hand around your throat. “Give. Me. A. Name. Now.” A perked brow. Thoughts practically telegraphed. ‘What do you expect?’ Opening your mouth, slightly, then wide, back to almost closed. No sound comes out. Obviously. It’s not like you wanted to break your own rule, but in this case you had no choice.

(3: Give her whatever she wants, consequences be damned.)

Luckily for you, Bela acts as a foil to Cassandra, there to smooth the seas. Moving behind you, she reaches into your back pocket and retrieves the notepad you keep there. Then she’s handing it to you while making eye contact with her sister. Cassandra promptly releases you, though she’s clearly not pleased, going so far as to push you away in one last act of anger. Internally you roll your eyes. On the outside, however, you quickly write down everything you know… which isn’t much.

“I don’t remember who it was. A lot of people have asked. This happens a lot.” Then you hand the paper to Bela, who soon looks back up at you in confusion. Too antsy to wait for her own turn, Cassandra yoinks the notepad from her sister’s hands, reading it over several times before reacting.

“What the fuck? Why would they send you to me because somebody pissed their pants in fear? I’m going to kill someone. Ugh, I don’t- this doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” Cassandra ranted, pacing back and forth, looking like she wanted to destroy something immediately. To your surprise, Bela doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she looks amused, and smiles when the two of you make eye contact. Something tells you that she knows something that you don’t. Before you can react, she quietly retrieves your notepad and returns it to you. Then she pauses, thinking, eying you with curiosity.

“Why don’t you go for now? See if anyone thanks you for stepping in, hmm?” She suggested, tone implying that this was absolutely about something else entirely. Still, you don’t care to disobey, and so you bid the two of them farewell with a deep bow. As you leave, you can almost make out part of what they say next. But you’re certain that you must have heard incorrectly. “Showing your favoritism a little too much, sister? If even the servants can see it-” the rest of the sentence is cut off by angry muttering from Cassandra. After that you’re too far away to hear anymore. What a strange day...

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

“Hey, you know where Lady Cassandra’s room is, right?” Ygritte asked, casually, definitely not having just been told by someone else that you were the solution to her problem. Pretending that you were unaware of this, you give her a smile and a nod. Later, behind her back, you will mentally add her to your list of people to watch out for. Maybe even decide to refuse to share your biscuits with her. In the meantime, you pretend that you don’t mind whatever task she’s about to dump on you. “Can you bring these books to her? I really have to get back to the kitchen soon, and that’s in the opposite direction…”

Technically true. Something told you that the real problem was that Cassandra had been extra loud the past few days. Regardless, you accept the books from her, leaving before she even finishes thanking you. Why do people do this? I don’t get it, you think. It’s like they think I’m immune to her rage. If that were true, I’d gladly throw myself between her and others. But no, that’s not the case. Hmmph, if only they saw my scars. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you keep walking, subconsciously rubbing the spot on your arm where Cassandra had cut you. Well, the worst spot. Being pain tolerant had made her take interest in you, during your first few weeks, but it’s what allowed you to learn her rules. Your rules, really.

Knock. Knock. A pause… three more, much softer. The door swings open, revealing your Lady, whose eyes widen at the sight of you. Tipping your hat (which you are not wearing), you greet her, forcing another smile. Then you present the books, free hand gesturing with a spiral motion towards them. She doesn’t respond. No, wait, she glances at the door hinges, considering closing the door in your face. Now both of you are staring at each other, daring the other to move.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally said. There’s a gruffness to her voice that you hadn’t expected. It’s unlike her usual tone, less angry, more tired. Were those bags under her eyes?... No, just smudged makeup. “Don’t just stand there- tell me why you’re here.” Again, you gesture to the books, extending your hands further towards her. This time she takes a half-step backwards to avoid you. Peculiar. “Someone else was supposed to bring them, dipshit. Fucking hell, why can’t anyone around here do their damn jobs?” At last, she takes the books from you, carrying them deeper into your room. Though she does not close the door, you assume that your job is done. Or maybe you simply do not wish to deal with a Cassandra who’s frustrated by your specific presence. Either way, it breaks one of your rules, though you do not remember until it is too late.

(4: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family.)

“Where the hell are you going?” The sound of buzzing flies, a blur of motion around you, then the form of Cassandra solidifying in front of you. One of her hands is raised, pressing against the center of your chest. She pushes you, hard, making you stumble backwards into her room. Next thing you know you’ve crashed onto her floor. A tad stunned, you bring a hand up to hold your head, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. There’s the sound of a door closing, and then someone’s trying to help you stand. “I didn’t say you could leave yet. Now c’mon, I’ve got stuff for you to do.” Then she’s guiding you to her bed, making you sit down on the end. Panicked thoughts race through your mind one after another. What exactly was she intending? Thankfully you don’t have to wait long to find out. “Read through these, and-” a pause, like she hadn’t known what she was going to say until she was already speaking- “take notes. Make a summary of the bookmarked sections, or whatever.” Handing you a couple books (neither of which being ones you had just brought to her), she sits on the other side of the bed, refusing to look at you. She does, however, say one last thing, voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay for a while, okay?”

Inside your head, you make a mental note to amend your list of rules.

(4.b: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family. If Cassandra asks you to stay, you stay, no matter what. It’s worth it.)

[hopespeak-hs-hostclub]

may i request hajime destroying readers insides for flirting with other guys afab reader with she/her pronouns?

I LOVE JEALOUS HAJIME. Ofc, let’s go! I hope you like it 🙈I had fun writing it! Sorry it took me a little longer than I’d have liked!!!

Hajime Jealous Afab Reader

18+ ONLY. DO NOT READ IF UNDER 18!!!!! NSFW: story under cut

TW:// NSFW, jealousy, over stimulation, mentions of drinking

Word Count:// 2,262

You were so excited for Hajime to come home so you could show him your outfit. You’d finally gotten the new clothes you ordered in the mail, and one outfit in particular made you feel so hot. You’d done your makeup all dramatic to match, and even did your hair all nice, knowing your boyfriend should be on his way home from work by now. You planned on showing him the new outfit and taking him out to a bar to dance, drink, and have a good time.

So when Hajime walked through the door and barely even looked at you, you were obviously upset. “Hajime..” you whispered as you stood behind him, while he was walking into the kitchen.

He sighed heavily and turned around to face you. “Yes?” He asked plainly. He didn’t seem to be very interested, almost like he didn’t even care.

“I … I was just asking if you liked my new outfit… I was hoping maybe we could go to the bar and have a fun night…” you said, feeling and sounding let down.

“Oh yea, you look fine.” Hajime said only answering the first part of your statement, and not really seeming as excited about your outfit as you’d hoped.

“Just… fine?” You asked suddenly getting a little angry. Hajime just nodded and turned back around, opening the fridge. “Wow..” you said in disbelief. “So I get all dressed up and sexy for you so we could have a nice night out, and all you do is say I look ‘fine’?” You started going off not even giving him a chance to respond. “Well fuck it Hajime. I’m going to the bar without you. I’ll have a good night by myself.” You said as you quickly grabbed your purse and keys, heading outside, leaving Hajime standing in the kitchen dumbfounded.

‘What the fuck did I do?’ Hajime thought to himself. He’d had a really stressful day at work, and now he gets home and all you want to do is argue with him? Hajime sighs heavily and slams the fridge door shut, not even grabbing the drink he wanted and storms upstairs, immediately taking off all his clothes, showering up, and changing into a nicer outfit. He then hopped into his car, and started to drive to the nearest bar which was about 15 minutes from your shared apartment.

At the bar, you ordered 3 shots for yourself. And once you downed those you were feeling confident as ever. ‘Fuck Hajime. He doesn’t appreciate me. I look fantastic tonight and he didn’t even care. But somebody will.’ You thought to yourself while scanning the room. You immediately saw an incredibly attractive man sitting by himself. ‘Not nearly attractive as Hajime, but who is?’ You thought in your head. You took a deep breathe, stood up from your seat, and smoothly glided across the bar to the seat across from the man who currently had all your attention.

“Hi- I’m Y/N.” You said in a flirty tone while smiling at him.

“Well, hello there Y/N.” He said while smirking back at you. “You look absolutely fucking stunning tonight you know?” The stranger went on. “Like god damn, that shirt? You look phenomenal!” He made your whole face blush bright red.

You decided to slide a little closer to him and asked him, “So what’s a big handsome guy like yourself doing out here all alone tonight?” You asked, twirling your hair.

As you continued to flirt with your mystery bar toy, Hajime snuck in without you noticing. He began scanning the room to find you, and almost immediately spotted you. And a guy staring down your shirt? ‘Oh fuck no’ Hajime stopped thinking completely. He took a few big strides over towards your direction and forcefully grabbed your hand. “Hey, babe,” he said while staring daggers at the other guy.

“H-Hajime..” you said staring at him.

“Who’s your friend?” Hajime asked still not taking his eyes off the guy.

“I- .. don’t know,” you confessed. “It wasn’t anything serious. He was just being friendly Hajime-“ you started to explain. The guy across from you just sat there mouth slightly agape staring at the awkward situation unfold in front of him.

Hajime tugged your arm up, and you stood up with it, staring at him. “Let’s go home, Y/N,” Hajime said holding you close by his side.

Hajime drove you home even though your car was still at the bar. He knew you’d been drinking and even if he was currently upset, he’s be devastated if you got hurt, or if you hurt somebody else. The drive home was only 15 minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Hajime didn’t say a single word to you the entire drive, and had the radio off. It was a deafening silence. One you’d pulled up to your building, Hajime wasted no time turning the car off and storming into the building, and once in your apartment, you followed him into the bedroom.

“Sit.” Hajime demanded, pointing at the edge of your bed, while standing across from it.

You sat down where he pointed and looked up at him.

“Explain.” Hajime said sharply.

“Hajime- I dressed up so cute, and so happy and confident and I was so excited for you to come home and tell me how sexy I was and I was hoping you’d be excited to take me out and show me off, but you didn’t care. But that guy said I looked pretty. He actually noticed that I put in effort….” You blurted out all at once.

“So you think I didn’t care?” Hajime snapped back. “I couldn’t have had a bad day at work, or needed 5 minutes to myself? And then you went and snuck around my back flirting with the first man who gives you any attention?” Hajime sounded angry. He didn’t even give you a second to answer him when he started speaking again. “No. Fuck that. Fuck all of that. You’re mine.” He smirked suddenly and took a few steps towards you, pushing you backwards onto the bed. “All. Mine.” He said seductively as he took his shirt off. “And I’m going to prove that to you right now, okay?” You nodded slightly staring into the eyes that are now directly above yours. “Use your words, y/n.”

“Y-yes Hajime,” you stammered out shocked. Hajime almost never takes charge like this- but god were you excited.

Hajime began kissing your neck, up and down, and all over until he heard you gasp softly. When he heard that gasp he started kissing, and sucking, and biting on that spot trying to get you to be more vocal. You moaned very softly, trying not to make any noise, which was good enough for your boyfriend, who moved his lips up to yours. He continued on to kiss you oh so softly, making you practically melt into the mattress you were laying in the middle of, until he suddenly bit your lip, causing you to open it just enough for him to slip his tongue into your open mouth. You moaned out softly into his mouth, much louder than you’d anticipated. Hajime then pulled away from you, so he hovered above you. “Shirt,” he only said that one word and you immediately sat up and threw your new top onto the floor. Noticing that you weren’t in a bra immediately, Hajime’s hands instantly started grabbing and playing with your breasts. And then his mouth.

“Hajime-“ you breathed out softly, followed by a few soft moans. “Mm… I love you…”

Hajime stopped playing with you and look at you. “Is that why you flirt with strangers?” He asked, not waiting for an answering before moving his hand down to your thighs, slowly moving his fingers up your little skirt. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes tight.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen, y/n,” Hajime whispered against your ear in a low sultry voice. “I’m going to destroy your insides, and prove that you’re all mine. Got it?” Hajime pulled his face away from yours and looked at you, awaiting an answer from you this time.

“Yes Hajime,” you whimpered back. And at that, he wasted zero time. Slowly, he moved his long slender fingers to push your panties to the side, and sliding another up and down your already soaking wet slit. Your breathing quickly sped up, and got much heavier. He continued to tease you for a few moments until you moaned out loud. “F-fuck..” you threw your head back and pushed your hips up towards his fingers, begging for more contact. Hajime happily obliged, and slowly put his long index finger inside of you, curling it once it was all the way in. “Holy shit…” you gasped excitedly.

“What, do you like that?” Hajime inquired with a smug look across his face, as he continued to fuck you slowly with his index finger. You nodded frantically, but to your dismay, he stopped moving his finger completely and pulled it out, looking at you. “Use your words, Princess,” Hajime ordered you.

“Y-yes Hajime, I love it so much, please keep going..” you were practically crying waiting for him to fuck you with his finger again. But when he reentered you, this time he used two fingers. “Mm, fuck..” you moaned out as you grabbed the back of hajime’s hair, pulling him in to kiss him. He kissed back, as he continued to finger fuck you for a little while longer. Then he curled his fingers again and you couldn’t contain yourself. “FUCK!” You screamed thrusting your hips up trying to get him to go deeper. “Hajime please, I- hhhhhng- I need you. I need more of - ahh- you. Please Hajime please,” you rambled on in between moans and groans.

“Are you sure you want more?” Hajime teased you, while slowly taking fingers out and slamming them back into you.

“Holy fuck- ahhh- yes please Hajime please please I’m begging you.”

Hajime instantly pulled his fingers out and threw his jeans and boxers off in the blink of an eye. He was already rock hard despite you not having touched him at all tonight. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, just staring at him glistening above you.

“H-Hajime please…” you begged, spreading your legs open for him. “Please…” you started to continue to beg for him, until without warning, he shoved himself inside you. “FUCK!” You screamed out loudly.

Hajime didn’t start slowly- he immediately picked up his pace and he quickly began bottoming you out.

“H- oh. Ahh…haaa…” you moaned through deep breathes. You grabbed onto Hajime’s back and dug your nails into it, receiving a loud hiss from his mouth, resulting in you getting fucked with even more force behind each thrust. You started to move your hips in the same rhythm as Hajime’s, while moving your head up ever so slightly so you could sloppily kiss him. He didn’t notice your head come up to meet his though, so you started to kiss his neck to gain his attention. For just a moment, Hajime’s pace slowed down and got a little bit sloppier while you sucked and bit on his neck, leaving several bright purple marks on him. Hajime pulled his neck away from yours, and pinned your arms above your head, and stared to makeup out with you. He had significantly slowed down his pace, but continued to bottom out the entire time, making you cry out in pleasure with each and every thrust.

“Hajime- ahhh.. I love you..” you cried out in pure bliss. You could feel his huge dick hitting you deep inside. It felt like he was completely moving around all your insides, and just wrecking you. At this point you try to cry out to him, but you can’t even form words. You start drooling and whimpering incoherently with each and every deep hard thrust. You can feel your orgasm creep up on you quickly, and you try to warn Hajime, but you unfortunately can’t make any words come out. Instead, you wrap your legs around his waist as tightly as you can, as you feel yourself tighten around Hajime. Your eyes shut so tight, that all you could see were swirls of light in your eyes. The tip of his dick hits your g-spot one last time, and you felt the pure ecstasy rush from the tips of your toes, all the way through your body as you came hard around Hajime. You were an incoherent mess of moans, screams, and cries.

“Oh, fuck-!” Hajime stuttered out as he messily slammed himself into you a few more times, before losing control of himself and finishing deep inside of you. As his thick warm cum filled you up, he continued to make slow deep thrusts until he was finished, proceeding to collapse onto the bed right next to you. He rolled over and looked you in the eyes as he caressed your cheek in the palm of his hand, and whispered, “I love you, y/n. I always have and will. And I’m sorry I didn’t give you the attention you wanted. But don’t you dare flirt with another man, ever again.” Hajime teased, before kissing the tip of your nose and pulling you close.

“I… I l-love you t..too,” you stammered, still out of breath and searching for words. “Sorry..” you mumbled as you curled up onto his chest, holding him close to you, until you fell asleep in his arms.

[jisungsmochi]

confessions - park jisung

jisung x reader / jisung being whipped / fluffy, lil angst / hope it makes you feel something lmaoo 

word count: 8.7k 

mini playlist: 

Cloud 9 - Beach Bunny 

Falling - Chase Atlantic 

Enchanted - Taylor Swift 

summary: confessing to your crush was always daunting. but how else were you supposed to let them know how you truly feel? y/n has learned the hard way, always being the confessor rather than the one being confessed to. oh how she wished that one day, someone will have the courage to tell her how they feel, without her always having to make the moves...

//

“i like you”

“ew, you’ll give me cooties”

y/n was barely seven years old when she confessed to her very first crush, lee donghyuck. he rudely rejected her offer to play marbles during lunch, but she wasn’t fazed. she plastered a bright smile on her face, calmly nodding at the little boy,

“cooties aren’t real, it’s probably just germs from not washing your hands!” she snickered, turning on her heel as she made her way to a shaded area in the quad. she left donghyuck speechless that day, slightly bruising the young boy’s ego. how could she be so calm when her very first crush had harshly rejected her? she always tried to display a cheery exterior to her peers, she found it embarrassing if people caught her crying over some boy. so she pushed her feelings aside until she was alone.

when y/n was twelve, she had grown a crush on her desk mate, jeno. he was quiet most of the time, only speaking to her when he needed answers for homework, but she was whipped nonetheless. he was undeniably handsome, especially for someone their age. how was that even possible? she would intently watch him play soccer with his friends on the school oval, softly cheering every time he made a goal. jeno had noticed when she attended his games, often smiling at her from the field.

after weeks of innocent stares in the hallway and short conversations during class, y/n decided it was time to confess to lee jeno. she came up with the cute idea to write a small note to him during class, it read:

hi jeno!! i think you’re really cute, and a great soccer player. i also have a crush on you...would you go out with me?

tick yes or no

she had written the letter in sparkly pink ink, folded it gently before sliding it over to jeno’s desk. the confused boy swiped the card over to his side, slowly opening it. her heart was beating out of her chest. jeno started scribbling on the paper, causing her to furrow her eyebrows, all he needed to do was leave a tick?

jeno returned the note to her, a soft smile plastered on his face. her eyes scanned over the note, landing on his answer. the ‘yes’ box was ticked, followed by a short sentence under it,

would this mean you’re my girlfriend?

tick yes or no

she couldn’t help but smirk at his charms, immediately ticking yes. from that day on, jeno and y/n began dating. but when you’re going through your pre-teen years, things get really dramatic. jeno ended things with y/n after only three months of dating, which seemed like forever for a twelve year old. he dumped her over text, as many pre-teens did back then. she put on a brave front, acting as if she was okay with it all. it wasn’t even a serious relationship, but it was still her first. of course it hurt. but she continued to suffer in silence, no one needed to know.

when y/n was fifteen, almost turning sixteen, she befriended huang renjun. they were always aware of the other, often hanging out in the same cliques. it was the school’s swimming carnival, when she began getting closer to him. after donghyuck had accidentally pushed her into the pool, too caught up with chasing mark around, renjun came to her rescue. he offered her his towel, wrapping her up tightly as he sat and chatted with her while the others scolded donghyuck. he was a great conversationalist, always having something new to talk about. y/n adored that about him. from that day onwards, she would message him back and forth, almost becoming a daily occurrence. they would skype call after school, catching eachother up on any drama or daily events in their early high school lives. she started falling for him, fast. but there was one downfall to renjun. he would never acknowledge y/n at school. whenever he was with his friends, he pretended like he was merely acquaintances with the girl. it hurt her to see him act like nothing was happening between them. word got around that renjun had a crush on somebody. as usual high school gossip goes, the signs led back to y/n. her friends would cheer her on to confess to him, so would his friends. they believed they would be a strong couple. so she decided to take measures into her own hands, opting to confess to huang renjun.

y/n approached the boy during lunch, interrupting his conversation with jaemin.

