#i remember having a surge of inspiration and writing this all in one sitting at my desk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yojeongin · 3 months ago

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I remember everything | j.jh

→burnt-out writer!jaehyun x host f!reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, summer fling, found home, strangers to lovers to strangers again, missed connection, 80's au

synopsis: jaehyun didn’t think meeting you in that quaint lonesome countryside town would come in between him and writing something hopeful and lively in contrast to all of his gloomy work. in fact it was a blessing to have someone help him navigate the foreign country. yet life always has something up its sleeve no matter how soul crushing.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mentions/implementations of poor mental health, abusive higher ups, mentions of bad parenting, unprotected sex.

wc: 28.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are ONLY characters. read at your own discretion.

an: summer is gone and I tried posting this for the past 2 months so here is an ode to the place that inspired it all.

The contents of the box had been sitting unwrapped for what felt like an eternity after recalling last week’s events. The miscellaneous items your family sent were a recurring sight but it was rare that Ollie sent you anything besides his letters.

What disturbed you most is his choice of item. Those bold scripted yellow letters mock you. You weren’t upset with him, you could never be upset with him. You know it’s not his doing, that he was put up to it. What upsets you is the resurfacing thoughts you had hid away in the vault of your memory years ago when you remained naive and to your disgrace revived with one detail.

Courage was the last thing in you. It surged through, more so forcibly, perhaps even masochistically. That seems correct because the second you open to the first page, images you believed you would never see, fly out, reminding you of a life that you can only describe as a daydream.

Every single image had something written in the back of it. You attempt to refrain from reading each note. With no avail, the loops of his handwriting draw you in as much as his piercing gaze and the smile you still dream about – those dimples you can’t forget no matter how much you now look at them on someone else.

There’s a folded letter slotted before the dedication page. It smells like him and you can’t help being transported to the summer you met him. The pleasantly strong cologne you could smell even in the masses of stench when cleaning the pen. Or through the window you two sneaked kisses at night.

You don’t want to cry, you truly try not to, yet the waterworks flow when you finally focus on the dedication page of this damned book.

‘To the life I needed all along… I remember everything.’

Jaehyun remembers with fondness the tranquility of what he considers home. The warmth that filled his chest with every waking moment he spent in that beautiful quaint village. And now looking and thinking back at it, that fondness muddles with the pain in his heart. That’s not what he wants nor needs, that’s not what he came here for.

Jaehyun could get behind it, it was nice. He immediately got used to the cool breeze which felt more like a chilly autumn rather than the grueling summer. He could definitely get used to the smell of wood burning from stoves and chimneys that indicated locals began their day. Similar enough to the rough housing from goats and sheep’s bleats to roosters for them to shut up, that the sun was enough of a wake up call.

Fairly loud, not nearly as much as the city. It was one thing to admire the beauty outside of his temporary residence. Bougainvillea vines, flamboyant and bright, purloining his attention to let him know they were the star of the show, overshadowing any other house around.

Jaehyun needed something and all he knew was that he had to escape the constraints of his overpopulated and 24/7 bustling city that has cursed him to hell multiple times for not giving it a heartfelt ovation. How could he when he’s been shown nothing but hatred from it since he stepped foot in that hell hole?

Things should be different here, he knows that – he’s been shown.

His taxi driver spoke idly about his day. Describing the breakfast his wife had made before he left. His daughter had visited to drop off their grandson while she went to work at the local market but in the process the kid had fallen down the steep steps claiming all he wanted as comfort was to spend time with his ‘Tito’. So there he was making rocket sounds and hammering the glove compartment with the pale sun-eaten toy car that caused his fall. In the process, turning back to Jaehyun asking if he liked dishes he had never heard of before that the kid didn’t like himself.

Jaehyun remembers it well.

How can such a beautiful place bring him agony?

He wanted to stray away from those pessimistic feelings that had shackled him for years, tainting every single one of his pieces. When his publisher and manager told him it would be best to go somewhere he’d know nothing about his world, to have time to think about a new story, he was the first one to say goodbye, muttering under his breath that he wished he’d never see them again. Jaehyun was elated to know he was given a golden ticket out.

The past few launches and expectations had been hectic. Drowning him with stress and though many would think being a successful writer at such a young age was all fun and games, they'd think otherwise when your team is hollering in your ear daily to come up with new content and critics claiming you’ve yet again failed to provide anything meaningful besides pretentiousness.

Jaehyun is tired of that dark monotonous and consuming cycle they’re forcing him to be in. So he’s hopeful and excited to see what this beautiful rural village can bring him. Hopeful that it’ll break those shackles of misery that cling to him until his ankles bruise and bleed. Hopeful to find meaning to this life that he’s been searching for.

Struck with awe throughout his entire trajectory down the cobble and dirt-filled path from midtown to the house, the animal noises he had managed to drown became louder upon pushing open the metal door, growing wary. When he finally crossed the threshold he was met with the image of someone tussling with a ram, enough to get tackled and Jaehyun can only explain that feeling as freight.

That was the first time he met you.

From far away and with his feet grounded in fear, the fear you didn’t have regardless of all those rammings. That must’ve hurt, Jaehyun thinks so. How could it not? The beast came in charging three times, each making the impact seem worse. Twisted horns able to bruise the skin of your thighs.

Every step closer increases his shock. Muffled groans and curses from you mixed with laughter from your grandfather that stood and watched. Neither of you blame him, being the victim of that damn thing at 80 had caused irreparable damage to his hip. There’s nothing he could have done. At best he mangles the rope beside the stake, swinging it in hopes of getting it off you.

Jaehyun felt inutile. He had no experience with animals nor with any labor besides what his father would drag him into. It’s not his fault he became a writing prodigy. His brute strength was useless if he was too scared to jump into the pen to help you.

It was more shocking when a scrawny boy in a simple white tee, dusty jeans, heavy work boots just as muddy had pushed through him. Yelling something he couldn’t understand but later found it meant “Get the fuck out the way!” He didn’t mean to be malicious but he was scared himself. Jumping over the pen’s fence and pulling the damned ram off of you, he slaps its rear as a form of discipline. It amazes Jaehyun how effortless he made it look.

Finally free and things having calmed down, Jaehyun saw the elderly man seize his laughter. Genuine tears slip from his eyes. He was scared, truly scared it could have been your end. Having experienced it himself, he couldn’t help both sympathize and feel guilty. You and the kid reassured him it was fine. It wasn’t a first but your grandpa wouldn’t hear it, sighing as he continued to sob.

Jaehyun later found that he was insanely sensible. Laughing things off to calm himself to eventually break down.

In attempts to ease his pain, you had sent the young boy to fetch your grandpa a coke and some bread.

Nowadays, Jaehyun consumes those items whenever he grows scared

Making your way with a limp that your grandfather mimicked due to his own attack and age, Jaehyun finally approaches you both, voice slightly quivering.