“can i talk to you, uh privately?” her voice wavered as she spoke, but she stood her ground. renjun looked over at his friends, jaemin raising an eyebrow at him, encouraging him to go with her. he eventually gave in, keeping a slight distance from the nervous girl as they walked around the school grounds together.

“what did you want to talk about?” he coughed slightly, feeling an immense amount of awkwardness around them.

“i wanted to tell you something” she started, now stopping in their tracks. renjun gulped, a guilty feeling beginning to rise in his stomach.

“i like you, renjun. more than a friend” she finally spat out, trying to read the reaction of the boy across from her. but renjun remained silent, eyes avoiding hers. y/n felt deflated, why the hell wasnt he saying anything?

“i-thank you” he stuttered, causing her to raise an eyebrow at him. thank you?

“i mean thank you for telling me, it’s nice that you’re so honest” renjun tried to smile, but she didn’t budge. he wasn’t taking this seriously at all.

“you know what, just forget i said anything, bye renjun” y/n rolled her eyes, fed up with this constant rejection that seemed to follow her around. why couldn’t she get a happy ending? just for once. why did she have to settle for less than what she deserved? not only did she get rejected by a crush that day, she lost a great friend. y/n swore that she would stop focusing on chasing other’s affections. what was the point? she was just going to get rejected anyway. atleast that’s what she always told herself. those memories always stuck with her, and she refused to ever feel so dejected in life. she wouldn’t let this happen again. she just wanted someone to confess to her for once, would that really be so hard?

park jisung was a simple boy, cruising through life with little to no worries. all he wanted to do was finish high school, he dreaded it more than anything. everyday was the same for him, waking up to the same alarm, riding his skateboard to school, sitting for what seemed like forever, then going home to rest and repeat. he never took notice of those around him, why would he? it’s not like he was going to stay in touch with many of them after school finished. except for his best friend, chenle, he could never escape him no matter how hard he tried.

it was the first day of junior year, when jisung found himself placed in a seating plan for his modern history class.

‘is this really necessary?’ he mumbled to himself, shuffling to his assigned seat. atleast it’s by the window, he thought to himself.

y/n strolled through the halls, making her way to her first period class, modern history. a new year, a fresh new start. she waltzed into the room, noticing students gathering around the seating chart. she found her name, whipping her head around the classroom, eyes landing on a messy haired boy next to the window. she shrugged to herself, not recognising him at all. as she made her way to the desk, jisung suddenly perked up. she was stunning. it may have only been nine in the morning, but seeing her was enough to completely wake the previously tired boy up.

“hey, i guess we’re deskmates” y/n greeted politely, taking a seat right next to the timid boy. jisung was thinking of something witty to say, but nothing was coming to mind.

“y-yes we are” was all he managed to let out. y/n just nodded at him, eyes focusing on their teacher who had called the attention on the room. but jisung couldn’t keep his eyes off her. how had he never seen her before? she was practically glowing, her soft features accentuated by the light. he was breath taken by her, despite only having shared simple greetings.

y/n felt the boy staring at her, but decided not to call him out on it. she promised herself to not get involved with anyone this year. it would only bring her eventual rejection again. so she tried her best to ignore park jisung, it was the only way to get him to lose interest.

“i don’t think she’s too fond of me” jisung confides in his best friend, chenle as they sit under the bleachers, munching on their lunch.

“can you blame her? you probably ask her too many unnecessary questions” chenle smirked, teasing his pouty friend.

“no, i don’t even talk to her much, she just refuses to acknowledge my existence” jisung lets out an exhausted puff, thinking back to his numerous attempts to atleast become acquainted with his desk mate. firstly, he tried greeting her brightly each morning, in which she would only raise her eyebrows before pulling out her books for the class. secondly, jisung attempted to ask her questions about class work, in which she shushed him, pointing over to the teacher who was speaking. even after class, she would immediately pack her things before he had the chance, rushing out the door as if she was the flash or something.

“sounds like she just isn’t fond of people in general. does she even have any friends?” chenle questioned, trying his best to pull his friend out of his solemn state.

“i-i’m not sure, i mean she has to have atleast one friend...right?” jisung started thinking to himself. if he couldn’t get her to talk, maybe her friends would.

“you might be playing with fire here, is she really worth getting to know?” chenle scoffed, slightly admiring jisung’s determination.

“you never know unless you try, right?” jisung took a bite of his sandwich, there has to be a way for y/n to open up to him.

//

“i heard that park jisung has been going around, asking about you” one of y/n’s longest friends, ningning, suddenly brought up. y/n looked at her as if she was crazy, what is up with this park jisung dude?

“what does he want with me?” she rolled her eyes slightly, flipping through her history textbook.

“maybe he likes you? or maybe, he just wants to be friends. why are you so harsh to him anyway?” ningning sighed, memories of seeing her friend cry over boys now cluttering her mind.

“i don’t need any more friends. i have you, and like...sungchan” y/n shrugged, continuing to take notes as she read.

“i think you’re being unreasonable, he seems really nice. give him a chance” ningning tried persuading her friend but y/n was stubborn. she wasn’t going to get wrapped up in any unnecessary drama. maybe she was being a little rude towards jisung, she could cut it down a bit. but being anything more than classmates was not in the cards for her at all.

the following monday morning, jisung entered the classroom, skateboard attached to his hip.

“mr park, the skateboard stays at the front of the room, we’ve been through this” mr kim warned the tired boy, earning a subtle nod from him. jisung gently placed his skateboard against the wall, before making his way to his desk. he was surprised to see that y/n was already seated, scribbling down all sorts of things in her planner. jisung let out a soft cough, signalling her to raise her head to face him.

“could i uh get to my seat?” he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. he was more shocked to hear her response,

“oh of course, sorry jisung” he froze after she finished speaking. was this real life? was y/n really acknowledging him right now?

she scooted closer to her desk, allowing space for the tall boy. jisung quickly snapped out of his thoughts, rushing to sit down. she couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle at his antics. it didn’t go unnoticed by jisung.

“may i have your attention? as you all know, it’s now the middle of the term. to test your knowledge, i want you guys to pair up with your desk-mates and make a presentation on a historical topic of your choice. please refer to the assessment outline for more information”

jisung was practically beaming after hearing ‘pair up with your desk-mate’. his eyes shifted to the girl next to him, who seemed quite pleased. she looked over at him, simply nodding, acknowledging their future partnership. did he wake up in some type of alternate universe?

“uh jisung, i really want to do well in this subject. so we should probably get started as soon as possible” y/n gently tapped the side of his desk, drawing in his attention.

“oh yeah, for sure. w-when did you want to start?” he stumbled over some of his words, catching her off guard, making her softly smile.

“maybe tomorrow? do you have a free period?” she continued the flow of the conversation, making jisung feel more at ease.

“uh yeah, just before lunch” he responded, watching as her face lit up.

“oh great! me too, we can work at the bleachers, barely anyone goes there anyway” she confirmed, writing down the extra details in her planner. jisung couldn’t stop staring at her, how could she do such simple tasks, yet look so beautiful?

all he had to say was, thank you mr kim.

//

y/n patiently waited for jisung to arrive, typing up random notes on her laptop. she was onto her second paragraph when she heard the huffing and puffing of someone next to her. jisung hurriedly sat down next to her, needing to take a deep breath.

“a-are you okay?” she questioned, shutting her laptop, turning her body to face the boy. jisung just nodded, holding up a finger before speaking.

“i just had chemistry with Mr Jung, he wouldn’t let us leave until we could recite the first twenty elements on the periodic table” jisung finally felt relaxed, taking out his water bottle, consuming a concerning amount of water. her mouth created a slight ‘O’ shape, grasping the situation.

“i had to sprint here, i always get stuck past Sodium” jisung continued rambling, allowing y/n to simply stare intently. she didn’t mean for it to seem creepy, but she couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at his constant ramblings.

“a-ah sorry, we should probably get started” he shook his head, pulling out his own laptop from his bag. y/n nodded at his words, unsure of how to continue a conversation with him. it had been a while since she spoke to someone outside her inner circle of two people.

after about forty minutes of hardcore work, y/n’s eyes started wandering around. she caught sight of the boys soccer team, who were preparing for their lunch time practice. jisung’s eyes followed hers,

“you like soccer?” he blurted out, trying his best to start a conversation with her. she nodded softly, the side of her mouth curving upwards.

“yeah, i do. i’m no good at it, i just like watching. do you?” she questioned him back, eyes now focusing on him.

“of course, my parents weren’t so subtle, naming me after a famous soccer player and all” he joked, watching as the girl across from him started hysterically laughing. oh how he adored her laugh.

“oh my god, i didn’t even realise! they must have been onto something! why aren’t you on the team?” she furrowed her eyebrows, jisung bit his lip nervously,

“ah yeah, contrary to popular belief, i suck at soccer and didn’t make the team.” he sighed, feeling slightly embarrassed. y/n paused momentarily before opening her mouth,

“ah who cares! we can just watch together from the stands then” she shot him a soft smile, relieving some of the tension jisung had previously felt. the bell for lunch rang through the field, signalling that their free period had come to an end. jisung was about to pack up his things, when he noticed that y/n was still sitting, eyes glued to the players on the field.

“hey, it’s lunch now” jisung gently tapped her shoulder, snapping her out of her mini trance. y/n just nodded,

“oh i know, i was just going to watch them practice and eat my lunch here” she explained, turning her head back to the field. jisung held the strap of his bag tightly, thinking to himself momentarily. chenle can wait, he thought to himself. jisung plumped his bag to his side as he returned to his seat right next to her.

“what are you doing?” y/n questioned the boy,

“what does it look like? i’m keeping you company” he just smiled, pulling out a packet of chips, offering her some. she couldn’t hide how entertained she was, kindly accepting his offer. they continued to watch the soccer team practice, eyes scanning for the best players.

“that jeno guy is pretty good, i’m kind of jealous” jisung pouted, causing y/n to start giggling.

“am i wrong? like who wouldn’t be jealous of lee jeno? he’s got like everything! he’s athletic, and good looking and probably gets lots of chicks” jisung praised,

“wow jisung, sounds like you have a crush!” y/n teased the boy, softly nudging him. jisung froze at the sudden contact, he liked how playful you started being with him.

“don’t you? he’s kind of a catch, i thought girls would be all over him” jisung shrugged, watching as she slowly became quiet. he was startled by her reaction, feeling heat rise to his cheeks immediately.

“d-did i say something?” he muttered, unsure whether or not she was upset.

“n-no you didn’t. i mean, lee jeno was my first boyfriend, so i can say i’ve been there and done that!” y/n let out a small scoff, she noticed that jisung had now grown concerned.

“it was nothing though, we were like 12, and he dumped me over text. hasn’t spoken a word to me since though” she sighed, eyes scanning back to the boy in question. jisung was unsure of what to say next. y/n knew she had just over shared, she couldn’t help it. once she started, sometimes she couldn’t stop. she knew it would make jisung feel uncomfortable, part of her regretting it immediately. but when she saw the boy shoot her a cheeky grin, all her worries washed away.

“it’s good to hear that one girl at this school doesn’t have a crush on lee jeno” was all he said, causing her to raise an eyebrow.

“why’s that?” she curiously questioned,

“because that means i have a chance” he just smirked, head turning to focus back on the field. y/n was speechless. was he really being serious? or was this just some playful joke? she chose not to respond, feeling heat rise to her ears and cheeks. since when was park jisung such a flirt?

//

“come on, it’ll be fun” ningning whined as she sat with y/n and sungchan at the bleachers.

“yeah, you’ll get to see me play for the first time since i got on the team” sungchan begged, watching as y/n debated to herself.

“okay fine, not like i have three assignments to do that night” she sighs, giving into her friend’s peer pressure to attend friday night’s school soccer game. ningning and sungchan high-fived eachother, slightly surprised by her response. y/n’s gaze drew to the one and only park jisung, who was currently trying to do some weird skateboards tricks with chenle. she couldn’t pull her eyes away, finding it amusing whenever he made a mistake and tried to awkwardly cover it up. ningning snickered, catching onto the entire situation.

“park jisung huh? guess it’s finally time for you to put yourself back out there?” y/n snapped out of her trance, now glaring at her friend.

“n-no, what are you talking about? i wasn’t even looking at him” y/n immediately became defensive, sungchan deciding to step in.

“you totally were, in fact i’m sure you have a little bit of drool at the side of your mouth” he playfully teased, pretending to wipe off ‘drool’ from her face. y/n shoved his hands away from her, softly pouting.

“guys, he’s just a classmate. i said i wasn’t going to get involved with anyone, remember?” the annoyed girl reiterated to her friends, who weren’t buying the act at all.

“you can’t shut off your feelings, you know? it’s clear that you’re interested in him, even if it’s the tiniest bit. and you already know he’s interested in you too! why can’t you see that?” ningning sighed, feeling sorry for how hard y/n was on herself.

“because things will get messy. i’ll end up falling harder and ruin everything. it’s not going to happen again, i won’t let it” y/n looked down at her hands, gripping her water bottle tightly.

“maybe he’s different. he’s not going to be another jeno, or renjun, or donghyuck even. just keep an open mind, you have to start lowering your walls” sungchan pulled his arm around y/n shoulders, allowing her to rest against his side. ningning held her hand in y/n’s, gently stroking the back of her hand with her thumb. inside, y/n knew her friends were right. but something kept telling her that she was going to end up broken by the end of it. she really hoped that park jisung would be different. she needed him to be different.

//

y/n and jisung were halfway through their assignment, sitting next to eachother in the school library during their free period.

“damn, we are doing pretty well, way ahead of the schedule you had planned for us” jisung teased, eyes shifting to the page of scribbles, indicating the tasks for the assignment. y/n let out a scoff, pulling her planner towards her,

“don’t diss my planning okay? it’s just a rough outline!” she pierced her eyes at him, watching as he just smiled back at her. why does he keep doing that?

“you going to the soccer game tonight?” jisung nervously stammered, trying to play off as if he didn’t care too much about it. y/n only smirked at his words, placing down her pen before responding,

“may i ask why you’re asking?” she leant back in her chair, watching as jisung shifted his position so that he was directly facing her. she held her breath for a moment, not realising how close he actually was to her right now.

“because i’m going, and i was wondering if you wanted to watch it together. you know, since we are just the spectators rather than the players?” y/n wasn’t sure why she felt so...flattered, he really was unknowingly charming.

“oh yeah, i’m going, but i’ll be sitting with my friend” she tried to push the idea of her and jisung sitting alone for two hours in the cold, out of her mind. but jisung wasn’t going to back down so easily.

“oh great! i’ll bring chenle too, we can all sit together” he smiled widely before returning to type on his laptop. y/n let out a soft sigh. it doesn’t look like he will be giving up anytime soon.

//

y/n and ningning were both cozied up together on the bleachers, eyes on the lookout for sungchan. they locked eyes with the tall boy, waving at him erratically, causing him to respond in the exact same manner, gaining looks from his team mates.

“oh i sure hope they win, otherwise we’re making him buy us hot chocolate, i’m freezing!” y/n huffs, her breath now appearing infront of her.

“someone say hot chocolate?” the familiar voice rang through her ears. jisung was now seated next to her, two cups of hot chocolate in his hands. her mouth was agape, watching as the boy handed her friend one cup, then offering her the other. ningning kindly thanked him, gently nudging y/n’s arm.

“and one for my favourite desk mate” jisung snickered as she gently took the cup from him.

“hey! i thought i was your favourite desk mate!” chenle, who was on the other side of jisung, whined. jisung let out a scoff, softly shoving his friend,

“that was three years ago, things change” chenle continued to sulk, jisung not paying any attention to him. y/n couldn’t hide her amusement, taking a small sip from the warm cup of goodness.

“thanks jisung, i’ll pay you back” she offered kindly, reaching for her bag, but jisung stopped her, his hand wrapping around her wrist. y/n’s eyes shifted from his hand, to his face. jisung quickly removed his hand from her wrist, placing them into the pockets of his large coat.

“it’s on me, take it as a thankyou, for being such a great partner” a soft grin was plastered on his face. y/n just nodded, continuing to sip on the drink. the game had finally started, cheers of their fellow classmates echoed throughout the stands. sungchan played his best, assisting jeno in scoring the winning goal. the group of four in the stands, wailed at the top of their lungs, gaining the attention of those around them. y/n couldn’t stop laughing, continuously slapping jisung’s arm as she did so. jisung couldn’t stop looking at her. all he could think about was how gorgeous she looked in this light, the state of pure happiness she was currently in. it was enough for him to fall harder for her. along with her, not so gentle, slaps to his arm, jisung could swear he was in heaven.

“i-i’m sorry, jisung” she quickly calmed down, now realising how hard her slaps actually were. jisung shook his head,

“its okay, i’ll be your human punching bag any day, if it means you’ll hang out with me more” he smirked, causing her mouth to open slightly. was this guy even real? how could he come up with such cheesy lines?

“you’re an odd character, park jisung” y/n slightly shook her head in amusement, allowing her arm to brush against his as they sat closer together.

“it’s one of my best qualities” it sure was.

after the game ended, sungchan ran up to the group, jumping up and down, still pumped from his win.

“you did amazing!” y/n engulfed him into a warm hug. jisung watched the interaction unfold, part of him wishing you would be comfortable enough to embrace him like that one day.

“thanks for coming guys, i really appreciate it” sungchan smiles over to jisung and chenle who were aimlessly standing.

“anyone wanna get milkshakes or something? on me” chenle suddenly pipes up, watching as everyone’s face lit up.

“and this is why you’re my best friend” jisung pulled the other boy by his shoulders as the rest followed the pair. it was short drive in sungchan’s car, to the nearest diner. y/n was slightly shivering whilst in the car, jisung immediately noticed. he debated on whether or not to offer her his coat, but didn’t want to seem too persistent about it. as y/n stepped out of the car, she felt strong shiver throughout her body. jisung pushes his prior worries aside, immediately slipping off his coat, draping it around her shoulders.

“o-oh you don’t have to do this, jisung” she tried to decline, but the boy refused.

“nope, you’re cold and i’m already warm in this hoodie, just accept it” he convinced her, not taking no for an answer. as the five of them stepped into the diner, ningning made a beeline for her favourite booth near the back window. she slid herself into the booth, with sungchan next to her. y/n slide herself in the seat across from her friends, jisung quickly shoving in right next to her, chenle on his other side, once again. ningning gave y/n a playful smirk, eyes scanning over the overly large coat she had on. y/n raised her eyebrows, eyes straining, warning her friend to not mention it.

y/n’s eyes shifted over to jisung, who had started a conversation with sungchan and chenle about some new video game that was coming out soon. she watched as he threw his head back in laughter, continuing to argue with chenle about who was the best avatar in the game.  she then noticed how he balled hands into fists, gently rubbing them against the surface of his pants. he would occasionally blow on them, trying his best to get some warmth. she felt guilty for taking his coat, but knew he would do anything in his power to have her wear it. so she swallowed some of her pride, reaching for his hands. jisung froze at the sudden contact, trying to not make it obvious to the rest that he was now disengaged from the conversation entirely.

“w-what are you doing?” he muttered, moving closer to y/n, which made her slightly blush. she pulled his hands into her lap, wrapping them in the excess material of the oversized coat.

“they looked cold, i’ll warm them up for you” she softly smiled, and jisung swore his heart was about to burst out of his chest. was this real life? it couldn’t be, it had to be some crazy dream he was having.

y/n noticed the sudden shyness from jisung, heat now rising to his ears. she would be lying if she said she didn’t find him adorable. her heart racing as the close contact.

the rest of the night was spent chatting away between the five of them. from how lee donghyuck got suspended for putting shaving cream in the soccer coach’s cap, to the dreaded mid term exams that were approaching. y/n wished she had participated more in the discussions, but her thoughts were too preoccupied by park jisung. his hands still rested in hers, her fingers slowly beginning to smooth over his own, making his heart skip beats. he felt himself lean in closer to her as the night went on, practically crushing her against the window, but she didn’t mind.

“we should get heading home now, our parents are probably wondering where we are” ningning pouted as they all raised from their seats. jisung didn’t want to pull his hands away from y/n’s, making the bold decision to intertwine their fingers as they left the diner. y/n’s eyes widened at his actions as he smiled down at her. they sat in the back of sungchan’s car, as y/n felt her head lean on jisung’s shoulder, her hand still holding his. her eyes slowly became drowsy, ready to fall asleep.

“you two are really cute” ningning whispered, not knowing that y/n was listening intently,

“t-thanks” jisung whispered back, trying his best to hide how happy he was by the comment.

“so are you confessing?” chenle snickered, causing jisung to roll his eyes,

“i want to take things slow. i want her to like me back first” jisung sighed, reaching to brush some of y/n’s hair from her face.

“oh trust me dude, she likes you. she just won’t admit it yet” sungchan smiled to himself, happy to see y/n finally start opening up again.

“good, cause i’m in it for the long run” oh park jisung, who wouldn’t fall for him?

//

when jisung got to school the following monday, he saw y/n standing at the front gates, swaying slightly. she was wearing black stockings with a plaid skirt and a creme coloured sweater vest. but she was wearing something else that caught his eye.

“goodmorning jisung” she greeted the boy, fast paced walking to meet him. jisung smiled softly at her, pulling his skateboard to his side.

“goodmorning, y-you’re wearing my coat” he pointed out, causing her to freeze slightly.

“o-oh yeah, do you mind? it’s been pretty chilly lately” she wrapped herself tighter, eyes facing the ground. jisung felt a swarm of butterflies emerge in his stomach, she really had that effect on him.

“it’s totally okay, you suit it better than i do” he softly chuckled, beginning to walk alongside her, arms brushing against eachother.

“you gotta stop saying stuff like that” y/n sighs, waltzing through the school hallway, to their history classroom.

“and why should i?” jisung playfully teased, tugging on her sleeve, turning her to face him. her hands instantly went to his chest, not realising how close he had pulled her to him.

“b-because” she spoke barely above a whisper. jisung’s eyebrows furrowed at her,

“because it’s making me feel things” was all she said as she pulled away from him, rushing to her desk. jisung couldn’t help but admire her awkwardness. he was slowly getting there, she had partially admitted to having feelings for him. but he knew she wasn’t going to fully admit it anytime soon. he had to make the first big move...but he needed some outside help.

//

“is there a reason why we are hiding from y/n right now?” ningning whispered, face to face with jisung.

“i want to confess to her” he blurted out, ningning’s eyes widening in shock.

“you want to confess to her?” she repeated, mind still trying to wrap around the situation.

“uh yes? is it so hard to believe? i thought i made it pretty obvio-“

“no no, i know you like her. it’s just that, she’s never EVER had a boy confess to her before. it’s always been her making the moves” ningning explains, jisung’s mouth pressing into a firm line.

“she’s not used to this type of attention. like where the guy is genuinely interested in her as a person, and the things she likes. she’s used to always getting to know the guy, doing everything in her power to gain some type of feelings for her. then she ends up hurt after she realises that she fell harder than they did for her” jisung would be lying if this wasn’t hurting him. how could they do that to someone as caring and loving as y/n?

“how do i show her that i’m different?” jisung stammers, nerves slowly taking over. ningning just giggles,

“you’re already half way there. trust me, she knows inside that you’re not like the rest. you just have to hit it out of the park with a bomb ass confession! here’s what i’m thinking...” ningning continues to whisper to the boy, jisung stringing along to every word. operation confession for y/n was underway.

//

“hey, are we ready to hand in our assignment?” y/n approached jisung just before class. he responded with an affirmative nod, pulling out the ten page report from his backpack. her eyes widened at his efforts, admiring how prettily he presented the report.

“j-jisung” she stuttered, flipping through each page.

“i had some spare time last night, don’t mention it” he winks at her as she felt heat rise to her cheeks. she quickly moved to her seat next to him, trying her best to hide her face with her hair. but jisung noticed, smirking to himself. could she be any more adorable?

“there’s another soccer game on friday! did you want to sit together again?” jisung turned over the the girl next to him, catching her completely off guard. y/n looked over to jisung, his face completely softened, his eyes practically begging her to say yes.

“y-yeah i’d like that” she nodded, silently cheering that she would get to spend another night with park jisung. the plan was now in motion.

//

jisung was standing under the bleachers, awaiting y/n’s arrival. chenle approached him, giving him a slight pat on the back.

“you ready, buddy?” chenle whispered, a cheery expression on his face. jisung slowly nodded.

“yeah, the worst she could say is no” jisung tried his best not to psych himself out, reviewing his confession in his head.

“they’re here” chenle announces, eyes drifting to y/n and ningning. jisung took a deep breath, moving slowly towards the pair of girls. y/n was the first to notice him, shooting him a small smile, meeting him halfway.

“good evening ladies” chenle greets, making ningning giggle.

“oh please, we are barely ladies” she sighs, stepping past groups of people to find a seat for the four of them. chenle followed her in suit, with y/n and jisung straggling behind. jisung nudged y/n’s shoulder, giving her a small nod. she returned the gesture, feeling slightly awkward. but she pushed it aside, happy to spend another evening with jisung. she noticed that throughout the game, jisung’s leg kept bouncing up and down. she sensed he was nervous about something, it was either that or he was just really cold.

“do you want my coat to cover your legs? i brought an extra blanket with me” y/n whispered to jisung, causing him to halt his movements. he looks over at her, as she was halfway to taking off her coat.

“why don’t we just share the blanket?” jisung slyly comments. now it was her turn to freeze. she looked over at him, lips pressed in a firm line. as she placed her coat back on, and pulled out the blanket, jisung could feel his heart pumping faster than it had ever before. this was a good sign, right? she must like him back...right?

y/n gently placed the half the blanket over his knees, moving herself closer to him to gather warmth. she didn’t say much to him after, too focused on the game they were watching. but the position they were in right now, was all that was on jisung’s mind.

the game ended with a close win by sungchan’s team. although everyone was celebrating, it was noticeable that sungchan was not proud of how he played.

“dude don’t beat yourself up about it, it happens to the best of us” chenle tried to comfort. sungchan just nodded, not wanting to talk much about it.

“okay grumpy pants, let’s go get some food” ningning pulls the sulky not by the arm, chenle on the other side of him, doing the same.

“you two coming?” ningning calls from behind her. before y/n could answer, jisung reaches for her wrist, stopping her in her path.

“c-could i steal y/n for the night?” jisung didn’t let go of her wrist, watching as their three friends all had identical smirks.

“sure thing, see you two tomorrow” chenle winks, rushing off with the others. y/n’s face contorted into utter confusion. the feeling of jisung’s warm hand wrapped around her wrist made her nervous. he let out a short cough before letting go.

“what did you want to talk about?” she questioned, allowing multiple students to pass by her. jisung didn’t respond immediately, pulling her to sit at the bleachers again. he reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a pink folded piece of paper. her eyes were immediately drawn to it, but part of her was still wondering what this entire debacle was about.

“i-i don’t want you to read this yet. well until i tell you what i have to say” jisung mutters, hands becoming sweaty. this was such a different jisung to watch y/n was used to seeing. he always made witty jokes out of any situation, and was barely ever...nervous.

“go on” she urged, eyes still glued to that piece of paper. jisung cleared just throat, eyes finally meeting those of the girls across from him.

“i have a crush on you” those words had y/n stunned. her mouth became agape, no proper words able to be formed. jisung decided to continue,

“i know that you aren’t looking for a relationship or anything. and you’ve been hurt before. but i just had to tell you. i couldn’t keep it inside anymore” he finally admitted, shoulders now slouching. his eyes wavered from hers at times, but they were now drawn to his hands. y/n wasn’t sure how to respond. this was her first ever confession. the first person to actually have interest in her first. she wasn’t used to this at all. jisung was a nice guy, she knew he was. but was he the guy for her? or was she just struck with the idea of him confessing first? did she even really like him that way?

jisung noticed the mini debate occurring in the girl’s mind, part of his ego becoming bruised. y/n wanted to say something articulate back to him but she couldn’t find the right words.

“uh t-thanks for telling me, jisung. it must have taken a lot of courage” that wasn’t the way he expected things to go, but he continued listening to her.

“but are you really sure you like me? like really sure?” y/n questioned, the idea still not wrapping around her head. jisung was in disbelief, was he not obvious enough?

“i’m more than sure. i’ve liked you ever since i’ve met you” he mutters, feeling completely dejected.

“t-that’s not possible. you didn’t even know me then” she shook her head, eyes drifting to the hurt expression that was now on jisung’s face.

“i didn’t need to. you were so beautiful to me. i had to get to know you. i thought i made it pretty obvious that i liked you. but i guess i should have done a bit more, maybe save myself the embarrassment” he mumbled the last part to himself. his words striking her right in the heart. she didn’t want to come off as rude or unappreciative. but how was she meant to know this wasn’t some kind of joke, or if his feelings were true.

“is it really that hard to believe that i like you?” jisung tried his best to remain calm, but he wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and lay in it.

“yes. it is. because guys don’t confess to me. they just don’t. they don’t fall for me first” she continued to tell herself, watching as jisung’s face flatten.

“you can keep thinking that. but it’s not true. i’m living proof. i really thought you liked me too. i must have misread this entire thing” hearing those words stung her heart. she did like jisung. maybe not as much as he claimed he liked her, but she definitely had feelings towards him as more than a friend. but she didn’t feel ready, for any of this.

“jisung, it’s not like that. i like you too, i just don’t think i’m ready” she whispers, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. jisung could barely look at her, an overwhelming wave of embarrassment washing over him.

“when will you ever be ready? because by the looks of it, it seems like you never will be” jisung shook his head, forcefully brushing through strands of his hair. y/n moved closer to the boy, placing her hand onto his shoulder. she felt him tense at the contact, his eyes finally coming back up to meet hers again.

“i-i don’t know when i’ll be ready. i just need some time to think about it” she sighed, not wanting to rub more salt into the wound. jisung only nodded in response. there was no use trying to convince her any further. jisung accepted her reasons, even though he held resentment towards her for initially rejecting him.

“i’ll give you some space. let me walk you home atleast” jisung stood up, offering his hand to her. y/n cautiously took his hand in hers, slowly walking alongside the tall boy.

silence filled the air on their walk home. the only sounds being heard were the hoots of owls and screeching of cicadas. jisung had let go of her hand along the way, which pained her to admit, she missed his touch immediately. as they made it to her front door step, jisung was in a rush to get home, ready to sob his eyes out. but y/n stopped him.

“i understand that you’re upset. trust me, i know how it feels. but i hope you can see where i’m coming from” she mumbled as jisung nodded along to her words.

“it’s fine, i get it. i’ll just give this to you now” he pulled out the folded paper from earlier, handing it over to her.

“if you still don’t believe i like you, that should give you a sign about how much i actually do. have a nice night” he shrugged at her, turning his back to walk away. she watched as he left her driveway, head hung low. she shook the thoughts out of her mind, opening the door to her house. she didn’t bother looking back at jisung, closing the door behind her. but just as she entered her home, jisung’s gaze lingered on her. how could she have hurt him so much in such a short amount of time, yet he still felt the exact same about her?

park jisung, you are a fool. he thought to himself on his way home. how would he move on from this?

//

after the long night she had, y/n wanted nothing more but to sleep her problems away. but as she held onto the pink paper in her hands, she knew she wasn’t getting any sleep. she seated herself on her bed, carefully unfolding the paper, her heart racing.

“dear y/n,

if you’re reading this, i’ve just confessed to you. and you’ve most likely rejected me. i understand why you did it, i really do. i just couldn’t hold it inside any longer. i know you aren’t looking for anything serious at the moment. but i want you to know that i’ll be waiting for you. i hope that one day you realise how amazing you really are, and how i would be the luckiest guy in the world, to have you reciprocate my feelings. i honestly feel like you’re out of my league. i mean, you’re so confident in yourself. and you never let people bring you down. you’re so optimistic about such trivial things, it’s started to rub off on me a bit. i appreciate the sweet moments we’ve had together, and i hope you do as well. i don’t want to lost hope, that’s something you’ve taught me. you’re now nearing the end of this awfully structured letter, and i just want to say, that you deserve the world, and i can be the guy to give it to you. if you just give me a chance.

- park jisung (you already know who it’s from i just wanted to sound formal okay bye)”

y/n suddenly felt tears stream down her cheeks. for once in her life, she felt truly appreciated and cared for in return. of course she could see herself with jisung. it wasn’t a hard decision for her to make up her mind about it. but her constant doubts always held her back. it wasn’t fair to jisung at all, to keep him stringing along. she needed to make a decision, quick. there was no way she was going to hurt this boy.

//

the following monday morning, jisung patiently awaited y/n’s arrival in class. he nibbled on the side of his lip, tapping his pen rapidly on the desk. other students asked him to stop, as they were getting annoyed at the sounds but he couldn’t help it. he was praying she read the letter and didn’t just discard of it.

just as he was slipping into his own thoughts, he felt a sudden slam of books on the desk. his eyes met y/n’s as she sat down next to him. his quickly broke eye contact, flipping through his textbook as if he was studying. but she caught on to the boy’s antics, tapping him on the shoulder. jisung froze at the contact, looking over at the girl, who was still wearing his jacket.

“this is for you” she pulled out a small jar of origami hearts, sliding it over to his side of the desk. she felt heat rise to her ears, slightly embarrassed at the sweet gesture. jisung was practically speechless, his heart beating at a rapid pace.

“wow thank you, i love it” he gave her a gentle smile, eyes suddenly disappearing. she only nodded back, unsure of how to continue.

“i read your letter” she got to the point, jisung’s attention fully attended to her.

“i didn’t realise you felt so deeply about me, jisung. i thought you just had a silly crush, maybe that’s why i thought it would be easy to push you away. but you never let it go. and i’ve never had anyone do that for me before. so thank you” y/n barely whispers, feeling her palms begin to sweat. which was only something that happened when she was extremely nervous.

“what i’m saying is. you’re not like the guys i’ve liked before. you like me for me, and you genuinely want to be with me. so would you consider going on a date with me to the movies this weekend?” she cautiously suggested, watching as the boy’s face lit up in utter glee. he wanted nothing more but to pull her close and swing her around as he hugged her. but they were still in class, he needed to be tame...for now.

“i would freaking love that” he chuckled, causing you to smirk at his response.

“i’m glad you accepted my confession, i would have given you the silent treatment if i really tried” jisung pouted, making a fake angry expression, crossing his arms. she gently slapped his shoulder, laughing at the boy’s ridiculous antics. if this what it was like dating park jisung, then bring it on.

//

[ three months later ]

“come on! sungchan shoot!!” ningning’s voice echoed through the stands, the whole crowd geared up for the school’s soccer grand final. y/n and jisung were bundled up together, sipping on their hot chocolates, silently praying for that grand final win. there was only a minute left, jeno passed to sungchan and...he scores!

all the students from their school

jumped up, screaming endless cheers at the team. ningning waved her mini flag she made with sungchan’s face on it, as y/n and jisung hollered with the crowd.

“you did so great out there” y/n complimented her friend, like many times before, pulling him into an embrace. she saw how jisung slightly pouted, missing her warm touch. she slipped perfectly back to his side, his arm instantly wrapped around her waist as the crew made their way to the diner. jisung held y/n back, offering to meet the rest later on. y/n was yet again confused, following her boyfriend’s steps to sit on the bleachers.

“what’s up, sung? everything okay?” she pouts, watching as jisung nervously looks up at her.

“i love you” he blurts out, hands covering his mouth once he does. her eyes widen, not expecting those three words to leave his mouth at all. she pressed her lips into a firm line, her mind comprehending the situation. jisung was left worried, trying to read her expressions as best he could. he hoped he didn’t scare her away, it would completely ruin him.

“you’re just in luck” jisung’s head whipped up and met her. “because i love you too” y/n whispered, inching closer to the boy. his hands gently stroked her cheek, it was slightly cold but she didn’t mind. her lips fanned over his, ready to press them together. as she did so, jisung smiled widely into the kiss, hands coming to squish her cheeks together. it made both of them giggle for a bit, breaking the kiss momentarily. before jisung pulled her back in.

y/n soon realised that she didn’t need to live in fear of rejection any longer. because jisung gave her every ounce of reassurance she needed. the boys from her past slowly fizzled away from her memory, jisung now taking place as the one boy who truly loved her.

a/n: pls let me know what you all think!! 

[nobodyfamousposts]

My-Crack-ulous: Aku-Maid

In which I am a horrible person...

No seriously. Don’t read this.

For @mermain123, for bringing up the cursed image that started this mess in the first place.

Mermain: i said i was suffering

Mermain: i didn't want you to make the internet suffer

Me: That sounds like the internet’s problem.

Also for @bloody-writes. You know why...   ; )

_________________________

Hawk Moth was a supervillain who had been terrorizing Paris for the better part of two years.