“Are you alright?!” Jaehyun quips, your head turns to him un-amusedly. Cautious but relaxed for whoever’s sake. “Yeah… it’s not the first time.” You try to smile at the stranger who is obviously not from the village inside the premise of your grandparent’s home. It only dawned upon you who he was when you noticed the pristine suitcases in his hands. Holding the handles like a lost victorian count in search of a new start in the bustling dirty city – despite the contrast.

“You’re the new tenant, right?” You ask, limp finally gone after something cracked. Jaehyun winces, amused with the nonchalant tone in your voice; he nods fervently. “Yeah, um, I can pay for a few months up front if you don’t mind.” Neither of you had noticed that both had stopped walking, your grandpa already in the house, leaving you to speak with the young and attractive man before you.

“Months?”

Jaehyun nods. “If you don’t mind or have another tenant.” He feels sheepish; confident in your eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s been open for months.”

It’s amazing to him how you’re acting like you didn’t almost need a ride to the nearest hospital. Seeing the limp gone and crouching down to pick up a bucket full of dry corn kernels like nothing. He could have believed everything he saw didn’t really happen.

It’s recurring if he thinks back to it, how everything felt so fleeting and surreal. He despises and feels it mocking him daily.

Following you around like a lost puppy while you sprinkled the ground with those kernels, he took note of the expression on your face. You’re still in pain, it’s written all over the movements you make. He rules you’re ignoring it to not seem ill before him or specifically to reassure your grandfather.

Jaehyun has a strong image in your eyes. It would crumble with just about anything and you felt comfortable figuring that out. Just like it has done now, with chickens rushing and flooding the area to gobble down their meal. Jaehyun was startled and scared they’d peck him in the process.

You try not to laugh despite the giggles leaving in spurts. Nearing the kitchen door, you stop in your tracks to look at him. “Don't worry about the pay, it won't be necessary.” It troubles him and this time he won’t hold his thoughts. Well, he wasn’t going to but as soon as his lips parted, the sprint door opened, showing a much shorter and pudgier older woman. He reckons that’s your grandmother so he smiles and greets her accordingly.

She accepts it, returning the favor before going back to business in handing you the bowl full of pepper seeds and stems to feed the chickens. That left him and your grandmother alone, inviting him to the kitchen.

He studied the kitchen upon crossing the threshold, admiring the huge chimney in the right corner, soot covered it along the boiling metal bucket of water. There was a chair in front of it, one of those school chairs that cling onto your hair until it’s off your scalp.

A metal cabinet in between the entrance door and the hallway. It’s dusty, showcasing fine china that was never used. He found the cracks above the very tall ceilings the most enchanting, all leading to portraits above the hallway’s threshold. Trajectory and lineage demonstrated through the years. Most recently: one of you with your diploma.

Beautiful. Utterly beautiful, he thought.

“Come, I’ll show you around.”

The tour was simple, the hallway that connected the main room and kitchen was a room in itself. Privacy wasn’t really an option within these walls but it didn’t matter, he wasn’t the one sleeping in the main house.

All he had to know about this house was that it was an old canteen that your grandmother’s father bought for her as a wedding gift. The hallway had a bed your grandfather slept on, a couch he sat to watch the TV propped on top of a dresser in the main room –where he’d join him often– and a door that led to the guest’s area.

Despite the open concept, she didn’t show him the room where you and her slept in. He caught a glimpse of a door to the only restroom in there –restroom with a window he would spend his nights at often–, a vanity you both filled with expired products, and two beds on opposite sides. He figures the one with a pristine Garfield plush was yours.

Jaehyun felt the clarity of finding home within these few minutes. It was summer and the house was freezing without a clunky AC unit, he was in heaven if you asked him. It felt cozy and he liked that it wasn’t stuffy like his apartment back home, it felt like love. Cold, unspoken care and love.

The tour ended by the time both reached the guest area. The door was open after you swept but things never lasted clean here, the entrance full of dust again. Your grandmother looked tired and apologetic that she couldn’t continue, reassuring him his room was fine, warranting her to yell your name and rushing to her side.

She asks you to show him, motioning for him to follow you with your head. It felt like a full circle when you both hopped down the step from the house to the courtyard. He looked at the threshold he entered through, the door was closed now, decorated with flowers made out of dust, crafted by Ollie when he had free time. Your grandfather sat on a chair near the pen with the young man, eating his bread and smoking a cigarette that he pretends to hide.

Following you, Jaehyun took notice of the mountain of rocks and flowers near his room. A monument to a holy being he had only seen a few times. It was beautiful, vibrant flowers in comparison to the rocks. Some cactus and critters roam on small trinkets and a river flows up and down each rock.

Jaehyun finds himself behind a wall of jacarandas which cover the entrance to his room. The door unlocks with a screech, Jaehyun, hopeful it was just as inviting as the home only to be shortly disappointed when it felt warm inside and the walls maintained a darker hue. It was newly made, it lacks love.

Sensing his hesitance, your voice aims to distract him. “It’s not much, the bed is new if you must know. My uncle should bring in the TV but in the meantime you have free reign to the boombox or the kitchen’s.” Apologetic smile decorating your face. “You can open the window if it gets hot, Ollie is fixing up the fan. Feel free to go into the house, we don’t mind.” You hope that will help his decision, you’d hate to see him leave.

He wants to thank you with the words stuck in his throat, something you noticed well enough that intensified the feeling that clogged your own. “Um, yeah… New bed, the lamp and main light work, window opens, and you have your own personal bathroom. Unfortunately, the boiler is still very old fashioned so you will have to warm it or boil some water in the chimney to shower.” You hope that repeating yourself will convince him, restraining yourself from begging.

It has its flaws but he has decided not to care. “I’ll take it. It’s still $130 for the month, right?” He smiles boyishly, putting down his suitcases. It gives you a sense of tenderness and relief. You want to sigh and smile, giggle with appreciation. “Don’t worry about that, the room is yours.” You hand him the key, that’s the best you can manage.

His lip slightly juts out and eyebrows furrow with your words. “What do you mean by that? Please, I insist.” He turns to you, taking a step closer, forcing you to bite the inside of your lower lip. “I can double it if you prefer.” He pleads, head tilting to the side with wide eyes. It’s not intentional, he’s unaware of the effects he has on people. He’s scared you’re tricking him to not keep the room, to give it to someone else. Almost like you aren’t finding his presence enjoyable. If only he knew how much you would love for him to stay.

“It’s not that, trust me.” You walk towards the door, avoidingly. “It’s nice to not be alone. To have someone else around.” Your eyes don’t meet his, he understands. Letting it go, he thanks you in a whisper. “By any chance can I use your phone?” He asks in attempts to change the atmosphere.

Apologies fill your eyes like previous conversations. “It’s off until Monday.” It’s Wednesday.

“There’s a little store a block or two from here, not far at all. You can leave from either side, it’s flamboyantly yellow so you won’t miss it.” His excursion to find this place alone will say otherwise. “The name is painted on with neon green, ‘Gaby’s’ it’s called.” You laugh, looking at the expression on his face. He thanks you and follows behind the exit of the room, parting ways.