But no one could really argue that not all of his ideas have been good. Or well thought out. Or in any way sensible even.

Like the time he akumatized a baby.

Or the time he akumatized a girl to transform people into exact replicas of herself.

Or the fact he keeps akumatizing Mr. Ramier for going on 29 times at this point…

Or the other time he akumatized a baby…

Times that he destroyed Paris. Times that he nearly destroyed the world. Times that he gave people powers that were completely contradictory to the goals of getting the Miraculous he was after by erasing the heroes from existence or transforming them in ways that made the Miraculous inaccessible.

But none of his akumatizations had ever gotten him as much hate, caused as much misery, were were ultimately as pointless as this most recent incident.

Aku-maid.

It was known the instant she was akumatized. As soon as she was transformed, a wave of power enveloped the city. And within that wave, half of the people of Paris were transformed as well. 

…the male half.

Her power was to transform all the men of Paris. She didn’t even have a weapon or attack that did it, it just happened almost instantaneously. All men suddenly found themselves changed.

Or rather, their outfits…

“Ah!”

“What the hell—!?”

“I can’t get it off!”

One by one, every male in Paris suddenly found themselves in a much different state of attire. What had just been a normal day full of various styles and appearances had all suddenly become very…frilly.

“WHY AM I A MAID?!”

Much as implied her namesake, the akuma’s power involved transforming whatever any man was wearing into some variation of a maid outfit.

Every man.

All over Paris.

From Andre Bourgeois, who has refused to leave his office to make an official statement…

“ANDRE!” Audrey shouted, banging on the door. “Get out here this instant!”

“But, honey, I can’t be seen like this!”

To Roger Raincomprix, who has tried to continue his normal duties despite the…change of uniform…

“Stop in the name of the law!” Roger shouted, reaching into his pockets in an automatic reaction to try to get his handcuffs. While the dress he was wearing did still have pockets, the only item they procured was a cleaning rag, which was notably less threatening as the suspect in question stared for a moment before deciding to take off.

“HEY!”

And yes, even to…

“I’m a Macrophage!” Adrien gushed happily as he lifted his lengthy skirt to give a twirl.

…even to Adrien Agreste, who was apparently the only one to find anything pleasant about the current crisis.

Nino stared.

“Dude. Seriously?”

“I’ve always wanted to cosplay!”

Nino, having been long-since exposed to his friend’s deep love for anime in its many forms, at least knew what a Macrophage was. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about the way Adrien took to the long pale dress and cap.

Kim rested a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Just let the guy enjoy this.”

“At least somebody is.” Nathaniel muttered bitterly as he tried to hide as behind his sketchbook. It was a futile attempt, of course, as he at most only covered his face, leaving the red dress, white apron with pockets, and knee-high boots on full display.

“I don’t understand how he can.” Max complained. He tugged at his own skirt in vain, looking at Adrien’s ankle-length ensemble enviously. The skirt was much shorter than he would have liked—reaching a couple inches above his thigh and almost seemed to be defying gravity to stay that way despite his attempts to get it to either flatten or otherwise lower. “I question the design choices.”

“But you look just like Misaki from Maid Sama! And Nathaniel looks like Lizbeth!” Adrien insisted. “It’s totally a cosplay!”

Max just stared incredulously. He was wearing a black dress with puffy sleeves that tapered off just shy of his elbow, white apron, a cap, and thigh-high black stockings and knee-high boots, it seemed Adrien did have a point.

Max, in all fairness, didn’t particularly care in favor of the problems that came with suddenly finding himself in a short dress, heels, and a corset.

“I just can’t peg where Kim or Nino’s outfits are from.” He continued, studying the outfits in question contemplatively. “But give me a little time! It’ll come to me!”

The boys had been having an afternoon hangout session in the park. No girls. No teachers. No Gabriel Agreste or bodyguards to whisk certain teen models away. It was supposed to be a normal non-drama-filled day.

…which was naturally when it became something less than normal and certainly more than drama-filled.

“I think I get why girls complain about this sort of thing now.” Kim said, looking at his shoes. “These heels are kind of uncomfortable…”

“Are you sure it’s the heels and not the flippers?” Nino asked, annoyed.

Sure enough, Kim was wearing flipper-heels. They were black and also had black ankle straps with a little bow on each. This strange footwear did seem to go with Kim’s talent in swimming, which was also emphasized by the ruffle maid swimsuit they matched with.

“Nah, it’s definitely the heels.” Kim insisted.

So this was what their all-boys’ afternoon had come to.

Kim was wobbling on unsteady heels.

Nathaniel groaned and kept his ever reddening face covered.

Max was questioning where they could procure jackets. Long jackets.

Adrien was giggling to himself and asking if they could do a full Cells at Work group cosplay.

And Nino paled, suddenly realizing something.

"Guys. Guys, we have to hide!"

"Why?" Kim asked. "It's annoying, but this akuma doesn't seem really dangerous."

"No, you don't get it!" Nino hissed. "If Alya catches us, we will NEVER live this down!"

Nathaniel looked over the edge of his sketchbook. “Alya wouldn’t actually post pictures of us to the Ladyblog, would she?”

A long pause followed.

The boys paled.

Except for Adrien, who turned to them with a gasp of excitement. “Do you think she would? We could do a group picture!”

All the other boys paled even more, looking downright ill.

And immediately took off running.

Or at least as well as they could with heels. None of them made it very far without tripping, stumbling, or simply struggling to stay upright as they still tried to move away from the area as quickly as the heels would allow.

“But what’s wrong with—?”

“JUST RUN, ADRIEN!”

“Who thought maid outfits with high heels was a good idea?! How can anyone be expected to clean in these things?

“I will never draw high heels on a super heroine again.”

“I can’t breathe! Who created corsets?! What objective does this achieve besides crushing one’s lungs?”

Nino groaned, still running. “I hope Hawk Moth is suffering as much as we are!”

_____________________

If Nino Lahiffe had the ability to break the fourth wall and peer into the events happening outside of his immediate vicinity, he would be happy to find this was actually the case.

And he would laugh.

Oh, how he would laugh.

“Sir…?”

“Don’t.” Came the dark growl from a very unhappy supervillain. “Don’t say anything, Nathalie..."

This was an akuma that impacted every male in Paris. Every male.

…even to Hawk Moth, himself.

“Why did this happen?”

It would appear that even Hawk Moth was not immune to Aku-Maid’s power as he had been similarly transformed. And unfortunately, due to the change, he could no longer access his Miraculous. The Butterfly broach had disappeared, having been transformed along with his outfit.

And his outfit had…actually left much to be desired.

Which was truthfully just a nice way of saying it was ugly.

Really, really ugly.

Normally the picture of stoicism, Nathalie had to pretend to cough to avoid reacting.

“Can’t you order the akuma to undo it?” She eventually was able to ask.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes in concentration. “No. It’s no good. I’ve lost the link!”

His eyes widened and he clutched his chest in a panic.

“Where is the Miraculous?!” Hawk Moth demanded, trying—and failing to pull at the tasteless dress. But as others across the city had already discovered, the clothes were magic and would not be removed or displaced. Not even the frock or the cap he now wore.

“Sir, you were transformed when you changed. It looks like the Butterfly Miraculous was transformed along with you.”

He froze, eyes widening in horror. “But that’s—”

He grasped at the empty place on his chest. Where once had been his lapel and pin now only had ruffles and a leathery texture. His mask remained in place, though it was now fully black except for the openings around his eyes and mouth, which were bordered with a lighter grey color. The material and outfit overall had a shine to it that could be found on any wetsuit.

To put it nicely: he looked atrocious.

To put it bluntly: he looked like some sort of BDSM role-player with a maid kink.

So it was fortunate, perhaps, that no one else in Paris would have to be subject to the sight.

Except Nathalie. Who was probably going to have nightmares.

Or a coronary from the laughter she was trying to hold back.

It was admittedly a bit hard to tell.

But it seemed she was handling the situation a bit better than Hawk Moth, despite the fact that the man was currently unable to see himself or the full extent of the monstrosity he now wore.

…this was probably for the best. Given the man’s fashion sense, there was really no telling whether he would be horrified or inspired, and nobody would want to find out.

“I can’t contact the akuma! And I can’t call it back!”

He moaned, covering his…already covered face with his hands. “I’ll never be taken seriously again!”

Nathalie resolutely held back from pointing out he was barely being taken seriously now.

“It’s…not that bad?” She tried. Not very well, but she tried.

Hawk Moth clutched his head in horror. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir can stop this akuma, we’re doomed!”

“Sir, it’s just an akuma that puts men in maid outfits. It’s really not that bad.”

“DOOOOOOMED!!!”

__________________________

The akuma, for her part, was unaware of her benefactor’s misery, too busy enjoying the abject misery of everyone else around her.

Nobody knew just what had set the girl off to get her akumatized in the first place. Her comments about men being “the eye-candy now” suggested an argument. The maid outfits involved suggested what the topic of the argument had been regarding.

To be honest, nobody had actually realized she was the akuma responsible. She did appear fairly normal by akuma terms, dressed in a seemingly authentic Victorian era dress more befitting as an authentic Lady’s Maid compared the frillier, lacier varieties that the men around her had suddenly found themselves in. What would normally have gotten her a few odds looks was mostly ignored in the face of the sudden change. Few even took notice of her dark purple skin or black hair. Or the fan in her hand.

“THAT’S RIGHT! SEE HOW YOU LIKE BEING OBJECTIFIED!”

The yelling…was a bit harder to miss.

It was the first thing that drew the attention of the three girls settled at the cafe.

The second thing was the various cries of horror as several of the men around them suddenly discovered their state of dress transformed into…well…dresses. Of a variety that made the little cafe appear more like a maid cafe than anything.

The third thing was the appearance of a familiar face running down the road, holding up his long white dress to make running easier as he looked for a place to hide.

Marinette stared.

“ADRIEN?!”

Adrien Agreste was running around in a long white and pale cream Victorian-era dress and cap, looking like Cinderella running from the ball. Except a maid.

A quick glance to her companions showed that both Alya and Kagami were similarly staring in befuddlement, so this was neither her imagination or a fever dream.

“Adrien? What’s going on?” Alya asked for everyone.

“It’s an akuma!” He replied, quickly. “She’s putting everybody into cosplay!”

“…cosplay?”

“Yeah!”

“…everybody?”

He paused, glancing around. “Well…all the guys, I think?”

Marinette stared.

“…Just that?” Alya asked, thankfully taking over while Marinette’s brain started to become aware that this WAS Adrien she was talking to. “She’s not doing anything else besides putting guys into…‘cosplays’?”

He blinked in confusion. “I…think so?”

“She isn’t…I don’t know…commanding you or anything?”

“Well, she hasn’t yet. Which, really, isn’t so bad for an akuma if you think about it.” He said with a frown before he noticed the strange look on Kagami’s face. “Kagami, are you okay?”

Kagami made a strangled sound.

“Marinette?”

Marinette pretended to choke on a drink from an empty glass to avoid speaking.

“Can I add to your order?” The waiter came by, seeming unconcerned by the ruckus or the act that he was now wearing a rather cutesy maid outfit the likes of which would be seen in a maid cafe in Japan.

“You don’t seem put off by this.” Alya pointed out, noting his relatively unfazed attitude compared to the panicking of the other men around them…or the gushing from Adrien.

The waiter took it in stride.

“It’s okay.” He replied blankly. “I’m already dead inside.”

“Oh.”

He turned to Kagami. “Do you need anything else, Miss?”

Kagami was still staring at Adrien, blushing furiously.

“I think I have a problem.”

“You mean a kink?”

“A. Problem.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Story of my life.” The waiter replied as he refilled her glass of water, either unaware or uncaring of the specific nature of her trouble.

Alya gasped in sudden realization. “Wait! If this is happening here then…” She turned to Adrien. “Where were Nino and the boys?” He blinked, curious. “Oh, they decided to head home. Why?”

An almost sinister smirk formed on Alya’s face. One that would have anyone it was directed at cowering in fear. And strong enough to be felt from several blocks away.

Unbeknownst to them, Nino felt that smirk like a trail of cold fingers down his back, and promptly threw himself into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

As if she sensed this, Alya slammed several bills on the table and dashed out the door.

“GOTTA GO!”

Realizing an akuma was about, Marinette was right on her heels. She found a nearby alleyway and immediately prepared to transform and face this latest threat.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD.” She broke down, letting out the laughter she’d been trying so hard to hold in. “He’s a dork! The boy I’m crushing on is a complete DORK who is in to cosplaying! He thinks maid outfits are COSPLAY!”

…or she would be.

“And here I’ve been driving myself nuts with anxiety over just asking him out and he doesn’t even—”

Any minute now…

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to stop the akuma!”

“Can’t I just take a picture first?”

“MARINETTE!”

“Oh fine…”

_____________________

Luka didn’t realize anything had happened. He felt a bit off balanced for a moment, and a bit colder, but attributed that to being on the Liberty. So he simply shifted his stance to be a bit more steady and continued playing. It wasn’t until the drum stopped that he realized something was actually wrong.

The look of shock from Mylene and the following shriek from Ivan cemented it.

He spun around, not sure what could have elicited such a cry from his fellow bandmate. And at first, he couldn’t really tell what had happened. Ivan was crouched behind the drum set, covering his face with his hands and trembling in what appeared to be mortification.

Then he noticed the mobcap on Ivan’s head, which he was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. And Ivan’s shirt seemed distinctly…fluffier and frillier than he remembered seeing a few minutes ago. He tried to move closer to offer help, only for his own balance to be off. And when he looked down…

Oh.

The dress was new.

As were the stockings.

And the notably thinner and sleeker heels on his boots.

He hummed to himself, considering the change.

“Akuma?” Juleka asked him.

“Most likely.” He replied.

Mylene had rushed up to their practice stage and to Ivan’s side, even as he moaned for her to not look at him. The poor guy was completely red in embarrassment. Seeing how upset he was, the other three had backed away, leaving Mylene to try to help her boyfriend.

“Luka, are you okay?” Rose asked worriedly, trying to respect Ivan’s need for space while also checking in on their other effected bandmate.

“I’m fine. It was just a surprise at first.” He replied.

It wasn’t every day that you suddenly found yourself in a maid outfit, after all. It was a simple outfit. White off the shoulder puffy sleeves with black frills. A black tube skirt. White apron. And…he reached to his neck where a weight was, feeling a choker.

Huh…

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Honestly, he could be in worse.

Rose seemed surprised at that. “Really? Even with those shoes?”

He looked down at the shoes in question. The boots were his style—surprisingly, given it was an akuma. The higher heels were definitely different from his norm, and clearly what Rose was referring to. In any other circumstances, she would be right.

But...

Luka smiled, shifting his stance and resting a hand on his hip. “Well, someone had to teach Jules to walk in heels. And I couldn’t show her if I didn’t know how myself.

Juleka huffed. “Don’t say that like you didn’t enjoy playing dress up.”

Luka merely curtsied, not only showing off more of his slightly ripped and punk-looking fishnet stockings, but almost proudly displaying his ability to move fluently in heels.

Rose appropriately “oo-ed” and “aah-ed” at his display. Juleka merely shook her head and smiled. Ivan was still recovering from his panic attack and had resolutely refused to come out from behind the drums, despite Mylene’s reassurances.

“So it has to be an akuma, right?” Rose asked.

“If it is, I want a picture or two, at least.” Juleka muttered as she admired Luka’s outfit, mumbling about commissioning Marinette to recreate it in her size. She hadn’t known maids could come in this style.

Mylene nodded from her place at Ivan’s side. “Though it seems rather fortunate if this is all the akuma is doing.”

“We don’t know if that is it, though.” Luka warned. “For all we know, there could be some other ability she has if she catches us. It would probably be safer if we hid out inside until this is over.”

The others agreed. And Anarka, bless her soul, actually came up with a large blanket for Ivan to wrap himself in to preserve his dignity. Then she and Mylene helped the taller teen to safely relocate to inside. Much like Luka, Ivan’s shoes had changed, but he was substantially less able to maneuver in them. And no amount of effort or force on his part could seem to separate the heels from his feet.

Once he and the others were inside, Luka moved to follow. He hesitated, however, at the sound of something landing behind him.

“Viperion? We’ll need your help.”

He turned to see Ladybug standing tall. And was that perhaps a hint of blush on her face?

Oh. 

A shame.

It looked like Juleka wouldn’t be getting her pictures, after all...

_____________________

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He shuddered, backing away from the door as far as possible.

“Ninoooooo…”

It was a fight for survival.

“C’mon, Nino. Just open the door.”

The survival of his dignity, but still!

He’d lost track of the others and immediately rushed home and to the safety of his room. His room, which he could lock and hide away in until this all blew over.

“I have a key!” Came Chris’s voice. “Somewhere…”

“Give it and I won’t take any pictures of you.”

“Deal!”

His room, which his traitorous little brother was willing to allow the enemy entry into.

Under any normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be this desperate. But if Alya caught him like this…

Black dress. Puffy at the shoulder, sleeves that extended to his wrists and were bound by white cuffs. A white smock tied back with a white ribbon. White bow at the neck and white frills along the bottom of the dress?

Oh yeah…Alya would never let this go…

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten into all those anime Adrien pushed him into! So what if the maids were cute? And sure, he’d admit he's had a thought or two of Alya in such attire...

But how was he supposed to know Alya had such thoughts as well? And in the complete opposite direction! Clearly this was the akuma’s magic punishing him!

Nino looked to his window.

It would be a long fall, but it was his only escape.

But would the broken legs be worth it when Alya would soon figure out what he did and be able to catch up to him easily?

Maybe he could try to climb up instead…but in these heels? It was suicide!

“Fufufu!”

…screw it. 

He opened up his window, only to meet a new pair of eyes.

Ladybug stared in surprise from her place at his windowsill, a certain box in hand.

“…hi?”

“Oh thank god!” He exclaimed. He took her by her shoulders, half leaning out and half pulling her in. “Alya’s insisting on taking pictures! Please tell me you have my Miraculous with you!”

“Actually, about that—”

“I don’t care! I’ll do anything! Just please—SAVE ME!”

Ladybug looked back behind her to a distant rooftop and the other allies she’d left behind.

The sound of a key jingling could be heard and Nino stared up at her, pleadingly.

Well, she could never resist the eyes…

By the time they’d gotten the door open, the room was empty.

Nino was gone.

_____________________

Six heroes stood assembled.

Ladybug.

Chat Noir.

Carapace.

Viperion.

King Monkey.

Pegasus.

Six heroes.

Five of whom were male.

And…still wearing some semblance of feminine maid-like outfits.

Ladybug wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried.

“What the hell?! I thought the Miraculous were supposed to change us into our hero suits?” Nino groused.

Contrary to his hopes and expectations, using the Miraculous had not transformed him into his normal Carapace look, but had rather simply given him a different outfit. The dress itself was green and had a turtle shell pattern, while the apron and waist belts were a brown color. The bowknot around his neck was a dark green and a brown to match the apron. He wore stockings. And to his very limited relief, his shoes were flats instead of heels.

“Well, at least this skirt is longer.” Pegasus said, now wearing a dark brown blouse and bicycle skirt. The skirt went to just above his ankles, for which he was grateful. But this seemed to be countered by the increase of height to his heels.

Plus no corset. The outfit was still fit tightly and not very comfortable, but at least he could breathe now.

“Though I believe we’re getting away from maid-wear now.” Chat said, conversationally.

Pegasus gave him a flat look. “I’m not complaining.”

If Chat had witnessed his earlier ensemble, surely he would understand.

King Monkey, for his part, seemed somewhat appeased with his Miraculous suit. It was a notably more Eastern style of dress, appearing more like robes worn by palace servants. He wore a light brown waistcoat with wide sleeves over a blouse and a wrap-around skirt. It looked heavy, but Kim seemed to have no trouble with it. Maybe it was made of a lighter material…?

And Viperion’s dress was different in style as well. Whereas his maid outfit as Luka had been more punk, this was more sleek. Wearing a green sleeveless dress and white smock, as well as what appeared to be a green corset. The dress had a slit at the sides, giving more maneuverability for his legs…as well as more show, given the appearance of a garter belt and stockings. His shoes were high heeled but including a beautiful snake design that wrapped around his ankles. To finish it off, rather than remain bare, his arms were covered in what appeared to be loose green sleeves that started at his elbows and extended to his wrists.

…maybe a picture or two wouldn’t hurt? Or three? Because the amount of details on these outfits were amazing and she was just brimming with ideas now…

Ladybug broke out of her musings when someone tugged on her shoulder to get her attention.

It was Chat. Chat who, much like the other heroes, as dressed in a fantastical outfit. Though a maid outfit, it was definitely more cat-themed with a giant paw-like gloves covering his hands, a paw print on his apron, and bow and bell on his tail which rang as he shifted.

What material was that made of, anyway? She kind of wanted to give it a feel and see if she could find something to compare it to. Maybe a quick sketch?

Oh. Right.

Akuma.

Maybe if she was lucky, they could finish this quickly so she could rush back home and take notes while she still had the ideas bouncing in her brain.

…maybe someone would have gotten pictures by then…?

“Ladybug?” Chat whispered, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes?”

Chat frowned in concern. “Is the Guardian okay with this?”

Ladybug froze.

“PSST! Ladybug!” Came a voice from a nearby rooftop, drawing her attention.

“Master Fu?”

“Ladybug! Here’s the Miracle Box. Take as many allies as you can and resolve this as soon as possible!”

“Master? Are…you hiding in a box?”

“No questions! Just go!”

“…he’s fine.”

Chat seemed uncertain, but decided not to pry.

“Let’s just split up and find the akuma.” Ladybug said. “But don’t engage until we’re all together!”

With that, the six split into three groups, with Chat and Carapace going one way and King Monkey and Pegasus going another, leaving Ladybug and Viperion searching together with the former trying not to get caught stealing peeks at the latter.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a smile.

…trying. The key word was trying not to get caught.

“No! Nothing!” She replied quickly. “I’m just…surprised that you can still move so quickly in those heels.”

“I’ve had practice.” He explained, still smiling. He even lifted one leg behind him, managing to stand perfectly balanced even on one leg in heels.

“I…see.”

Part of her wanted very much to laugh. It was the same part that had found this entire day ridiculous. The other part of her was her inner artist at work and really wanted to make a few sketches inspired from the presented outfits. Like Viperion’s sleeves…and those shoes with a snake coil wrapping around the ankle…

“Ladybug!”

Gaah! Focus!

She turned towards the shout to find King Monkey and Pegasus stumbling towards her.

Her fingers twitched. She ignored it.

“We found the akuma.” King Monkey reported. “She doesn’t seem to be doing anything. Just…kind or roaming around.”

“And laughing.” Pegasus added bitterly. “She appears to be doing a lot of that.”

“How’s THAT for ‘doll them up’?” Came a shout from street level. “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?!”

As if on cue…

Ladybug and the others peeked over the edge of the roof.

“Has she displayed any other powers?” She asked.

“No.” Pegasus replied. “From what we could see, her power has already been activated to…obvious effect.” He hesitated, resolutely avoiding mentioning his new outfit or the indignity he’d already suffered. “She has only been laughing. And tripping the occasional person while searching for someone in particular—possibly the one responsible for her ire.”

Ladybug nodded. “At least she’s distracted and doesn’t know we’re here. We just need a plan of attack before we try to fight her.”

“No problem!” King Monkey said with a grin as he reached for his weapon. “We can just do a head on attack with our weapons and—”

They stared.

In place of his staff was a broom. A normal cleaning broom.

They sent cautious glances to each other before they checked their own inventory.

Said inventory consisted of a broom, a bucket, and a feather duster.

“I believe that constitutes as a problem.” Pegasus stated worriedly.

“That’s no fair!” King Monkey exclaimed. “Adrien was able to summon a machete!”

Ladybug blanched at that. “A what?!”

Pegasus pushed up his glasses. “I believe it’s a component of his…‘cosplay’?”

“Pfft!” Ladybug covered her mouth with her hand.

“Ladybug?”

“I-it’s nothing!” She replied hurriedly.

Viperion raised his eyebrow at her but didn’t comment.

King Monkey at least seemed to take it in stride.

“Now we just need a plan for attack!”

“With what?!” Pegasus questioned, waving the feather duster in frustration. “Our weapons don’t work!”

“More like our weapons aren’t actually weapons.” Viperion said, considering his bucket.

“I could smack her.” King Monkey offered, holding up his broom. “Maybe your feather duster has dust on it and could make her sneeze?”

Pegasus gave him a flat look.

“I think the broom is the best weapon we have right now.”

“Don’t knock a bucket!” King Monkey commanded, resolutely. “I got one stick on my head one time and it took hours to get it off! Buckets are evil, man!”

Pegasus sighed and rubbed his head. “It concerns me that you’re the second person I know whom that has happened to.”

Ladybug coughed, discretely trying to draw attention off that particular subject lest identities be at risk. “Anyway, I think I have a plan...”

______________________

To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult of an akuma. Especially not with six of them teaming up against it.

Akumaid truly see to have no ability other than the initial one of transforming what any male in Paris was wearing into something embarrassing...unless you were Adrien, apparently. Aside from that, she showed no other power—neither over the clothes themselves or the people wearing them. Well, she wasn’t controlling any of the victims or shrinking the clothing to choke them at any rate...which if you think about it, was rather lame for an akuma in the power department.

The only real disadvantage in battle came in the difficulty the boys had moving freely in their current outfits. And the afore noted lack of proper weaponry.

Their advantage of surprising was ruined by Chat’s bell ringing before they could ambush her, and both Carapace and Pegasus losing balance with their heels and falling over. King Monkey’s outfit, while longer, also meant more fabric to flap about and resist his movements regardless of how light it may have been, so he wasn’t able to get a hit in fast enough before the akuma turned on him and knocked him away.

Chat was able to get a hit in though.

With his…Kitty Wand…

“THIS IS MAGICAL PUNISHMENT!” He shouted as he smacked the akuma over the head.

“Chat. Chat no. Chat why?”

And Ladybug had hopelessly lost her composure by this point and was laughing. Just laughing. Laughing so hard she was crying actual tears as she smacked her own thigh in her struggle to breathe. Viperion was trying to help her stay standing, keeping an arm around her to support her as she half leaned and half chuckled tears into his chest.

“What’s going on? Does the akuma have some power over Ladybug, too?” King Monkey asked.

…

Viperion sighed.

“Sure. Something to that effect.”

Ladybug wheezed.

“LADYBUG!”

“Lu-haha-lucky haha-charm!”

It said something when her own Lucky Charm magicked up a paper bag. With Ladybug still victim to her fit of giggles, Viperion simply put the bag over her face and had her try to breathe.

“A paper bag doesn’t help with out of control laughing.” Pegasus noted as he forced himself to his feet.

“Do you want to try to figure out the Lucky Charm?” Viperion bit out in annoyance, Ladybug still shaking in his arms.

Pegasus coughed and backed away. “No, thank you.”

Ladybug let out another giggle.

“All right, enough! I’ll stop her!” Carapace shouted, reaching for his back. “With my…serving plate.”

His shield.

His precious shield was gone.

“…Carapace?” Ladybug asked.

The newly rendered Turtle Maid sighed and simply threw the plate as he had his shield, not expecting much.

…the plate slice flew through the air at a surprising speed, but missed the akuma entirely. Instead, it sailed past her, hitting a light post.

Ladybug had expected it to bounce, but instead there was a sound of shredding metal as the serving plate actually tore through the lamp post and into the concrete itself.

The lamp post, now detached, tilted and fell over—conveniently on top of the akuma before she had the time to realize what was happening and move out of the way.

SLAM!

It fell on top of her and she hit the ground.

“Huzzah?” Kim asked.

“Well…that’s one way to defeat an akuma.” Pegasus marveled.

“Great. Now can we fix this already?” Carapace asked impatiently. If they took too much longer, someone was bound to catch them.

That someone would probably be Alya.

And that was the last thing he wanted at this point.

“But I kind of wanted to make a sketch at least…” Ladybug muttered to herself, holding the paper bag Charm to her chest.

“LADYBUG!”

She waved her hands insistently. “I’m on it!”

But she could dream…

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

It was with some disappointment that the Miraculous Cure wiped away the outfits of the other heroes, returning them to their original costumes.

“OH THANK GOD!”

“That was…horrible…”

“Corsets were invented as a torture method, I swear…”

“Shieldy!” Carapace exclaimed, hugging the shield in relief. “Never leave me again!”

“You okay now, Ladybug?” Chat asked her in worry.

“I’m fine.” She said, even though she wasn’t really. She felt like she’d missed a chance, even if it was for the greater good. But it would have been an abuse of her power to be taking pictures of the guys in that state and she already felt bad enough for breaking down laughing in the middle of the fight.

In that moment, however, the loveliness of ladybugs that made up the Cure returned from their task of restoring Paris to flow over Ladybug herself before vanishing, leaving her holding an envelope in their wake. Curious, she opened the envelope…

She gasped.

Inside were a multitude of photos of the other heroes. From different angles. In different positions. All of them in their new outfits.

Ladybug bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding and drawing attention to herself.

…Thank you, Tikki.

Best. Kwami. Ever. “Ladybug…” Carapace said in growing wariness. “What is that?”

“Nothing!”

“Ladybug. That better not be what I think it is…”

She shoved the photos back in the envelope.

“It’s nothing at all!”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Noticing the stand off, the others approached as well.

“It was just something I was missing, yeah.”

“Then let us see it.”

“Can’t.” She replied, clutching the envelope to her chest. “It’s…Ladybug stuff.”

“Hand it over. Right now!”

"NOOO! THESE ARE FOR THE FUTURE OF FASHIOOOON!”

“GIVE US THE PHOTOS!”

“Wait—did she get any of all of us in a group cosplay pic?”

“NOT NOW, CHAT!”

Unfortunately, that small distraction was all she needed to get away.

Viperion, the only one having been pretty nonchalant this whole time, simply watched her leave and the others shout after her.

“…isn’t she going to take our Miraculous back?”

_________________________

Angela sighed, already dreading what was to come.

It was a humiliating end to an already humiliating week as the former akuma victim had been forced to return to her job to go over the updates for the new Ladybug game with the rest of her team.

Said updates were apparently to include maid outfits for the female heroes thanks to one particular coworker who had decided to work on maid outfits for the female heroes instead of the level he was assigned. It had been part of the reason she had been angry enough to be akumatized.

The fact that he was insistent on shoving his maid fetish into the game for no good reason other than having them be eye candy was the other part.

The images in question that he insisted on bringing featured the three female super heroes of the city: Ladybug, Rena Rouge, and Queen Bee.

But not as anyone had ever seen them.

Instead of their usual hero suits, the three girls were portrayed in sultry, even provocative poses. And most notably, all three were wearing some mockery of a French Maid outfit…as what would be believed by Americans, no less.

They might as well have been the initial sketches of pinup posters.

“You can’t still be serious!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got akumatized just because I was jealous that someone else had a good idea.” He said bitingly and giving her a pointed look, perhaps still a bit bitter of the aforementioned experience that her akumatization had caused.

“It’s not a good idea, John.” Angela countered. “There was no reason to have the girls be running in maid outfits.”

He shrugged. “We could just say an akuma did it. After all, we did just get an akuma who did exactly that.” He said, giving her another look.

She clenched her fists and was about to retort when their team lead entered the room.

The meeting commenced and she’d been forced to bite her tongue. Each of the team members went over their progress and updates for their contribution to the game. Level design. Enemies. Testing.

And then came his grand achievement. Instead of the level he was assigned, he gave scantily clad designs for three of the eight known heroes.

What effort.

“I was thinking we really need to include something to make our game stand out, so I made some extra skins for the heroes.” He bragged, sending her a smug look. “The appeal would sell plenty of copies.”

“Or the controversy.” Angela muttered back before turning to the team lead and hoping that the man leading their group had more empathy…or sense.

The team lead looked over the designs with an analyzing gaze. Tiffeny, despite the initial impression his name would give, was a rather buff man who took no shit. But was also a guy. Who liked guy things. But did those things include young women in maid costumes?

After a moment, Tiffeny dropped the pictures on the table and looked at John incredulously. “You know, if you were going to base skins off recent events, you could at least have been authentic.”

John stared. “What?”

“It was the guys who were affected by Akumaid. Not the girls. If we’re going to do maids, we need to keep it true to life, just like the rest of the designs we’ve included. We talked about this when we started this project.”

“But it’s what the audience wants!” John argued.

“Do you know who comprises the majority of our audience?” Tiffeny asked. “Girls. Girls, gay guys, and those who are exploring their interests. Guys in the outfits would sell leagues more than the girls.” He started ticking his fingers “It’s different. It’s original. And it’s based in actual events. People would love it.”

“But…they’ll love this!”

“Man, if people wanted to see sexy girls in skimpy clothing, they’d play literally any other game! Or watch porn.” Tiffeny explained. “But what game do you know of has had guys in maid outfits?”

“Well...”

“Exactly. We want to stand out. And we even have recent events as justification. So if you’re going to be wasting time you should be spending on level-making to put people in maid skins, then get those male heroes some maid costumes.”

“But that’s not fair!” John exclaimed.

Tiffeny paused at that. “Hmm…you’re right.”

With that, he turned to her. “You’re good at designing. Make some butler outfits for the girls. Something dashing to serve as a counter for the guys.”

Angela blinked in surprise for a moment before smiling.

“Sure thing!”

“You know…” one of the other workers noted. “While we’re on the subject, I WAS thinking of some medieval armor designs for the girls and princess dresses for the guys.”

“Hey yeah! Like a light green for Viperion!”

“Maybe teal might be better?”

“Ooo! How about…”

Soon enough, everyone seemed to be invested in the new plan.

Everyone that is, except John.

“Lovely!” Tiffeny said cheerfully. “Plan it out and bring the concepts to me later.”

With a new task in hand and John’s pouting to forever be a memory to hold onto, it seemed her day was looking up…

_________________________

“That was some akuma battle.” Marinette said as she slid into her seat next to Alya.

The reporter, however, only looked annoyed. “Ladybug had apparently called all the male heroes and I completely missed it!” She groaned and leaned back in her seat, bemoaning the lost opportunity.

If she’d hadn’t been so focused on tracking Nino for the purpose of collecting blackmail ensuring his safety, she would have been able to catch all of the male heroes in their maid outfits.

Marinette smiled. “You know…I may have a connection…”

Alya gasped.

“No.”

Marinette giggled and slid over her phone with a picture showing.

“NO WAY!” She cried out before staring up at Marinette in shock. “Girl, you have to send me these!”

“Wait—you have what now?” Nino had arrived, initially hopeful that he had avoided the worst of that day only to have those hopes immediately dashed upon arriving to see the two girls sharing what could only have been one thing…

“I have pictures of the heroes in their new outfits.” Marinette replied cheerfully as she swiped through her phone. “Oh look, Nino! You’re in here, too!”

“WHAT?! NO!” He shouted, rushing forward.

Marinette quickly grabbed back her phone and hid it in her pocket with an overly sweet and not at all innocent grin.

“Mari, come on, no! Don’t do this to me!” He begged.

“Don’t do this to ME!” Alya cut in. “You can’t just show me that and take it away! That’s just not fair!”

“Don’t worry.” Marinette assured them. “It’s going where all my blackmail material goes.”

“Wait what?”

“Since when do you have blackmail material?”

“Since somebody started a game of ‘let’s take pictures of Marinette while she’s asleep and post them online’.” Marinette replied dryly.

Nino groaned. “Come on! I said I was sorry!”

“And now I can be just as sorry.” She replied blithely.

Which was to say: not sorry at all.

“Come on! Alya made me do it!”

“It was just in fun! Marinette! Please!”

“Do you want me to beg? Cry? I’ll cry.”

“I’ll pay you! Pretty please! At least the heroes if nothing else!”

“Oh no you don’t!”

“My blog NEEDS this!”

Marinette smiled at the minor chaos she had caused as the normally happy couple bickered with each other.

Sweet sweet music.

“Hey, Marinette!”

And speaking of sweet…

She turned to look up at a certain blond-haired model as he arrived at his own desk. Though he seemed to be a bit distracted by the arguing couple.

“Hey, Adrien!” She greeted, for once with no stutter to speak of.

“Hey, um…are they okay?” He asked, gesturing to the two.

“Oh, they’re fine.” She said, waving them off. “Just…a bit excited over the recent akuma.”

At that, Adrien brightened. “Wasn’t it awesome?”

She nodded, trying to keep her laughter inside.

“You…ah…enjoyed yourself then?”

Adrien shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, it’s not often I get to dress up in a way that’s ‘silly’. Or in anything that isn’t promoting Father’s brand. And I’ve never gotten to cosplay. So it was…really fun.”

Oh. Ouch. Okay, that one kind of hurt. The poor Sunshine Child…

“You know…” Marinette said, leaning over her desk and smiling at him. “I’ve seen a bit of that one anime you mentioned.”

“Cells at Work?” He asked, brightening up.

She nodded. “Mmhmm. I could make you a jacket based off the lead Red Blood Cell. And if you like, I can keep it so you can wear it whenever we hang out.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Sure! Maybe you can come over sometime so we can try a fitting. We could even play Mecha Strike.”

Adrien beamed. “That sounds great! Thanks, Marinette!”

She waved him off and went back to full sitting in her seat.

Alya and Nino both became distracted from their arguing by the miracle they had just witnessed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just spoken to Adrien Agreste…and not a stutter to be heard!

“What the heck, girl?” Alya whispered, sliding into her seat beside her friend. “Since when could you do THAT and why haven’t you done it sooner? I could swear I saw hearts in his eyes!”

Marinette shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “After seeing Adrien Agreste in a maid dress, I kind of wondered why I was so scared of talking to him to begin with.”