Despite the rundown homes and slight deterioration here and there, Jaehyun liked the tranquility and uncertainty in pertinence to the weather. One second he is granted with the warmth of vitamin D, the other he is threatened with the smell of wet dogs. This town had it all, yet none of it interfered with the breeze that calmed him as his hair waltzed around, singing in his ear that he was in the right hands, finally at ease.

You were right about not missing the store. He can laugh now – he did when taking the final corner, being met with what he felt was covered in buckets of highlighter ink. It was almost comical how opposite the owner was from her lively store and home.

“Good morning.” He mutters, “What are your rates for long distance calls?” She looks at him, pulling out a booklet from the phone company, arms working like it’s a chore.

“How far?” “Overseas.”

She looks at him through lashes, sighing, flipping another page.

“$3.56 per minute.”

Jaehyun’s eyes bulge out, nodding frighteningly. The process goes accordingly: she hands him the phone, writes down his name and the location before looking at him to dial on that old dinky home phone. The wires are sticky from tape residue with some edges popping out. It was her mother’s from 1957 but she loves it more than her third born.

He rotates the wheel, hanging up one or three times until he finally gets it. When the other line finally picks up, she starts a timer. “It’ll be quick.” He mentions. “Take your time.” She smiles.

“Hello? Hellooo~.” The voice on the other line calls out, ready to hang up, a pair of blondes far more important than this are waiting for him. “Hyunjoo?” Jaehyun asks, hand clasping the bottom of the phone. “Yeah? Who is this?” His words sound slurred, not enough to call him drunk.

“It’s Jaehyun.”

An eruption of laughter and greetings is heard in the background, smiling at how welcoming it felt, although strange. “Jaehyunie! How are you finding it there? Fun?… You know when Jude showed me the pictures I thought you were crazy for choosing that… place! Do you think you can hold out long?!” He laughs diminishingly, Jaehyun’s smile falters, his heart aching as it usually does when it comes to Hyunjoo.

He clears his throat, standing straight. “It’s great, I really like it so far and I’ve only seen the house.” He musters a laugh. “Listen, long-distance calls are expensive so I think we should only communicate through letters, okay? I just wanted to call to let you know I was fine.” He’s ready to end the conversation here. It didn’t start how he wanted it and a reminder of his actuality is not what he wants.

“No… no, now wait a minute!” It wasn’t Hyunjoo on the line anymore but Jude, his manager who was far more sober than his publisher. Some tussling and grunting here and there on the other line, Jaehyun sighs looking at how quickly he was pushing three minutes already.

Eventually Jude got through, scolding the drunkard. “Now what do you mean you won’t call? Don’t be dumb, I need to hear from you!” He bites onto his cigarette, scolding Jaehyun like a small kid, like the child he pretends is his. “It’s too much, Jude. Plus, the house doesn’t have a phone right now so you can’t reach me.” His foot bounces, scoffing like a petulant child proclaiming independence from their family.

Jude went on a tirade about how it wasn’t good for Jaehyun to go cold on them but the younger one wasn’t hearing it. The entire premise of this trip was to forget about them all so why won’t they let him? “Okay too much time, too much money, bye!” Jaehyun cuts the conversation short, giggling as the yelling got louder. Seizing when the timer hits six minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

“$24.92.” A wide smile decorates the owner’s rotund face, sticking her hand out. Nothing left but to sigh and hand her the money.

Jaehyun takes this opportunity to explore the village, mesmerized by the intricacies of carved ornate decorations onto walls and doors. In awe with the obvious distinctions between newly built homes and colonial ones he found far more attractive. Architecture was not his only interest, not when the mocking tango of scent swirls drag him to the plaza. Taunting him with delectable treats and meals at every corner and hall.

If he wanted to fall further in love, then the market currently taking place should do. Colorful carps and music from corner to corner, swaying him through the fabric made halls. Jingles of welcomings and hollering flood the ears of every passerby. Whether he wanted fresh produce, flavored shaved ice, fruit cocktails, clothes, or even toys, Jaehyun could find it all. It reminded him of the swap meet he encountered with his friends once when living in Connecticut years ago. This was surely far more inviting and lively.

Through his trail around the halls, Jaehyun came to a halt upon seeing you standing before your grandfather on the bench your grandmother’s family had donated. Worry filled your face but the older man’s laughter was far more deafening and comforting. An internal warmth forces your head to turn, spotting him immediately for your eyes to meet.

“Need help?” Jaehyun offers embarrassedly, you deny. Your grandfather is receptive despite your light scolding. “It’s fine, really.” You try but both men insist. “Do you know how to repair cars?” Your grandfather asks, Jaehyun shakes his head apologetically, all which prompts your grandpa to huff and shake his own head.

“The car broke down.” He’s met with another of your apologetic smiles, as if he’s the one being wronged and not you and your grandfather. “I’m just going to finish off the shopping, mind giving him an eye?” You ask Jaehyun, the first favor to be exact and he couldn't be more elated to not feel useless.

It’s shut down by the older of the three, complaining and almost throwing a tantrum over how he didn’t need a babysitter. It wasn’t completely wrong, the entire village knew him so watchful eyes were all around, it’s not like you couldn’t trust him to be on his own. “No, no. Matter of fact, help her with the bags. Go on, look at how heavy they are.” He scolds Jaehyun, throwing away any unfamiliarity out the window. That’s one thing about him, he’s too trusting.

Like a child in between parents having an argument, Jaehyun didn’t know who to listen to. Fortunately you give up and sigh, motioning with your head for him to follow you. He took a handful of bags from your hand, some left in the care of your grandfather that was well situated on the bench.

He gave you both his blessing, shooing you off to embark in an awkwardly silent walk with nothing but the blaring music vendors played to fill that emptiness. He had so much he wanted to ask, to say, to know what you could teach him about the village or if you knew how he could travel to neighboring ones. He was giddish and that’s all that took for you to turn to him with a smile.

“Quite a bad host, aren’t I? I didn’t even introduce myself.” You giggle, stopping at a stand. “It’s okay, I didn’t either, I’m sorry. I’m Jaehyun.”

“Y/n,” You give him a quick glance, taking a bag from a vendor. “What are you doing here, anyways? No one comes here for pleasure.” Jaehyun could tell more words hung on the tip of your tongue, ones you swallow down. He didn’t know how to answer. If someone else asked him, he’d mention how he wanted some inspiration, to see what he could bring into fruition but with you his sincere words threatened to spill.

How could he mutter: “I think I hate my life and those in it, so my manager and publisher shipped me off somewhere I’d be far from that world. I think they just wanted to get rid of me but it’s what I wanted all along…”

“Oh?”

Shit. Just like that.

“I-I… I didn’t mean to say that.” He scolds himself. This had never happened before, what the hell was that?! Your laughter doesn’t help and he’s scared you’re laughing at his problems. He doesn’t want to believe someone like you could be this cruel.

“It’s okay.”

That’s not reassuring. “It’s okay. I hated where I was a year ago too, so I was also shipped here.” That’s comforting– somewhat.

Your shoulders shimmy as you pay for the produce, walking towards another stand. “Granted, my aunt got sick. She was my grandparents' caretaker but it was getting worse and I took the role.” From the depths of your pocket, you pull out some pumpkin seeds, handing him a few for him to crack, not counting with the coating of salt to scald his tongue.

“She comes back here and there to check in and help but eventually she has to go back for constant checkups. I hadn’t found a job right out of college so this was my next best option and I like it – far more so, I think.” A sincere smile adorns your face; this was comforting.

Things went far more smoothly after that introduction. He told you about his books and what he wanted to do here. He told you about how miserable he felt and how abusive the city seemed to be towards him. You told him that you missed your city but the reality of facing adulthood in the area was weighing down on you. He figured this was your reality escape and although grim on your end, he felt ecstatic for himself. He felt like he finally found exactly what he needed.

The conversation went well with a few laughs here and there until reaching full circle with cups of shaved ice in a bag to take home and yours in hand. Bliss was momentarily gone when you reached the bench and didn’t spot your grandfather. Regardless, it didn’t take long for a seller to let you know his nephew gave him a ride.

These instances made Jaehyun appreciate your gentleness for your grandparents. Although aware of how you try to hide your emotions from him, the guard falls when it comes to them. It’s admirable.

Noise didn’t break the bubble of silence you remained in until entering the kitchen where your grandfather was sitting at a table already, your grandmother making his coffee while Ollie tired and sweaty relaxed by the door, munching on a candybar he bought when getting the fright remedy. A token of appreciation from your grandfather for the cigarette.

“We didn’t see you, I almost had a heart attack.” You mock reprimand, a smile setting on your face seeing the older man safe and sound. No matter how hard you try to act angry, seeing him eat the rest of his bread while waiting for lunch calms you down. “I’m the old one here, save the ailments for another sixty years.” he cackles, Jaehyun beginning to find comfort in your grandfather’s ability to find humor in anything.

“I think our guest might want out already.” He teases, sneaking a piece from Ollie’s candy. The boy doesn’t protest, doing the same with the shaved ice you brought. Jaehyun felt his ears warm up, nervously denying it with no avail as your grandpa kept insisting with that same laugh. Dying when your grandma scolds him to leave Jaehyun alone.

Jaehyun giggles quietly, shaking his head. “Please believe me. I think it’s beautiful so far.” Your grandma hums, the one to speak is Ollie. “There’s nothing here. What’s beautiful about it?” He shrugs with a scowl. “He hasn’t seen the other towns, give it time, Ol.” You intervene, forcing him to taste test the rice.

“Well, what if you and Ollie, whenever he can, show…”

“Jaehyun.” You help your grandmother, playfully glaring at the young boy for feedback on the dish. The elderly give each other a quick glance while Ollie makes a mocking thumbs down when he knows the smile on his face says otherwise.

She nods, scooping a spoonful of lard into the pan. “Why don’t you and Ollie show Jaehyun around after your duties. I doubt he wants to stay all hours here.” Jaehyun doesn’t know how to feel. He’s embarrassed, he’s also bashful and feels imposing. “It’s okay, I can manage. I don’t want to overstep.” He nervously chuckles, ears brightening.

“Okay.” You shut him up. He turns to you, silence deafening yet comforting, even when you finally lift your head to look at him, nodding. “It’s okay, just let us know what you want to see.” You’re much calmer than he is, it causes his body to tense despite being thankful with how inviting you are. How inviting you all are, he thinks he can see himself here for longer.

“Thank you.” He meets your eyes with a smile, thankful and glad. It’s reciprocated, knocking down the nonchalant act.

The first outings don’t go past the premises of the village. With planting being the main priority, neither you or Ollie have time to take him anywhere. The younger spent his days working the tractor, taking your grandfather up and down as his mentor despite his own father being there.

Jaehyun tried to help once but was booted by both men and their laughter. He won’t fault them, he almost ruined a row of freshly planted beans and if he was to learn anything throughout this trip, he’d learn that any grain and imperfection was important enough to ruin the entire harvest. Instead he was left to pavement clearing, making sure no rocks or debris got in the way of vehicles.

The following week he had been left to his vices at home. You had apologetically told him they found assistance and he should enjoy his trip at home. Although there was nothing left to do, not for him at least. Your grandmother wouldn’t let him lift a finger in the kitchen and she didn’t like his cleaning style, leaving it to you if she was busy.

Ollie had fixed the fan by now. The new motor made the room freeze, mimicking the room temperature of the home. Cold enough that Jaehyun preferred to leave the window open despite the crawlers that woke him at night. Now he contemplates whether he should turn the fan on or sleep with cotton filled eardrums.

Jaehyun lays in bed, bored and antsy for something to do. The sound of your arguing with animals overpower the boombox next to his head, melodies he didn’t understand.

The fountain pen on his hand never felt far heavier, a sign that he had nothing new to produce. No, the only thing his hand mustered to write was the noises you made. Whatever pertains to you.

“Tutt-tutt.” “Cluth-cluth… No, Constance! Don’t peck me!” “Behhh, behhh! Here, what a cry baby.”

Jaehyun found joy through you and your acts of love.

“Meow, meow, meow! I can do that too! I already fed you, Fina! Gluttony is a sin, you know.”

Days went on like this, it’s repetitious but he doesn’t complain. Past times he’d think what he’s doing now was all he wanted but a mind never rests and his body is antsy for new experiences. He no longer wants to lie and feel the breeze rush through the window to coddle him, forcing the sheer white curtains to dance around for his attention.

Jaehyun tucks away his journal, buttoning up his shirt and slipping on the work boots he bought with only four days here. Full of glee and excitement he bought them to help your grandfather. He reckoned if he was going to get down and dirty then he should be dressed accordingly.

With pep to his step, Jaehyun makes a beeline towards the pen. What used to be barking of unfamiliarity turned to a simple bark for attention, received with wagging tails. He made sure to pat their heads until reaching the fence, looking at you conversing with Camila, the donkey.

“Aha and what else did he do?... No! You should’ve kicked him straight in the leg, Cami. He can’t talk to you like that!.” You nod and hum at her playfully, received with brays and nods. Jaehyun doesn’t know what you’re talking about but he’s glad that you’re having fun.

New hay had been brought in the morning, far more greener and fresh which left the old hay to be moved around for maintenance. In the process of such, strays found themselves near the dogs, enough to crunch under his step. Like a deer caught in headlights, Jaehyun stops, ears reddening by the whip of your head and Camila’s blaring bray.

“Hi…” He mutters timidly, cause of your smile. “Hi.” You reciprocate with the softest welcoming. He takes the initiative to approach you, standing a few feet behind. Neither say anything, amused with Camila’s treacherous ways in leaving you to gain his attention. Head bumping onto his hand to mimic the pats he left on the dogs.

Pleased she throws a kick, sending old hay flying towards the lambs and goats that reproach her action. You share a giggle, forcing you two to give each other a quick glance. “I think she likes you.” You mention, “I like her too.” He replies, petting her ears, as red as his. “Well don’t feed her ego, now. It’s already through the roof.” You teasingly scoff, another airy laugh leaves him.