Alya laughed. “Well, at least something good came out of this, then.”

“You know...more good WOULD come out of this if I had pics of those heroes..." 

“Really, Alya?”

“You’re pretty much the only one who managed to get any shots of the male heroes!” Alya exclaimed. “Seriously, how?!”

Marinette giggled.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

________________________

OMAKE 1:

Knock! Knock!

“Felix?” His mother called on the other side of the locked and barricaded door. “Will you be coming out?”

“That depends. Do you have a camera?”

A pause. Which was all the answer he needed.

“Then no.”

OMAKE 2:

Fortunately, in the midst of their searching, the team had managed to find the akuma and her primary target, getting between the two.

“So what happened?” Ladybug asked him.

John gripped his skirt, nervously. “She’s my coworker in developing a new video game and she didn’t like my input.”

“What set her off?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “She’s one of those types who wants to take the fun out of video games.”

“What?” Ladybug blinked.

“Okay, so I wanted to put some maid costumes in the game! It was just for fun! Besides, it would have added a bit of pizazz! Something for the players to enjoy!”

“You could just try making a good game.” Pegasus pointed out. “If you have to rely on a cheap gimmick to get buyers, it may not be a good product.”

"I'm sorry, really! I mean, sure, I'm still going to put it in the game, because who wouldn't want hot maids, but still! That doesn't mean I deserve this!"

The akuma raised her fist and shouted at him. “THEY ARE HEROES, DAMMIT! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN MAID SKINS JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE GIRLS!”

Ladybug blanched. “Wait…is the game about me?”

Pegasus coughed and looked away. “There have been…rumors, yes.”

Viperion tilted his head. “That seems like a double standard though…since we’re the ones in maid outfits...”

“Not the point, Viperion!”

Ladybug frowned.

“I don’t think I want to help now.”

“Ladybug!”

[httpsaiki]

Saiki with an s/o who just cups his cheeks and tells him they live him for the first time ever.

Hi! This is adorable, thank you so much for this request!! I did a story, not headcanons and it kind of got off track, but I hope you like it!

—

I went into way too much detail about cupcakes in this, I got carried away, oops. I'm back, though! After months I finally refound my love for this show and along with it my inspiration for writing! I hope this isn't too bad, I wrote it all in one go. I have been writing a personal project, but I doubt I've improved that much in the last couple months. Thank you if you read this! I hope to have more to post soon!

Reader is gender neutral!

WC: 1533

Italics represents Saiki speaking telepatically!

Saiki with a S/O who cups his cheeks and tells him they love him for the first time.

—————————————————–

Your week had been anything but easy. Balancing a school and social life wasn’t supposed to be easy, sure, but this was getting ridiculous. It seemed every assignment was due at some point this past week and every class had some sort of test or exam. On top of everything, your friend group decided it was the perfect time to meet up to study nearly every single day. It was completely and entirely exhausting. You hardly got a free moment to yourself.

To make matters worse, you hadn’t seen Kusuo the entire time. He was part of your friend group, yeah, but by some miracle, he managed to dodge every study session. It was almost like he had superpowers. On most weeks like this, Kusuo was the only thing that could get you through it, being around him was oddly healing - even if he’s a jerk about it sometimes, you miss him dearly. He had some sort of ability to keep you calm and content, just being around him was enough to relieve some of the day's stress. Kusuo was there for you no matter what, whether he was willing to admit that or not. You knew it to be true and he knows you know. That’s enough.

You could feel him rolling his eyes if you were to tell him anything you just thought, that is. That never stopped you, though, you needed to make sure he knows you care for him. No, care is not a strong enough word. You’re sure you love him, there’s no doubt in your mind. How can you go about telling him? He of all people definitely deserves to know he’s loved.

Plotting how you’d tell Kusuo that you love him turned out to be a fantastic stress reliever. Laughing all you want about the cheesy, made-up scenarios you come up with did wonders to calm you down. Anything from a mock proposal on the beach, to screaming it off a cliff. Most of them weren’t realistic, nor to either of your tastes. But they were fun, and that’s all that mattered. You finally decided on telling him the one way you knew he’d like best. Sweets. Content with your idea, you prepared for bed. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

You woke bright and early. So early, in fact, that the sun had hardly even began to rise. There was work to be done. Quietly, you made your way down to the kitchen, careful enough not to wake anyone up. You decided on a quick and easy breakfast, you could never go wrong with toast. While the bread was toasting, you got out cupcake trays and your cake recipe, reading it over and gathering any ingredients you need. You left any ingredients that needed to be refrigerated in the fridge but prepared measuring cups and bowls for them. Anything that didn’t need to be kept cold was put into the appropriate bowl - wet or dry. As you were measuring out the last of your dry ingredients, you heard a faint pop from the toaster and decided it was time to take a break and eat. Your toast was surprisingly good, probably because you felt you worked for it.

Now was for the easier parts, combining the rest of your recipe and then pouring it into the cupcake trays. You went about your day, waiting for them to finish baking and then cool down. Once they were cool, it was around lunchtime. The perfect time to finish them up with icing. Carefully, you took your time to write out “I love u Kusuo!” Putting each character on its own cupcake - unfortunately having to shorten the “you” so that it would fit on the 12 of them. To add a final touch, you added a couple small heart candies onto some of them. They looked great and you were proud of your work.

As soon as the cupcakes were packaged up and ready to go, you headed immediately out the door. Kusuo didn’t usually like when you showed up suddenly or unannounced, but you carried treats and an important message this time. You were sure he wouldn’t mind too much.

The walk to his house was uneventful as always. You were lucky enough not to run into anyone you knew on the way there. You didn’t want to have to explain yourself and a small part of you expected that running into somebody would only strike disaster - similar to the past week. There was a small skip in your step on the way there, happy to finally see Kusuo after that long, painful week. You didn’t let any of your nerves get to you. Kusuo would take your message well. He had to.

Or, that’s what you were telling yourself as you nervously stood at his doorway. Ringing his doorbell had never been so frightening. You braved it, though, and your finger found its way up to his doorbell. The muffled ring could be heard even from the outside and approaching footsteps that sounded awfully familiar came shortly after.

When the door opened you were greeted with the face you craved to see all week. He looked as unbothered as ever, but the second he stepped aside and his arm gestured to let you in you knew he was happy to see you. With a smile on your face, you went to step inside and-

Apparently, your awful week had yet to cease. Right as you walked in the door, towards Kusuo, your foot caught the bottom of the doorframe. You tripped on it, the box of cupcakes falling along with you. "Oh!” It came out choked and as if you hadn’t meant to say it at all, “No!”

You quickly peeked inside of the box. The icing writing you had worked so hard on was smudged, no longer legible. They were still edible, but the message had been erased. Kusuo was staring down at the cupcakes, an almost puzzled expression on his face. He kept the same expression as his eyes met yours.

“Sorry,” you apologized quickly, “they were for you, I didn’t mean to- to make a mess of them.”

Kusuo only nodded, but it was enough to tell you there was no problem and you hadn’t even needed to apologize. He wasn’t mad.

“Listen, Kusuo I,” you cut yourself off, now that the cupcakes weren’t an option how did you want to tell him?

“Screw it.” You muttered under your breath as you stood up from the ground, dusting yourself off. Now back on your feet, you quickly reached up, placing both your hands on Kusuo’s cheeks. Your thumbs found their way right on his cheekbones, running softly along them. The rest of your fingers could reach to his hair and you had to resist completely tangling them in it. His expression was entirely neutral once more, at the very least he wasn’t offended by your actions.

“I really love you, Kusuo.”

He smiled. He actually smiled. It was genuine, it was beautiful, everything you could’ve asked for and more. His hands were in your cheeks too at this point and he had an uncharacteristically intense look in his eyes.

“I really love you, too.”

Such a simple statement and yet you could feel your cheeks burning up from it. Even worse, his hands were on his face so he could feel it too. He was so close, still smiling at you. You’d never imagined his face was capable of making such a dopey, lovesick smile and yet here he is. And then he hugged you. Tight. He’d never held you like that before, it was so loving and warm. It hardly lasted a couple seconds, so short that you were almost sure you imagined it. As soon as you registered it, it was over, and Kusuo’s normal, unbothered expression remained on his face.

“We shouldn’t let your hard work go to waste, should we? Want to come enjoy these with me?” Kusuo moved down to pick up the box, staring down at them in admiration even if they were a mess by now. You didn’t bother to reply to him, still slightly in shock. You chose to simply follow after him into the other room as he placed the box on a table. Kusuo wasted no time in grabbing one of the cupcakes, his signature sweets-eating-face taking over as soon as he took a bite. It was endearing, to say the least. As if he sensed your hesitation, he nudged the box towards you, encouraging you to take one as well. Despite their state, they still tasted amazing, all your hard work really paid off.

The rest of the day was spent comfortably. You refused to leave Kusuo’s side after everything that happened. You took to ranting about your week and how much you missed him while sat comfortably next to him, right where you wanted to be. Maybe the past week was worth it. You finally got to tell Kusuo you love him and got plenty of time together to make up for it. It had been bad, but like all the times before, Kusuo had a way of making you feel better.

[theepisceswriter]

CRYING OVER SPILLED MILK  — TOJI FUSHIGURO *insert cute edited picture of Toji here that I don’t have*

Synopsis: After a long stressful day of work, you come home to a bratty Toji just begging to get punished by you. 

A/N: To the bestie that sent me that request for more of Sub!Toji with a sugar momma, you really messed up because I don’t think I’ve gotten to work on a request faster than yours and I’m positive this isn’t the end of this saga.  also shoutout to @killerbananas​ for helping me with the title ! 

TW: Whew..... first off not proofread so probably a bunch of typos, glimpses of that sugar mommy lifestyle, sub!Toji, Dom!Reader, Fem!reader, light bondage, overstimulation, teasing, mommy kink, use of ‘sweet baby boy’ as a nickname, a whole lot of mature things, but I think those are the main warnings, 18 plus, MINORS DNI or I’ll eat your ankles like corn on the cob

WC: 3.7k, told you I got carried away !

“Toji!” 

Your quavering voice echoed through the white marbling interior of the home as soon as you made your way through the door, shoulders and head rolling to get every nook and cranny out your neck that sitting at a desk from hours on end caused. You weren’t expecting to stay behind for as long as you did today, the decision of overtime being a unanimous vote between your boss and last minute cancelling coworker, so you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to. No matter how much you craved the tight embrace and warm fanning of breath between the valley of your breast accompanied with a headful of raven spikes that peaked out in wild directions from your younger companion. 

Your home lacked the disarray of toys on the floor, the constant faint melodies of Cocomelon ringing through hallways, or the sickly sweet smell that often wavered through the air whenever kids frequented an area. Not to mention the lack of jewelry on the fourth finger of your left hand not signifying that you were single, but a silent way of letting those around you know that whatever situation you had at home wasn’t stable enough for a ring. Most women around your age were married to the successful men they worked alongside expecting their 2nd child despite the fact that their 1st born can barely talk, but you were different. 

You had Toji to come home to and that was good enough for now. 

The sound of your call out to him fell on deaf ears. Maybe the exhaustion was too heavy in your voice making your tone quieter than usual or else he would’ve been on you the moment you walked through the front door; eager to take your purse and keys away from you like the true gentleman he was underneath, but with an ulterior motive just like any man just so he could get you to the bedroom and please you quicker at his pace.

“My sweet boy,” You called out in an exclaimed voice you knew would have him perking up and at your attention even if he was in a completely different room with his headphones turned up to the max, just the soundwaves from the nickname alone conditioning him to be at your beck and call whenever you wanted him too. And just like how you had predicted the soft pattering of feet slowly came into your sound range and it wasn’t long until he was a couple feet away from you leaned against the walkway connecting the corridor to the front door, a scowl on his scarred lips and eyes narrowed with an expression that you couldn’t quite read because of the tufts of black hair that fell over the front of his face.

You stood there for a moment expecting him to take away the contents of your hands like he normally did, but the lack of movement and verbalization from him left you stuck yourself with confusion. 

“Anyways,” you attempted to move on as you made your way to the common area with all of your belongings to put them up yourself, “Today was the most exhausting day I’ve had in a long time. None of my favorite coworkers were there, so I was stuck with a group of stuck up assholes who thought anything that wasn’t work related was unprofessional to talk about. And then I got stuck with the rest of somebody else’s shift because they hate me; that has to be the only explanation, right?” 

A word vomit escaped your lips the moment they opened. The freedom of finally being able to talk about your terrible experience lifting half of the weight off of your shoulders and the other half disintegrating once you got your daily reassurance from Toji, but all you got were scoffs and mumbles of whatevers that had your hands going to your hips in a chastising position like that of a mother. 

“Do you have something to say?”

“Like you’d even have time to stand there and listen to it, anyway, y/n.” He scoffs with the roll of his eyes, arms crossing over his chest and eyes finally meeting yours when he adjusts himself off the frame of the cut off to seemingly walk away.

 At least that was the plan until your fingers held the fabric of his signature black t-shirt between ligaments and bone, halting him in his tracks completely. Two silent strides from your heels being off of your feet granting you the element of surprise with this move.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Moving from the back of his neck your fingers travel to grasp his shoulders and use the momentum of your arm swinging to turn him around to face you with ease, the words that leave your lips a mix of a purr and growl. 

The stiffening of his already hard muscles underneath your touch is an indicator that he knew what was going to come from his little attitude fit and from the soft blush that grazed his features, it’s as if he were expecting it; provoking this reaction out of you on purpose. Needy for your attention to the point where he’d upset you even further on a day you came home with an already sour mood. 

What a slut, you thought in the confinements of your head. 

“I’ve had the most frustrating and exhausting days at work today, the job that I work so I can spoil you like I do, and this is how you’re going to treat me? Instead of letting me take out all my anger on your cock like we’d both like?”

Suddenly your hand is dropping down to the obvious bulge that’s poking through the light grey fabric of his sweats. A sharp inhale sounding from his nose as you gently fondle the erection with your free hand. Watching the hairs on his neck stand each time you graze over the soft sack of his balls before moving back up to his shaft just to tease him like you weren’t already groping him through his pants. 

Even then that’s enough to stimulate the feelings of want for you that had been in the back of his mind all day long and it’s not long before he’s bucking up into your hand the closer he gets to his orgasm. 

“How cute.” You coo out as you take note of the deepened blush that has taken place over his features along with his slightly parted lips and slight tilt back of his head. And just when the bucking up of his hips became rough and sloppy you removed your hand as quick as possible with a teasing smile on your lips at the frustrated groan that left his lips.

“Bad boys don’t deserve orgasms, only sweet boys do.” You taunt, taking a hold of his hand and leading him to the bedroom. 

A silence falls over the burly man and he melts right back into the submissive you have him trained as. Obeying every single one of your orders once you get in the bedroom until he’s splayed out on the bed in a starfish position with his bare erect and yearning cock pressed up against his toned stomach with precum oozing from the swollen red tip and the soft glimmer of a silver cockring at the base of his cock.

“Mommy…” He finally speaks up in a desperate whisper for the first time today, your body slowly being disregarded of clothes finally bringing him to his begging point before you’re even touching him again. The weight of his actions finally weighs heavy in his mind when he sees you practically prancing towards the bed with a rugged bundle of light pink rope in your hand. 

The kind that always made him feel so pretty when it matched the lingerie he put on for you now being used against him as a tool in his punishment. 

“I’m sorry, mommy. I was just too needy for you earlier and was upset when you didn’t come home at the time you usually do.” His apologies fall on deaf ears just as your calling out to him had done earlier. Your face not even reacting to his words or looking in his direction when you move to each corner of the bed to restrain his wrists to the edge of the metal railing bed. Only looking down to chastise him with a quick ‘tsk!’ of your tongue when his mouth attempted to latch on to your nipples as you reached over to secure his wrists.

“I didn’t make you act like that earlier, you did this to yourself. Mommy wanted to come home and please both her and her sweet baby boy. But now look at you,” Your hand roughly comes down to forcefully take his jaw into your hand and force him to look up at you with eyes filled with regret, “All tied up ready to be used by me.”

It’s then that your hand travels down his stomach to place a gentle tap on the swollen tip of his cock. Going as far to even trail your finger around it eliciting groans from the pit of his stomach knowing you were going to pull away as soon as he got close to that sweet release again. Quiet gasps being the only thing that left his lips, the squirming of his hips underneath you a silent way of showing how much he wanted you. 

“You look so pretty all tied up for me like this, baby.” Each word that left your lips sent a wave of pleasure straight to his dick and you could see the way it twitched from the corner of your eye as you moved your focus down to his chest deciding he wasn’t worthy of the kiss you were going to give to him. With pinched fingers your hands moved to the cherry red bud that was his nipple. Fondling the oversensitive bud on his plump chest warranting his whole torso to rumble with the pained groans of pleasure that escaped from him.

“Please,” A voice that you wouldn’t expect to come from someone his size, similar to that of a begging child’s, sounded from him with ease when you were the one delivering the pleasure, “Please give me more.” 

A smirk made its way on your lips before you leaned down to capture the bud between your plush lips. Your tongue encircling the sensitive flesh to soothe the pain your pinching must’ve caused him. Only pulling away with a trail of spit following as you moved on to give the next nipple the same treatment. And if it weren’t for the tight cockring at the base of his balls, something as simple as this would’ve had him coming undone without you even having to touch his cock. But instead he was forced to deal with the painful ache of his erect straining against the cold metal.

Two quick swift movements and your mouth was pulling away from his chest against his wishes, whimpers leaving his lips, but quickly being shushed once he realized you were positioning yourself right over his cock. 

“I still haven’t gotten my stress relief for the day,” Grabbing on to his thick shaft you lined up his swollen tip with your entrance, teasingly dragging it along your wet slit up to your clit before you were stuffing it inside of you without warning, choked moans leaving the both of you from the long awaited pleasure. 

“So fucking big you can barely fit inside of me.” But still you lowered your hips down on him until you were at his hilt. Taking a moment to adjust to his girth and size before your hips swirled at an achingly slow pace in a sloppy figure 8 motion. The feeling of your clit rubbing up against his hardened lower abdomen making you damn near see stars.

“Y-You feel so good around me, mommy. So fucking good.” Greed got the best of the needy sub, his hips attempting to buck up into you to change the slow pace you had set, but that just prompted you to stop the movement of your hips altogether. Stopping to look down at his flustered face and pressing your hands down on his to limit his mobility. 

“What a needy slut my sweet baby boy is,” You sucked in through teeth when he delivered a quick snap of his hips up into you. Your nails dragged along his chest hard enough to leave pink markings on it, but not rough enough to make him bleed. “If you weren’t such a brat earlier then maybe I would’ve been letting you fuck me right now as we speak,” your hips resumed their former pace and pattern of movement, “But you’re not.” You taunted him in a teasing voice, watching as his face scrunched up in both pain from the limitations his cockring put on him, but also pleasure as you indulged him in the warmth of your cunt wrapped around his length.