“Don’t be harsh, I think she needs it. I mean, I don’t know what you two were talking about just now but it seems like she needed her confidence there.” He smiles at you, taking her face into both hands. Your groan makes him wink at Camila, thankful that he’s found something to converse with you. “Her and Ollie–” Camila brays, removing Jaehyun’s touch from her. “They have such an intense hate-love relationship that his name throws her off, so I’m giving her advice on how to deal with it. Right, Mila?” Understandingly, she nods, seeking your attention again.

“Granted it’s all made up, she’s a little jealous but with you here I think Ollie should take the role.” She brays again, aiming to bite your hand. You get away just in time, sticking your tongue out at her. Jaehyun receives the image with laughter, his chest filled with joy.

He shakes his head, petting hers to calm her down. “No, I don’t want to be responsible for their failure.” You nod, picking up a metal rake. “Mind if I help you? It’s getting boring there…” He’s ashamed to admit it. You sympathize with him, after all when you used to visit you often fell in his shoes.

“Alright, a heads up, this will be messy work.” He nods obediently, eyes shimmering with their natural gloss and the sun’s reflection.

Darn him and his cuteness!

Blinking the thought away you hand him a broom and the rake. “Here, hold these while I tie up this maniac.” Your eyes squint meeting those of the ram that tackled you when he arrived. His own mimicking yours, it was on and he knew it.

With rope in your hand, test swings approaching the pen’s door, the beast starts to test the waters. Three…two…one! What ensues is a battle between both, Jaehyun trying his best to help. He envisioned that this rivalry is what Ollie and Camila had, he’d witness it a few days prior. The only exception that you and Whitey hated each other to the core. He never knew why.

After a few falls and tugs here and there, you two managed to get him in the isolation pen. Scoffing and laughing as he settles on newly clean hay. While he relaxes, you both huff and hold onto the fence, wiping away any remnants of sweat. “Ready to work?” You question, Jaehyun felt like this was enough. Unfortunately it’s only the beginning.

With free and safe reign to go inside the pen, you lay out the map of where to go and be careful. The wall to the neighbors cooped the chickens. It was the time they laid eggs so cleaning it would be held off until a few days later. On the opposite side to the street, roosters had their own coups.

“All you have to do is separate the poop from the hay, that’s what the rake is for.” Jaehyun figured you felt apologetic for the task as the look you gave him when presenting the room manifested itself onto your face. If you only knew that he’d never say no to you.

He mutters an ‘alright’ with his brilliant smile, reassuringly. “While you do that,” you watch him struggle, “I’ll clean this one.” Your voice slowed, concentrated on how to maneuver. You referred to the pen around a large cactus. He didn’t give it much thought when you went in, he also felt it wouldn’t be that hard, the livestock discard balls for goodness sake.

He had the confidence that died along the way he swept and raked. For small balls they were pungent and he wasn’t handling it well, the uncovered smell of piss added to it. You try not to laugh when he gagged or turned around so you wouldn’t see him cover his face but it was becoming hard.

Endearing is the word you’re thinking of, even when he perceives it as mockery that his face falls into a pout when he hears your laughter. “Please don’t laugh at me.” He practically begs, head lifting for a waft of fresh air before pushing old disgusting hay into a trash bag.

“I’m sorry,” A laugh escapes. “It’s good I’m the one here, I wouldn’t doubt Ollie tormenting you if it was him here.” Jaehyun agrees, the difference being that he wouldn’t care for Ollie's ridicule, he’d play along and try his best to improve. He cares for your opinion which is far different.

“He did enough during harvest.” “I heard.”

Silence befalls as you continue, the sun seems to have hidden behind clouds for the time being.

“I’m sorry you’re not having a good time.” You broke the peace, his ears perking at the condolence lacing your voice. “I know you wanted an escape and I’m sorry I haven’t been of much help.” He couldn’t believe his ears. Why are you blaming yourself for something that should only matter to him? He has free will and range to get up and take the next taxi or bus to neighboring towns. You shouldn’t blame yourself for his decisions.

Escapism might not have come to him in the way intended but everyday has become a new experience for him. “Don’t… I promise that even picking up droppings is something new for me.” He rebuttals your claim, mirroring the same apologetic look you give him. “Y/n… I’ve been coddled all my life, this entire experience has been a new step for me and I feel like Bambi, positively.” He smiles, widely enough that it’s the first time you notice his deep dimples.

You sigh, unsure if it’s from relief, pash, or in between.

“Yeah, okay… I was in your shoes too when I began to stay as a caretaker. I’ve done all of this when I would visit but it was not as intense as it is now. I don’t mind, I’m here to help. I have to.” It sounds melancholic and he’s not sure how to interpret it.

Avoiding it you look around to see he’s done a good job. You’re actually very well impressed, the words that were meant to leave your mouth surely were appreciative but they’re shoved back down your throat when you attempt to stand up. It’s almost like his presence dumbifies you. Like you forget the world around you, manifesting itself in your careless and clueless actions like resting your open hand on a cactus while trying to stand up just to bring him comforting words.

Instead he’s met with your yelp as you prick your hand, head, and shoulder in the process of standing and tumbling down. Whitey’s karma has served you, he bleats mockingly when you keep on hurting yourself within the premise of his home.

Instinctively Jaehyun rushes to you, concerned and scared of what this could illicit. He isn’t safe of Whitey’s wrath, not when he helped you and has decreed the young brunette is of your interest. Rushing to your aid, Jaehyun doesn’t count on one of the sheep to leave her droppings on the path he’s taking. Fresh and new, it wasn’t difficult for Jaehyun to find himself slipping straight into the cactus that has served your own aches.

They say laughter is the best medicine. Both you and Jaehyun attempt it when your eyes meet but the throbbing is far more intense that you synchronize in wailing. Loud and tuneless, enough to drag out your grandmother from the kitchen and force laughter out of Ollie and your grandfather who were arriving from their daily duties.

Camila doesn’t stay too behind in her own laughter. You fear all the livestock was against you two or perhaps rooting for you in the most vicious way. It’s rotten to know this is the start of your shared misery and ache.

The accident had forced your grandparents to make it up to you both the following day. Early in the morning your grandfather drove you all to a neighboring town. Ollie groggily dragged himself out of his home despite his father’s complaints that he was being a burden. You reassured him he was always welcomed, your grandfather scolded his dad. Yelling at him to stop trying to force ideas in the boy’s head.

Jaehyun had taken in the scenery on his taxi drive although he’s convinced something is different this time. Aside from your grandfather teasing everyone when driving along the edge of the mountains, Ollie clinging to you ready to cry as if he didn’t surpass all of you in height.

It takes roughly an hour and a half to arrive at the destination and almost another to find parking they eventually found was free and available behind a cathedral. Everyone laughs at each other for missing it when minutes prior your grandfather was ready to turn the car around, hangry and annoyed at how this damn town was overcrowded with no parking spots.

For once he felt like an actual tourist, visiting the restaurant you all loved and gorging himself with the most delicious meal he’s ever tasted in his life – besides his mother’s cooking, of course! For reassurance, she will witness how happy he looked while eating through the picture you managed to snap of him.

After the meal, your grandparents attempted to walk for digestion but age made them give up as soon as you all reached the town’s plaza. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, you saw no problem with it, they’re together. All they asked was to bring them those donuts they loved dearly and a soda to share. Ollie took it in his hands to beat you to it. Now there you and Jaehyun stood looking at the elderly couple sat before you.

At the time it didn’t feel like a scheme but looking back at it, Jaehyun is sure you figured it out as well.

Despite the accident, you both went back to the timidness that sheltered you both. Stolen glances and polite smiles when caught, stopping here and there to take pictures of the architecture and culture. He wouldn’t tell you, but a good portion were candids of you. You look so pretty that he could not avoid capturing the only remnants of you he could keep.

Both try small talk, history pointers whenever reaching old buildings – most consisted of luring him away from hustlers. You’d laugh after every successful attempt and reward yourself with street snacks that he’d find too salty or too sweet, still delicious enough to risk getting scolded by his physician if it meant enjoying the wonders of life.

The day might have ended with shy conversations and laughs but both could testify that comfort is what surrounded you most. On his end he felt safe and secure, comfortable enough to laugh at anything you said because in whatever way he looked at it, your presence forced glee onto him. Warmth and comfort is what you would best describe it as and that’s what you have learnt care feels like.

Your grandmother began going easy on you after the accident and outing. You felt like a teenager visiting your grandparents again with how little she left for you to do and how she forced you to go out more often. Encouraging you to enjoy your summer as well while showing Jaehyun around.

Jaehyun is sure this was her way to make both of you appreciate the limited shared time. He’s thankful enough for it but bitter towards himself for losing some weeks at the start.

You began showing him around other towns. On times you went grocery shopping and he’d beat you to paying for it (his form of appreciation), he’d throw in a peach or two. His favorite, you figured.

At the neighboring market, he’d buy fridge magnets, five for the price of a large one. All which represented his favorite snacks he’s consumed during these days. You still remember teasing him for buying a mini replica magnet of a beer bottle. Later at home while rocking on a chair he showed you a layout of how he’d arrange them on his fridge. In the meantime, you helped him decorate the door to his room, enjoying the air the fan blew at both.

When it rained, Ollie forced both to dance under the cold drops. Enjoy life as you should, he justified. At night, he’d dragged you both to the night market. Showing Jaehyun his favorite drinks and laugh when you scold him for drinking like an old man with kidney issues. He would joke about you and Jaehyun being his parents and would even grab your hands to skip in between both when it was so easy for him to drag you down. Damn him and his tall genes.

He’d drag the joke far enough to reach home where your grandparents never missed the opportunity to throw in a “Take your brat with you.” whenever Ollie was available and you were to show Jaehyun around. Neither of you minded, Ollie was silent enough to let you two bask in each other’s presence and playful enough for you two to feel at ease and content.

In another universe, this would reign true and not a fragment of a life you’re all creating that was never to bloom.

After three months the festivities had reached your village and vendors from all around the country settled by the plaza. Intrigued at first and fascinated by what they sold, poor Jaehyun fell victim to one of the home goods sellers. Spending a large amount buying your grandmother some pots, pans, a set of dishes, and stools as a token of appreciation. He went overboard but was happy to help, blinded by the cheap prices. Jaehyun should’ve known something was off, he knows you would have talked him out of it but you had been arguing with another vendor that they took advantage of the painfully obvious foreigner in the meantime.

When arriving home and seeing he had been robbed, you got ready to argue and force them to give him his money back. He protested despite being defeated and sad he was swindled. He convinced you but not your grandparents and Ollie. The three had taken matters into their own hands while you two fetched salt blocks to replace in the pen. By the time you got back, Ollie’s hair was far more ruffled than usual and his face red while your grandfather laughed, taking a sip of his beer, clanking it with your grandmother’s. On the kitchen bar, Jaehyun’s money was laid out. Every single cent and interest returned to him, money he used to invite all to dinner and dessert with a gift of their choice.

Ollie wore his tonight. Gleefully trotting through the threshold of the gate, careful to not scuff the boots Jaehyun gladly bought while singing to gain attention. Jaehyun laid on bed, scribbling his thoughts on his days, one-liners here and there and far more of the noises you’ve made. In addition the lyrics to the song Ollie sang before your grandmother told him to stop before he ate a fly.

Fireworks had been going off all day and neighbor’s music loudened with their gates open. This wasn’t new but it seemed to be far more intense today out of all days. “Why aren’t you ready? You’re not going to the fair?” Ollie questions, out of breath and frantic to see your grandparents sitting on their chairs enjoying today’s weather with a cup of soda in one hand and pastries in the other.

Talks about a fair had not gone in deaf ears throughout the past three weeks but Jaehyun paid it no mind when he saw that no one else seemed concerned – besides Ollie. It seemed to be a big thing when he noticed more carps, games, and rides fully covering the plaza.

“Don’t think we will be going, Ol. Their knees hurt.” Your voice manifests itself, forcing Jaehyun to sit up and put away his journal. You had been doing some chores outside his room. Hanging laundry and watering the plants, the product of everything he’s written and attempted to draw today.

He follows outside, Ollie greets him, a mischievous smile on his lips forming an idea. “Why not? I’ll drive if you want! Do it for Jaehyun, he’s never going to experience this again.”

Ollie’s childish intuition strikes again, this time in the form of a gash against both of your chests.

You both knew it was true but reality is what Jaehyun wanted to escape and you had made sure to enable him. It just so happens that you have fallen victim to it as well.

No matter, he said he wanted to stay months so it should still be far along in the future. You think so… you implore.

Perceptive is a word to describe your grandparents. Despite their ache they figure it is not as big as the one brewing in the depths of your conscious and heart. As best as they can, they agree with the younglin and head inside to get ready.

Ollie is ecstatic, he’s always been a fan of these things but now that he was of age, he could enjoy it more with a drink or two. Not to mention things like these are grounds for finding partners and like any town boy who hasn’t found one, he’s looking forward to it. That’s what he tells you and Jaehyun at least but he knows he’ll spend his night looking after your grandparents, far more giddy about you two together.

He had been smart enough to put cinder blocks early in the morning in a parking spot front and center from the fair, forcing Jaehyun out of the car to move and put them behind the car once he parked so no one would block them. Perfect was his plan that once everyone got out of the car, his friends that occupied a bench scattered like roaches to give their seat to your grandparents. Both elders find it comical seeing right through Ollie.

Arriving just in time for the parade, all queen candidates drove around in their elaborately decorated transportation. Colors flying around similar to their presentation favors, many which ended up hitting both Jaehyun and Ollie in the head. The older of the two made sure to take pictures of it while Ollie complained, claiming he was glad he didn’t vote for whoever hit him. The new reigning queen didn’t appear until the end. It was far more of a social economic competition. Whoever paid more won therefore it wasn’t surprising when a queen from years prior won again.