“Please...I’m sorry...please just let me cum.” Toji basically cries out, whining like a poor dog. 

“Not until I do.” You grab his chin forcing him to look up at you and reaching down with your free hand to grope at his plump chest. They fill your hand up in all the right ways like they were made for you to toy and mess with. “Not just once, but twice. And then maybe if I’m feeling nice I’ll be nice enough to let you cum too.” 

And so it goes on like that for at least an hour, your slick pussy gripping around him and creaming so many times around him to the point where a thick ring of cum had formed at the base of his cock because of you. Your clit was swollen from the stimulation his skin gave you and almost matched the color of his darkening cock with each passing minute, the only difference being that you constantly got your relief. 

Tears pooled at the edge of his eyes, glossy each time he looked up at you and silently pleading like a dog begging for food. His wrists were sore and raw from yanking against the pretty pink rope this whole session. It’s felt like forever for him, not only having to endure this session, but waiting and longing for you all day long. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please, please, please, mommy. I’m begging you! Please let me cum mommy, make me feel good too please.” His voice is barely audible and sounds more like a croak than smooth pronunciation. Already considering to finally give him that sweet release since you’ve had your release already, it was his soft desperate sniffle that brought you completely to your conclusion of freeing him.

“Mommy is going to take care of her sweet baby boy now.” 

Reaching over you grabbed the ube from your bedside drawer that you always kept for situations as such and poured a fair amount on the shaft of Toji’s cock. Using the cooling sensation of the lube to take away some of his swollenness and ease him from the restraints of the cockring. 

“The rope.” He brought to your attention before he took his sigh of relief, watching with widened and eager eyes as you reached over to undo the intricate knots on his wrists. Soothing the raw area with your thumb and kisses before you allowed them to drop to his side, that sigh of relief finally sounding from his lips.

He wasted no time in relishing on the fact that he wasn’t tied up and begging anymore or even paused to wipe away the flushed tears from his cheeks, but immediately wrapped his broad arm around your torso and flipped the two of you over so you were now the one below him as he towered over you.

He almost didn’t know what to do with this freedom after not having it all day long and it took a moment for him to decide, but the first thing he did was drop his face between your breasts, groping and motorboating them like a mad man. You threaded your fingers into his dark raven spikes as his mouth found your nipple and began to gently suckle on the sweet skin.

“So good.” He let out in a satisfied hum that vibrated against your nipples and sent a shiver up your spine.

“You do that so well, such a good boy for me when you’re not being a brat.” You backhandedly  praise through soft gasps underneath your breath. 

 Dark eyes looking up at you through lashes, pupils blown wide from pleasure, and your praise making his cock leak with precum at the tip. Your grip in his hair tightened as you pulled him closer against your body,  the arch of your body into him giving him perfect access to slip in between your folds with ease from the wetness that had accumulated between your thighs from multiple orgasms already. 

“Your pussy feels so warm and tight around me.” He pulls away from your lipples with a loud pop and grunt like this wasn’t his fourth time of the day feeling the confines of your velvet walls. The only difference being that it was at his pace for once and not the painstakingly slow one you had been teasing him with all day long, able to pound into like he had been dreaming about all day long. The bed swaying back and forth and squeaking with each powerful thrust of his hips into you.

“Look at you, rutting up against me like a bitch in heat. So desperate and needy for me to the point where you’re crying,” A soft hand comes up to wipe away at the tears that continue to come down his face despite the release he’s getting in this moment. The taunting tone of your voice only encourages him to move faster, but he’s so backed up that all it takes is a couple of rough thrusts before warm strings of cum are shooting up inside of you. The embarrassment from cumming so fast only warranting more tears to stream down his puffy face.

“Couldn’t hold out, huh? Don’t tell me my sweet baby boy has turned into a one pump chump on me.” Your taunting has yet to stop, but from the way his cock twitches with each degradation that leaves your lips you’re not going to stop anytime soon. 

“You just feel so good. Especially after not being able to cum in you all day long.” He defends himself, pulling out of you with a still swollen cock. 

“How pathetic of you to have such an amazing cock that you can’t use right.” Your hand makes an impact with his already pink right cheek on his face, not harsh enough to hurt him but harsh enough to leave a pink imprint the shape of your hand there. Toji is only able to look down from embarrassment, face secretly growing more flustered as your humiliating words and actions continue. 

You shift to sit up and push down on his chest so he’s now laying back, his still erect cock leveled out with your face now. Twitching in your direction from excitement still nowhere near satisfied yet. 

“F-Fuck.” He breathed out verbally when your hand gripped the base of his cock, already driving him crazy and you hadn’t even given him your mouth yet. You couldn’t help but hold a cocky expression as you leaned down to circle the tip of his cock with your tongue before taking as much of him as you could fit into your mouth, enclosing your throat around him while you stroked the remainder of him with your hand. 

Suckling softly around the salty skin like he had done your nipples earlier, you looked up at him through dark lashes and the sight was godly; muscles constricting with each moan that rumbled his chest, a thin sheet of sweat making his skin glisten in the dim lighting of the room, tears coating the chubs of his cheeks,  and his eyes closed shut with his scarred lip tight between his sharp teeth. Not to mention the soft bucks of his hips up into your mouth forcing you to choke as he forced more of his cock down his throat until you had gentle tears falling from your eyes as well. 

“So so good, mommy. You’re so good at sucking my cock, no one else does it better than you do.” The breathlessness of his voice lets you know that he’s already near the edge of his orgasm, the muscles of his stomach flexing every time you hollow out your cheeks and flick your tongue against his tip already tasting the salt of his cum. 

Hazy eyes opened to peer down at you in all of your glory with his cock down your throat, one hand coming down to knead at your breasts as you worked your magic between his legs so good to the point where you had his toes curling and gripping at the silk white sheets of the bed.

“I’m going to-” The dark haired man wasn’t even able to get the rest of his sentence out before a string of ‘Mommy’s was leaving his pink lips as his stomach contracted until he was shooting a big load of backed up orgasms down your throat to the point where some of the white fluid was spilling from the sides of your mouth messily. But you didn’t stop at his orgasm, you kept going until every last drop of his cum had gone down your throat and you were positive he had come down from his orgasm.

It took his hand removing you from his cock forcefully for you to finally stop and even then it wasn’t a full force grab, his hand barely able to move due to his mind still being heavily clouded with pleasure. An override of senses crashing his system to the point where he was sure he would’ve gone into subspace if he hadn’t got you to stop sucking his cock.

“Are you okay?” You cooed out softly as you brought him into your arms so his head was resting against the soft plushness of your bests, gently stroking his hair and wiping away tears while he came down from that mind blowing orgasm. 

“Mhm.” Was the only thing he managed to get out before smuggling his face against your chest completely. The two of you too tired to get up and take a shower.

“Let’s just stay like this for a while.” He let out in a soft breath. 

[heliads]

The College Experience

Based on this request: “Tony decides to send Wanda to college to help her with an education. While there she meets the (f) reader, the lead singer of a rock band that performs in underground clubs. Reader brings Wanda to all her shows and Wanda introduces her gf to the Avengers.”

masterlist

Wanda folds her arms across her chest. The air seems to hum with a strange tension, taut as a spun wire. If you look closely, you’d swear that her eyes seem to glow with an almost unnatural scarlet tinge. Then again, not much about Wanda Maximoff is natural. Not anymore. Despite all of this, however, the man in front of her does not look intimidated. Not in the slightest.

Wanda opens her mouth to speak at last, words as crisp and calculating as always. If her Sokovian accent rounds off her letters a little more than usual, well, it can only add to the overall sense of severity that loops around every one of her words. “So, you feel bad about my parents and brother and city dying because of your bombs, so you’re sending me off to college as a way to feel better about it?”

Tony Stark winces, spreading his hands wide as if he’s nothing more than a well-meaning parent. “Well, when you put it that way it sounds somewhat terrible, but I promise it’ll be better than that. Think of it this way: I’m working to further your education.” Wanda frowns. “I’m already being taught as an Avenger.” Tony, PhD student at heart, groans at this. “That’s not what I mean. Yeah, Nat’s teaching you how to kill somebody, but you can learn more than that.”

Natasha, across the room, shrugs. “I don’t know. I thought that was pretty important.” Tony wheels around, pointing a finger at her that’s somewhat lackluster in its irritation. “Hey, you’re supposed to be helping me here. Defend college to our little witch.” Natasha grins, utterly shameless as always. “College is good because you can stop being lectured by Tony.”

Tony shoots Natasha a bothered look, but ultimately relents, turning back to face Wanda once more. “Not exactly what I was going for, but it does the job. College will be great. You can pick out any one, don’t worry about the tuition costs.” He must still see indecision warring in Wanda’s face, because his tone softens and he takes a hesitant step forward. “Look, I know it’s hard to think about moving on after everything, but I promise that this is going to be good. A chance to be normal after all you’ve been through? It feels better than you’d think.”

Wanda sighs. “I don’t know that normal really appeals to any of us.” It’s a nothing answer, she knows that. They all know that, all of the Avengers clustered in this room to convince her to stop moping around the tower and go be a normal young woman. The chance of a normal life calls to every single one of the Avengers. The only problem is that none of them will ever be able to get it, or feel so choked over regret that they wouldn’t ever let themselves enjoy it. Wanda has an opportunity that many of her friends would lay down their lives for, and she’s arguing over it.

Natasha, always able to read a mood faster than the blink of an eye, slips down from her perch on top of a counter and walks over to Wanda. She nods once in understanding. “I know you don’t want to go, but trust me, it’ll be fine. I’d rather have you relax and go finish your education then spend every minute here torn up over what has happened in the past.” Wanda is unsurprised by the fact that Natasha can get to the root of the problem so readily, but tries one last attempt at arguing anyway. “What if something bad happens and you need me to fight?”

Natasha grins. “Then we’ll call you. Pick a school, Maximoff. College waits for us all.” Despite her best attempts at avoiding it, Wanda still finds herself standing on the doorway of her new dorm room later that month. In a final attempt to stick it to Tony for trying to interfere too much in her life, Wanda’s managed to choose one of the smallest schools known to man, a college that barely exists on the radar at all. Tony may shake his head, saying something about how she could’ve gone to Harvard or Princeton, but the fact remains that this school is perfect. It’s in the middle of nowhere, and the students usually end up living and dying within the same small college town. Nobody would recognize her at all, which is exactly what Wanda wants- a chance to be a regular college student, just like Tony and Natasha said.

Wanda turns her head slightly as a woman walks up next to her. Despite the way that Natasha has always been able to sneak up on people due to her spy reflexes or something, she’s never once gotten the jump on Wanda. Wanda can’t explain it herself, she just knows that there’s somebody there before they show up, like she can sense their limbs and minds just waiting to be pulled in one direction or another. She shakes her head, ridding herself of the thought, then turns back to Natasha with a smile.

“Well, I’ll see you over break.” Natasha nods. “You’ll have a good time if you let yourself. I know we sent you in late in the month, so you have the whole new student thing going for you, but I think you’ll enjoy it. See you later, little witch.” Wanda smothers a grin. “See you, Nat.” She watches as the car drives off, the last few Avengers crammed into a car. Tony had mourned the loss of a helicopter ride or private plane, but Wanda had sworn up and down that she’d wanted to arrive normally so he’d relented. Besides, watching him, Steve, Nat, and the others argue over everything from the A.C. to the music to who would ride shotgun was fairly hilarious.

Wanda has a roommate waiting for her inside. Jenna Beck, freshman just like Wanda, has a beaming smile that could light up the sun. She promises to show Wanda the best places for food, the fastest ways to class, the most exciting people, everything a college of barely a couple thousand students can call hot news. Unable to stop herself, Wanda briefly checks the girl’s head to see if she’s putting up a front, but no- she’s truly that excited over the smallest of happenings. Fascinating.

Jenna, as it turns out, does have a secret side after all. It’s not much, certainly compared to Wanda’s secret that she’s secretly an inhuman who was once working with a murderous cyborg willing to destroy the entire earth, but it’s intriguing nonetheless. About a week or two into Wanda’s stay at university, Jenna announces that they’re both taking a trip to a club a few streets down. Wanda had looked up from her books, interested. Something about Jenna Beck didn’t exactly scream underground club shows, so whatever was there must be good.

Jenna, for her credit, could keep a secret. She didn’t tell Wanda a word, not until they were hurrying across painted asphalt and disappearing into a dark club door. There was smoke in the air, neon lights, the typical stench of alcohol on far too many tongues. It was a hectic maze, and it caused a genuine laugh to erupt in Wanda’s throat for the first time in a while. Jenna pointed through the throngs of people towards a stage set up at the back. “A band’s going to come play tonight. I know the lead singer, they’re all really good.”

Wanda nodded, watching as a group of five or so people arrived on the stage a couple minutes later. They all appear to be in college as well, if not a year or so older. The lead singer takes a place at the front, grabbing a guitar from the rack. She tosses a smirk to the audience like it’s a gift, free of charge. They all beam back up at her. It’s hard to resist such a grin as hers. She adjusts her microphone for a second, laughing at a joke one of her bandmates whispered in her ear. “How are we tonight?” The crowd roars its approval. “Perfect.”

The drummer starts up a beat, and seconds later they’re playing their first song. Wanda can’t help but watch the way the lead singer performs, as if she’s completely forgotten about the audience and she’s only singing for her own amusement. Her voice floats on the air like she’s magic herself. By the second song, Wanda decides that she might be completely lost on this girl. She nudges Jenna beside her, somehow irritated that her friend is looking at the lead singer with the same infatuation that Wanda no doubt wears. “You said you knew the lead singer, right? What’s her name?”

Jenna shouts to be heard over the crowds and music. “Y/N. Y/N L/N. If you want, I can take you to meet her after the show.” Wanda’s heart leaps. “Really?” Jenna grins. “Absolutely.” Suddenly, Wanda’s entire stay at the university seems very, very acceptable. She can’t help but send out a silent thank-you to Tony for forcing her to go.

The show ends about an hour or so after that, although Wanda can’t help but wish it would last longer. Then Jenna’s pulling at her arm, dragging her through the crowds to the backstage rooms. She knows twice at one of the doors, and seconds later, a girl appears, grinning like a lioness. It’s the same singer from before- Y/N. How is she even more captivating up close? Y/N says her hellos to Jenna before looking over at Wanda. “Who’s this?” Jenna loops an arm around Wanda’s shoulders. “This is Wanda, my roommate. I forced her to come.”

Y/N laughs, the sound somehow just as pretty as her songs. “Well, I’m glad you did.” Wanda manages to find her voice. “So am I. You guys were great out there.” Y/N’s smile brightens, if that were possible at all. “See, now I like you a lot. Come on, let’s head inside.” Y/N reaches forward, taking Wanda’s hand by the wrist and guiding her through the twisting maze of the backstage area. If Wanda figures out where she’s going and doesn’t really need to stay so close to Y/N, well, she keeps that to herself.

Wanda ends up coming to the next show, and the next, and the next. She can’t help it- something about seeing Y/N up there, illuminated by the bright lights and singing until Wanda swears she’ll lose her voice, is almost spellbinding. She doesn’t think she could leave if she tried. Besides, Y/N wants to see her too. The first time Wanda tried to pay for a ticket, the bouncer at the front had just shaken his head. “Y/N specified, you’re a friend. You can see the show free of charge.”

Wanda had confronted Y/N about that afterwards. Thanks to Tony, she’s got enough money to see as many shows as she wants, although she’d never admit that aloud. However, Y/N hadn’t even given her the chance to think of an excuse. She’d just laughed, and it had taken everything in Wanda to not get lost in that sound alone, especially when she’d intertwined her arm with Wanda’s as they walked. “Absolutely not. I want you here, and I think we can handle one less ticket being sold.” Wanda had protested. “That’s a terrible business model. I can pay the ticket, honestly.” 

Then Y/N had spun around, and suddenly they were only inches apart. “And, honestly, we can handle it. Promise.” All of Wanda’s arguments had suddenly evaporated out of her head, and it had taken everything in her to find the mental strength to nod and give up the topic. Y/N had smiled at her again, and she’d been stumbling blind after her.

It doesn’t take long for Wanda to realize that she’s absolutely hopeless over the girl. She can’t stop herself from finding her, from looking to Y/N like she’s some kind of miracle worker. And it’s not just Wanda, too- she could swear that Y/N looks to her first after every show, and friends don’t find excuses to hold each other’s hands that often, right? Regardless, when Wanda’s walking home with Y/N late one night and Y/N says that she loves her, she’s still taken by surprise.

Wanda stares. “You what?” Y/N grins, although there’s something almost like doubt in the girl’s face. It’s something that Wanda has never seen there before, and she’s instantly filled with the rush to clear it from her, to put back that confident smile that had always been hers. “I love you, Wanda. Honestly. I can’t stop thinking about you. You like me too, right? Or am I misreading all of this?” Wanda had shaken her head hastily. “No, I do. Really, I do. It’s just-”

How do you tell a girl that you’re dangerous, far more dangerous than they’d expect? How do you tell a singer in an underground band that you have the power to rip apart the entire world, that by being with you they’ll never be safe once in their lives? It turns Wanda’s stomach to think of Y/N, held hostage for something Wanda did. What if Wanda got Y/N killed? It would kill her too, in a way. But she can’t say this, not yet. So, she settles for another excuse. “I have a, uh, strict family. I don’t know how well they’d take it.”

Y/N nods. “That makes sense. But they can’t see us here, right?” Wanda sighed. “Yes, but-” All of a sudden, Y/N’s eyes clear. Another smile appears on her face, this time not cocky or hesitant but quiet, understanding. “I don’t mind that you have powers. I don’t mind that you’re an Avenger.” Wanda stares at her. “How long have you known?” The words are in a whisper, barely there at all. Y/N laughs quietly. “Since I met you. I read the news. Might not seem like the type, but I recognized you at the first show.”

Wanda feels like the ground has been pulled away under her feet. “And you weren’t scared? You knew what I could do, what that might mean.” Y/N nods. “Yeah, but I know you. The real you, and I knew you would never hurt me. Not like that.” She stops walking now, placing a hand gently on Wanda’s cheek. She feels like a butterfly pinned against a board, too frightened to move lest the entire moment crumble away into ash. “I’m not afraid of you, Wanda. Maybe I should be, but I’m not. I don’t want to let you go for this.”

Wanda manages a smile. “Then don’t.” She reaches out, places her hand over Y/N’s. “I’ll have you if you have me.” Y/N grins again, heady and bright. “I like the sound of that.” So does Wanda. Later, when they’re kissing after shows and in the rain and trading jackets, Wanda thinks of all her doubts and almost wants to laugh. What she has with Y/N is good, better even than good. Great, perfect. All of that.