“You should’ve signed up, you would’ve won, Y/n.” Ollie elbows you, received with an eye roll. “Right, Jaehyun?” That devious brat, always finding a way to make you miserable. You try not to turn to Jaehyun, yet his gaze is so intense that it forces you to do so slowly. His face, decorated with that usually wide smile that emphasized his dimples, eyes squinting in glee when yours finally meet his. Candidness and benevolence lacing his voice.

“Yes, you would have won, Y/n.”

That was enough footing for Ollie to shoo both of you away, promising to take care of your grandparents while you had fun. Your attempts at protest are futile, your grandparents helping Ollie in his mission. Buying the three something to eat in the process before parting ways, promising it’ll be fast.

It’s not fast, it’s a brisk walk that both you and Jaehyun enjoy. Struggling to not lose each other within the masses going opposite or in the same direction. He jokes about feeling like a meerkat in a sea of gazelles, you laugh but he’s sure you don’t find it funny. At least he’s glad you humor him.

You entertain him through food. Buying tornado potatoes, plain and simple. He mentions having eaten these when he lived in Connecticut. You ask him about the state and what it’s like, you’re not too thrilled nor believe him when he says it’s boring. As an attempt to remove the connection, you drizzle hot sauce on one half of the potatoes. Scared but willing to try it, Jaehyun lets you feed him the first broken off bit. It’s enjoyable at first, soon his face blends with the lights behind him. Red and bright as he begins to cough. Now he will only think of this when it comes to the snack.

You both laugh at it, as an apology you buy him a drink. A piña colada for him and a michelada for you, it should work enough to ease both of your bashfulness. He couldn’t eat anything from the drizzled side, leaving those for you whilst he munched on the dry. Giving you sips here and there from his drink to cool down the fire in your mouth. He teases you for choosing a spicy drink when you’re eating far more spice, receiving him with an eye roll and “You don’t know what life is about.”

Finishing that, he dragged you to a game. You’d like to think he found it far more odd because of the mini stripper animatronics in the center of all the glass bottles but he reassures you the life-size gremlin doll pissing on people was more alluring – and disturbing. It didn’t stop him from attempting to win a decrepit pale Winnie the Pooh bear.

He had spent a good amount of time trying for it, towards the end he required your help. You had been nagging him throughout the entire game to not spend more money on the game, that it was most likely rigged but when it was your turn and managed to burst all bottles, then it became a skill issue.

Jaehyun mopped about it, you figured the bear would bring him comfort. He held it for seconds to soon return it with a bright smile. You try rejecting it, he had been fighting hard for it so it was confusing why he didn’t want it. You thought it had to do with the principle of the winner takes it all; it wasn’t the case.

He confessed he had wanted to get it for you and only felt bummed that he wasn’t able to but that you should keep it irregardless as a token of his appreciation and care for you, to give your Garfield some company. The moment would’ve been sweet if the booth attendant didn’t make that stupid doll spritz it’s faux piss your way, forcing you to flee while cursing him out with laughs in between.

That was the beginning of your journey through halls and carps, stepping out here and there to get on children’s rides that warrant glares from parents. Jaehyun joked about dragging Ollie so he could ride the caterpillar rollercoaster with him and have you take pictures of a father with his kid. Jaehyun is now playing along with the fantasy Ollie has created. You don’t know whether to laugh or let the ache in your heart manifest.

You end at the ferris wheel only a few feet away. In the process of calming each other’s laughter, the noises of people and music filled the silence. Comforting as the day you met, walking through the market and buying produce for that day’s meal. It makes Jaehyun think about how far you two have gone. How one little incident with a cactus has led to having the time of your lives nearing the highest point of the ride.

You’ve felt the warmth and softness of his touch. Felt his care and appreciation through every little act yet you yearn and crave for more from him. Your body and soul know there is more both can offer, although frightened that you’ve misinterpreted his lingering gazes and gestures.

“When I was younger my mom had decided that we would spend every summer with my grandparents and aunt. I hadn’t been here since I was five for her grandpa’s funeral so it meant nothing the first few weeks. The first year, even.”

Jaehyun turns, intrigued. “Then when my mom would make the long distance calls and send letters, my grandpa would joke around how I didn’t want to visit them at all – that I hated it here, similar to how he does with you. I didn’t hate it, I think I just wasn’t familiar with the lifestyle in comparison to back home where I don’t have to worry about if there’s hot running water.”

His hand inches closer to you. “In attempts to prove him wrong, I spent my time here helping him with the animals, going grocery shopping with him and my cousins and it drew me closer to this. After the second summer, we spent Christmas here too and the weather killed me but they seemed so happy that I joined.”

Your laugh comforts him. He thinks about the times he’s attempted to help and failed your grandparents, it only dawns upon him that things take time and he shouldn’t dwell on them too much.

“Then in my last summer of college, I had taken an internship that promised a job right out of college– obviously it was a lie, I’m here.” You laugh bitterly. “I missed time with my family and my grandma ended up in the hospital. I felt so guilty the remainder of the year, even during winter break. I felt like it was my fault, that my absence was the small piece of the puzzle that could ruin it all.”

Jaehyun felt and heard the remorse in your voice, he felt the need to find a way to ease it with no avail, feeling as inutile as when the ram tackled you. It’s imprinted in his brain that no matter what, it will weigh on his shoulders that he’s not able to help no matter how much he tries.

“And I think the universe is funny and cruel enough that when the internship dropped me and said all vacancies were occupied, my aunt was the one to fall ill next. Forcing her back home with her own family. It was its way to make it up to me, as horrible as it sounds.”

You share a sigh, he takes your hand in his, reassuringly. You don't want comfort words, he knows that, he knows this is enough for you. “I think what I first felt when visiting is what you feel now with the exception that you actually have so much to do out there…” Jaehyun’s actions halt, lifting his head to look at your sorrow filled eyes.

He shakes his head, trying to convince himself and you. He clings to the delusion everyone helped create in hopes to be good hosts. He still has time, Jaehyun has time, he wants to believe it so please don’t shatter his joy so quickly, please!

“It’s okay, Jaehyun. You have to publish your book, we’ll always be here for you as they’ve been for me.” He’s not too sure how true that is. Life is never consistent nor forgiving, he’s learnt that in harsh ways. People’s care is conditional and based on time and familiarity, he’s been at the end of that stick.

Your hand takes purchase on his cheek, consoling him for what you have just said. You didn’t intend to cause this but you have to prepare yourself for what you’ve known all along. “I don’t think I want to go back and risk anything.” He mutters, eyes softening the longer he looks at you, the ride feels endless.

“You must… All there is for you here is inspiration.” They’re meant to comfort him but it feels more like you’re trying to convince yourself that you’ll be fine when he leaves. Jaehyun’s lips part ready to speak, words muted by the fireworks going off. Midnight has hit, it’s a brand new day and it’s received with pyrokinetic colors that aim to diffuse the pain he feels.