She ends up bringing Y/N back over winter break, so there would be no more secrets in between them. Y/N had been hesitant at first, afraid of what the other Avengers would think, but she got on well with them immediately. She and Natasha had an almost frightening friendship, and Wanda is only a little afraid that her girlfriend is going to go back to college with significantly more knives than she had at first. Tony, too, likes Y/N, although he makes sure to talk to Wanda for a little longer than necessary about how it’s important to not only look for the best in everyone and the dangers of dating as an Avenger. He may be trying a little too hard to be a father figure, but Wanda’s not sure that she minds.

Besides, her life is pretty good right now. She and Y/N make the drive back to school after winter break ends. It’s just the two of them and the road stretching ahead, clouds and blue skies as long as the eye can see. Wanda may be able to read minds, but she can’t see the future. Regardless, she can tell one thing for sure: it’s good, all of it. There’s not a thing she would change.

wanda maximoff tag list: @mionemymind​, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​, @mycosmicparadise​

[cunningambitousdetermined]

The Plan (Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader)

title: the plan

pairing: natasha romanoff x f!reader

warnings: mild swearing, mentions of homophobia, FLUFF with a dash of angst

summary: Y/N has been in love with Natasha Romanoff for a VERY long time and honestly, Tony is getting sick of watching it. Natasha has been in love with Y/N since the very first day and Steve can’t take the assassins obliviousness anymore. Steve and Tony, reluctantly of course, team up to make the pair notice how perfect they are for each other. (OH SHOOT IM SORRY I SUCK AT SUMMARIES WOW)

requested by @iamninaanna: 

Hey Sunshine, I love your writing, so I'm here to request something :) 

Can I please request a Natasha Romanoff × reader, where the Avengers are playing truth or dare, and somebody challenges Natasha to kiss the reader, or something like that, and then they confess their feelings to one another. I was having something in mind, I hope it's not to specific, that like Natasha rambles about the reader to Steve A LOT, and he's so sick of it, he has to do something about it, while it's the same situation with reader, just that she's talking to hers best friend, which can be any of the Avengers, you decide, and then Steve and the reader's best friend make a plan together, and well, you know the rest <3

Okay, that was a lot, but I'm really excited😊 Thank you if you write it!!

a/n (i think that's what i put when i’m responding, if i screwed it up please let me know, it would be much appreciated) :

hi taja! thank you so much, this is the first time someone has requested something and im really excited. but also terrified. more terrified. reader is a girl but if someone wants me to rewrite this as gender neutral, i can.  hope i do it justice and if your reading this, thank you for reading. if anyone has any feedback, it’s always welcome. okay here i go!!

the story: 

Y/N Y/L/N flopped backward on to Tony Stark’s bed, grabbed the nearest pillow and let out a angry scream into the unsuspecting piece of cloth and feathers. 

“Woah kid, what’d the pillow do to you?” Tony joked, his eyes still trained on whatever new gizmo he was working on, chuckling at his best friends antics.

“It’s fucking Natasha” Y/N mumbled quietly into the pillow, her voice muddled by the soft white sheets that she buried her head farther in. Tony was silent, the only sounds was the clinking of the Tony’s robots and tools working, so she assumed he hadn’t heard her. Not that she wanted him too anyway. 

Y/N was in love with Natasha Romanoff. Head over heels, fully in love with the assassin that she’d worked closely with for the past years. To describe how Y/N felt about Natasha in words would never to how she really felt in justice. Natasha was a tall glass of Coke: Orange Vanilla. Rare, unsuspectingly sweet, and utterly addicting. Her red hair, the black bodysuit, the way she fought, she could take down 10 men on her own, with her bare hands. She was sweet- always sharing her secret candy stashes with Y/N- smart -helping Y/N out when she was still taking classes. 

Sometimes Y/N really thought Natasha felt the same way, then she flirted with a guy here and hot girl there and the idea fled from her brain.  Y/N had never seen Natasha have an inclination toward women, she flirted with every living thing. Y/N liked to think it was a coping with feelings for someone and that's why she was so flirty but in reality, Y/N knew there was no way she felt near the same way. She was an extra to the Avengers. And besides, no one even knew she liked girls. 

“It’s what, darling?” Tony had moved and was now sitting in front of Y/N, spinning around in his chair like a little kid in their dad’s office.

Y/N wanted to tell him how in love she was with Natasha, she wanted to tell him all the little things she noticed, all the little things she loved. But she couldn’t. How would Tony take it? Tony might take it okay, but the team? Steve? Bucky? They were from the 40′s, women didn’t love other women openly back then, did they still think it was... unnatural? She didn’t think she could deal with being any more of an outcast. Did Natasha like girls? The thoughts were drowning her slowly, cutting off her air supply, the last bit of air building up into a scream that she would never let out. 

Tony coughed and Y/N realized she’d been silent for too long. “Tony....” she took a deep breath in, “I- uh-...,” Tony raised an eyebrow, waiting for to go on. Y/N coughed clearing nothing from her throat, elongating the silence before she just spit the words out like hot fire. “I’minlovewithNatashaandIdontknowwhattodo?” 

“You’re what?” Tony asked, having caught nothing of that sentence, something about Natasha but honestly he was still lost. 

Y/N felt a little better and slowed herself down. She trained her eyes on a seam in the comforter and whispered, “I’m in love with Natasha and I don’t know what to do”

There was a silence and Y/N could feel it smothering her, pulling her into the water, dunking her head under, she was drowning and, and and- Tony erupted in laughter. Y/N’s head shot up and she stared at him, color drained from her face. Tony rocked back and forth but when he came up again, he caught the absolute terror on her face and his smile dropped. 

“Y/N?” he asked softy, he stood up, plopping on the bed next to her, “Babe?” Tony tried to catch her eye, ducking his head but she turned away. He grabbed her chin in his large hands, “Babe, I wasn’t laughing at you. God, I’m such an idiot.” he blew out a harsh breath, “I was laughing because I already knew, not because you are in love with her.” Tony felt her face relax and he turned her chin to meet his eye. 

“You knew?” Y/N asked softly, tears still gathered in her eyes. Tony’s eyes softened as he saw the tears and he used the pads of his thumb to wipe them away. 

“I’m sorry Y/N. I don’t care if you like women. I’ve known you had some sort of feelings for Natasha for a while, you can see it when you look at her. I was just waiting for you to tell me.” Y/N laughed at this now and threw her arms around Tony, who wrapped her up in a hug. “Now, tell me more about Natasha and this ‘love’” he said, his voice muffled by her hair. 

~

“STEVEEEE” Natasha groans, letting down her normal assassins façade. 

“Mmm” Steve hummed in reply, motioning for her to come in to his room. She smiled and darted to the spinning chair in the corner, propping her feet up on the desk. It was silent for a little bit, the pair just enjoying each others company when Natasha spun her chair around and broke the silence. 

“Do you think Y/N likes women?” Steve already knew the Natasha liked women and he was totally cool with it. Nat has been surprised when he had been super supportive but was very grateful for all the love and reassurance he’d given her. 

“Nat,” Steve sighed dramatically, “She can’t NOT know your in love with her, unless she’s totally oblivious which she may be...” He turned to face her, jumping on his bed to be closer to her, “You should just tell her” 

“But...” Nat frowned, “what if she doesn’t like women? And I creep her out? And..” She stopped as she felt Steve lay a hand on her shoulder. 

“How could she not like you?” he questioned, “And trust me, it’s quite obvious how she feels.” 

“HOW SHE FEELS?!” Nat practically screamed, so unlike her that Steve leaned back. She cleared her throat, “Sorry- she feels...?” 

“She’s in love with you, obviously”

Nat grabbed a pillow from the bed and screamed into it, then looked at Steve, wary, “Really? Y/N with her...” Steve tuned out the rest of what Nat said, he’d heard it all before. Too many times. Nat sighed, in a happy way that Steve had never heard from her before, “Y/N...”

~

Steve knew that this had to end, Natasha and Y/N pretending they weren’t head over heels for each other. He’d heard enough of Nat’s wistful rants, it was so unlike her, it was starting to worry him. If he was correct in his guess, Tony was feeling the same way. So, despite Tony being, well, Tony, Steve sought him out to solve the mess. 

~

“Truth or dare, old man?” Clint smirked at Tony, all the avengers had settled for a night in and decided to play truth or dare. Y/N had rolled her eyes at this, they were too old for it, but settled in next to Tony anyway. 

“Dare, obviously” Tony rolled his eyes at Clint, eagerly awaiting his fate. 

“I dare you to stand on top of the tower and sing at least 30 seconds of ‘Rich Girl’ by Gwen Stefani and livestream it.” Tony laughed at this and stood up. 10 minutes and one livestream later, all of them were laughing harder then they had in a long time. 

“Okay, okay, my turn to ask,” Tony smiled, “Natasha, truth or dare?” Steve couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face, the plan was in motion. 

“Dare...” Natasha didn’t let her voice waver, her signature smirk on her face. 

“I dare you to kiss Y/N”

The whole room fell silent. Y/N’s face flamed and her eyes filled with tears. Was this a joke? Tony knew how she felt. How could he? The eyes in the room were on Nat and her but she ignored them as she got up and ran out of the room. Tony’s eyes widened as Y/N darted through the door. 

“Nice going, Tony. You upset her.” Natasha’s glared at Tony, angry. But inside she couldn’t help but wonder if she ran because she didn’t want to kiss her. Maybe she hated the idea. Maybe she didn’t like women after all. Nat got up, she had to face this. “I’ll go get her” She dragged her hand over her face and got up. Tony and Steve exchanged a glance as she left, hopefully this wouldn’t blow up in their faces

~

“Y/N!” Nat yelled down the hall, “It’s me, I’m sorry Tony was a jerk. Can we talk?”

Y/N heard Natasha’s voice and faltered, she had to face this at some point. She took a deep breath, letting the cool confidence she had on missions fill her. 

“Yeah, I’m here Nat” She called back and within seconds Nat ran around the corner. Nat’s eyes softened as they looked into Y/N’s beautiful eyes, still just as mesmerizing, puffy and red. Nat took an unconscious step forward, her thumbs caressing the hidden tear streaks. Y/N’s breath caught, her heart flipping at Nat’s touch. Before she could think about it, Y/N leaned up and let her lips meet Nat’s. Nat responded immediately, pulling Y/N to her, wrapping her arms around her, teeth tugging at her bottom lip. Y/N groaned into the kiss, letting her fingers card through Nat’s hair. They pulled away after a minute, smiling like idiots. Y/N looked down slowly before glancing back up shyly at Nat. 

“Um... I really like you Nat” She whispered, with a smile

“I really like you too Y/N” Nat chuckled, pulling her in again for a sweet, soft kiss. It said everything they hadn’t said. All the nights of longing, the confusion and the love. 

Tony, Steve and the rest of the team watched from the security room, smiling and high fiving at the happy couple. 

AHHH I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!! feedback is always appreciated!!

tagging: @iamninaanna (to be tagged when i write something just drop me an ask)

[kotos-and-smiles]

The meaning of “I”

Chapter 104 spoliers!

Note 1. I’ll still be calling it “I” even though the translators are changing the way they translate it to be “peace,” because that’s what I’m used to calling it for now.

Note 2. Just a fair warning, this is a long post, but hopefully you enjoy!

Okay, I’ve been meaning to start this blog for months now but I’ve had no idea how to just start so here we are. I decided what better way to start off than talking about the newest chapter because there is oh so much to talk about in this one chapter alone. The first thing I really want to talk about from this chapter is the club’s song for nationals “I” or “Peace” as the translators have started calling it. Despite the fact the club has been working on “I” for a lot of chapters now, we still don’t know about the actual meanings and motifs that are in the song or what feelings they’re aiming to put into it. I think we haven’t heard much about this because the club is still trying to figure it out for themselves. Also, I’ve been questioning for a while what type of song Takinami would write for the club, and that was answered in this chapter.

What we do know about the song is that it has the 4-person part with Chika, Kota, Momoya, and Yoshinaga, a part where all 9 of the club members play together, a part where melodies played by Chika and Satowa and then Takezo and Hiro will intertwine, and everyone has a solo. It’s also been emphasized over and over that all 9 people are needed to play the song. Takinami has only given his usual vague hints as to what meaning he put into the song, because like always he wants the club to figure it out for themselves. Until we get to ch.104, in which Chika interprets it in such the opposite way of how Takinami meant it that Takinami finally feels the need to give him a hint as to what the song means (and thank god, because I really don’t think that poor Chika would’ve gotten it at all otherwise).

In chapter 104, we learn that “I” is actually a piece that can be played with any amount of the 9 parts and still be a full song. This is a huge deal, and honestly blew my mind when I first read it. Takinami has specifically pushed the idea that everyone needs to be there to play this song, knowing full well that in actuality the song would be complete no matter how many people played it. Everyone is still essential in his eyes because the point is the desire to play with everyone and the importance each member holds to each other. Takinami even brings up the conversation he and Chika had before Ku-on, showing just how huge of an impact the whole situation with Ku-on had on Takinami. With the performance of Ku-on, he saw what this group was really made of and what they were capable of, even in less than ideal circumstances they pulled through an intensely emotional performance. Takinami finally found a sound he couldn’t ignore. The conversation Takinami and Chika have in ch.25, when Takinami tells Chika he shouldn’t perform and Chika responds that he really enjoys playing with everyone, that sentiment made it into “I.” Except now, the tables are turned and instead Chika still desperately wants to play, but absolutely will not if it means no one else gets to and thinks that he won’t be able to, and Takinami has taken a complete 180 on what his stance was during Ku-on. Unlike in Ku-on, Chika is, in a way, trying to drop out, and now Takinami is the one telling Chika to stay and play. I honestly love this whole conversation between them, I love how Takinami gets pissed at Chika for even thinking about withdrawing from the club, I love that he points out that Chika is only 16 and does not have to take everything on himself, it’s just so great and just what I was hoping for: someone to knock some sense into Chika.

Anyway, then Takinami gives us the first hint as to what he intended “I” to mean. To paraphrase “Stop focusing only on what the others mean to you, and begin to think about what you mean to them.” This is something that pretty much everyone in the club has a problem with. They care about each other so much, will stand up for each other, but they don’t think about the fact that all the others care about them just as much. Takinami is trying to shift the focus from “these people are important to me” to “what do I mean to them?” hoping that these oblivious teens will someday get it. This works for so many of the characters.

Firstly, let’s talk about Takezo. He’s been club president from the beginning, and he’s always been a great one but has really come into his own. I think everyone sees him as an amazing club president, a leader that holds them together and believes in all of them as a whole and individually. He doesn’t see himself that way. Takezo has the opening notes of “I”, it all starts with him just how the entire club was brought together by him. He’s explicitly stated that he sometimes wishes that someone like Satowa could begin the song because he’s worried about the fact that his is the first sound in the song. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to give a strong enough opening because he still sees himself as a bit inadequate. But how does the rest of the club see him? They see him as this strong club president, someone who’s always been there as the foundation, so why shouldn’t he be able to start the song and be it’s foundation throughout? So, it would help Takezo if he saw himself the way the rest of the club does, because then he’ll realize just what he means to them and hopefully see what they do in himself.

With Momoya, Takinami made a big deal about the fact that he needed to want to play with the club, and that he had to want it for himself. This ties back to the conversation before Ku-on that Takinami has weaved through “I”. But it was also important for Momoya to take up an identity with his sound, to decide to be something, and own up to being someone with a mutable sound. He can fit in, but it all needs to be his choice. Momoya has also never thought about what he means to the club, and they keep surprising him with how friendly they are and how much they care about him. They just want him to be himself and stay in the club. Hopefully he starts realizing that soon.

If there’s one thing that Chika is truly terrible at it’s realizing his worth, both with himself and with other people. As Tetsuki says in ch.99.5 “I bet Chika never thought that he himself could be thought of dearly by somebody else.” Chika still definitely struggles with that. He has no problem letting everyone else know how much they’re cared for, how much they’re valued, but when it comes to himself, he still doesn’t see how he could be a person someone thinks of as dear. He still sometimes gets surprised by little acts of caring. With all this stuff with Uzuki going on, he’s more worried about the wellbeing of the club, meanwhile all the members are more worried about him than the state of the club. I think that’s almost incomprehensible to Chika, and yet it’s there, and in the next chapter it will hopefully come through loud and clear just how much they all care about him, but especially Satowa as she literally won’t let him do this alone.

Satowa, too, is terrible at realizing how much she means to people, as shown by the fact that Chika and the others literally have to spell it out for her sometimes. She doesn’t like being a burden, she doesn’t want to do anything that would disrupt or upset their lives. But she doesn’t really see how much those people care about her and that when you care about someone like that it isn’t a burden. Satowa’s self-worth is low, at least in some areas, and she always puts the club over her own desires or feelings due to having hurt people before, specifically her mother. Hiro even tells her in Ch.92 that the club can withstand whatever emotions she decides to express, but Satowa doubts that. Satowa, much like Chika, needs to come to the realization that people care more about her than they do the club, and again, thinking of herself from the perspective of how much the other’s care could help her realize this and her place in the club.  

Chika and Satowa both are afraid of being selfish, they don’t want to come off as selfish and they want to put other’s first, but their own feelings realistically get in the way of them being entirely selfless. As Granny says to Chika in ch.77, you have to cherish yourself to be able to give to others and it’s important to think about yourself so that you can have a life you’re happy with. So, both he and Satowa need to start thinking of themselves in a more positive way instead of thinking it’s selfish, which could be helped if they looked at how other’s care about them, which is what “I” is all  about.

Now let’s talk about these two intertwining melodies, one of which will be played by Chika and Satowa and the other by Takezo and Hiro, the section Takinami seems to have set aside for the oblivious lovebirds. Takezo and Hiro have each realized, on their own, that they’re in love with each other, and yet haven’t made the connection that the other feels the same way. Part of this is preservation of the club, but seriously how do you not realize? With Satowa and Chika, it’s even more complicated, and I plan to make a full post about it, but they certainly have never really thought about how the other must feel about them. Later on in the chapter, after Chika’s conversation with Takinami, Chika literally asks Satowa what she thinks of him. Not only did Chika take in what Takinami had to say, in the only way he’d listen which is through koto song terms, he thought about it while he was having lunch with Satowa and was trying to ask her a very important question about it before they were so rudely interrupted by the reminder of just how insane Uzuki is.

I think especially for Chika, Satowa, and Takezo, (who I look at as the main trio) this message of realizing who you are to the people around you is a huge part of their journey. They all need to stop denying themselves their own feelings, which is basically what Takinami was trying to tell them with “I.”

So, I seriously wondered for a while what kind of song Takinami had written for these kids. What better meaning could it have than pushing these people to realize just how much they mean to each other and start focusing on how those they care about see them, not just the other way around? Especially for Takinami, who puts up with a lot but ultimately wants to help these kids and believes in them.

I’m really glad he gave Chika the hint though, because I truly do not believe these kids would’ve gotten what “I” is about if he hadn’t given them that push considering they all avoid thinking about how the other’s must care about them, some of them I think are even afraid to think of it. It’s so perfect and I’m so excited to see where they go with it.  

ps. I’m new to posting and stuff, so please be kind.