They illuminate your face, a smile forming in awe of how pretty they look. Not as pretty as you, Jaehyun is sure of that the longer he stares with the same smile on his face you adore. “I’ve found the life I needed all along.” His touch on your cheek brings you back to him, dumbfounded with what he meant. Inquiries answered upon feeling his lips softly land on yours.

Hands softly cradle your face, eyelashes tickling your cheek as you get a taste of him. It’s so soft and tender that you want to be here for the rest of the night, drowning the noises around you. If you’ve felt heaven before, it doesn’t compare to being with him like you are now.

The crowded path didn’t feel claustrophobic, like it was just you two in the sea of booths, fluorescent lights and fireworks. The music drowned, his grasp on you doing its best to keep you with him for whatever time is left for you two.

He hadn’t noticed at what point you both had gone back until Ollie stepped in between you two. “So? Did you like it?” The giddy young boy questions, a bottle of beer in his hand, compliments from his cousin – your grandparents with their own as well, watching. Jaehyun nods, glancing at you. “More than anything.” He smiles widely, hypnotizing dimples present.

Ollie giggles, a chant as he jumps near your grandparents telling them something that neither of you manage to hear, distracted by the shocking ice-cold bottle shoved into your hands. Your grandfather had been talking to your grandmother, both laughing about judgments thrown at people around them. Mean, yes, but it’s not often that they bond about things anymore.

The elder’s leg had been bouncing as they talked, cackling in the process of drowning whatever was left in the bottle. Jaehyun took notice of this, turning to the group playing up on stage a few feet away. People around were dancing, some seemed to enjoy themselves, others not too much – the only thing that mattered was the ambient and showing face.

Jaehyun approaches your grandpa, asking if he was having a good time. The older of the two nodded, responding by showing the new bottle Ollie handed him. You scold both of them to not drink too much but they shush you. “It’s a party, Y/n. Liven up.” Ollie laughs, alcohol having gotten into his stream, demonstrated on how clumsily he clinks his bottle with yours and everyone else's. “Come on, let’s dance instead.” Pulling you in for a quick little shuffle. He’s not a great dancer, he knows it. He also knows his joy brings joy to your grandparents and you’ll do anything for them to maintain it.

You entertain Ollie, dancing despite him having already stepped on you multiple times. Apologizing with whines and puppy eyes that make you laugh. You push him off after a while, helping your grandfather up so he could dance with you. He’s overjoyed, finally having the opportunity to do what he loves so much, a pity your grandmother is the opposite. She’s content enough with just watching.

Jaehyun smiles, laughing in glee at how the ambient fuels his emotions. His own body swaying ever so slightly, brain trying to formulate how to dance to music he’s never heard. He thinks he gets it, it doesn’t seem too hard but he could be proven wrong and become Ollie’s mirror.

Your grandmother, ever so insightful, watches with a glint of content with how well he has adapted to the culture. Although, far more interested in the way his eyes don’t leave you. His ears are red, brighter than the light illuminating the stage and the municipal office. Jaehyun may try to hide how he feels, you may try, but she’s older and wiser. She’ll always know when love is around.

“Go ask her for a dance.” She elbows him to catch his attention, Jaehyun had been holding your grandfather’s seat. The mention alone caused his ears to brighten, crimson migrating to his face. He tries not to smile, it so happens to be that his muscles are treacherous and they emphasize the lines of his smile, deepening those dimples you love.

Jaehyun shakes his head. Convince her that it’s okay, that he would rather watch, something she won’t allow. “Don’t coward away. When’s the next time you’ll get the chance?” Jaehyun ignores the heavy meaning of her words, he prefers to ignore the reality that slowly creeps in. Regardless, he nods, taking in the other point of view. He thanks her with a smile, standing up to walk towards you. Sacks of nervousness weighing him down, making his hands sweat.

“Mind if I take her from you?” Jaehyun clears his throat, head tilting, pleading. The older man cackles, pure and utter joy that Jaehyun has made a move. Frantically he nods, agreeing by pushing you towards the brunette who seems just as ecstatic as your grandfather. Given persimmon, Jaehyun takes your hand in his. Awkwardly figuring out how else he should position himself.

You watch amusedly, hiding your smile by pressing your lips together as if your cheeks and eyes were not a dead giveaway. “What makes you think I wanted to dance with you?” You tease, correcting where his hands and feet should go. The smile you try hard to hide slowly creeps in. Jaehyun doesn’t mind exposing his own, giggling when you begin to lead. “What’s this then?” He plays along, moving his feet and knees according to what he had examined. Raising your shoulders in a shrug, you don’t hold back your smile, a giggle following. “A lesson.”

The dance doesn’t go smoothly, you have to teach him between laughs, both yours and his with your family’s in the background but he manages. Even if you all think his dancing is horrible, as bad as Ollie’s, the younger one takes the opportunity to capture you two dancing with Jaehyun’s camera. If there’s something to remember, it is this night and the love that has finally come into fruition.

The flash blinds you, stopping you two from dancing and even though Ollie whines for you two to continue, you both claim your feet ache. It’s not a lie on your end but the coyness from your family seeing you with a potential partner is a bigger deal.

It’s past two in the morning, obvious in the way your grandparents hide their yawns from your view, hoping to not ruin your night further. “Want to go home?” You walk towards them, a hand on your hip and genuine concern on your face. They admit they are tired but don’t want to go home no matter how much you insist. Ollie offers to drive them home while you and Jaehyun stay back longer but you’ve been away from them this entire night that you cannot fathom the idea any longer.

Ollie and your grandparents can try to convince you with the same story about Jaehyun’s limited time but that wasn’t going to work now. No, you stick to your guns and manage to get them in the car. Ollie had drank far more than all of you so he wasn’t apt to drive, instead Jaehyun volunteered, something that had excited your grandfather the most.

After removing the cinder blocks and putting them back in the trunk, Ollie walks towards your window, bidding everyone goodnight. You nag him, worried that he was drinking too much. He receives you with an “Okay, mom!”, the same phrase he’s been throwing around ever since Jaehyun had reached a month’s stay. It managed to get a laugh out of your grandparents, even from you and Jaehyun but it didn’t change that you still lightly swat his hand. “I’m serious, Ollie. Don’t drink anymore, stay back a bit but not too late, Okay?”

The worry in your eyes makes him relent, nodding before kissing your cheek goodnight and shaking Jaehyun’s hand. The interaction forced a smile on his face, every single aspect of your tenderness making him melt more.

As the moon is his witness, Jaehyun has fallen in love with this village and you. Gracious the stars are that once you manage to get your grandparents in bed and meet Jaehyun in the kitchen, the two of you quietly make your way outside with nothing but moonlight to illuminate you.

“Want some coffee?” You ask, fingers familiarizing themselves with the texture of those yellow walls. “Do you not want to sleep?” He laughs, taking those same fingers to familiarize with the tenderness of his lips. The action makes your breath hitch.

“Perhaps…”

His eyes meet yours, inching closer to capture your lips in another tender kiss. His hands find purchase on your waist, your arms wrap around his shoulders. It’s sweet and soft, his tongue managing to slip in your mouth to waltz with your own. The soft muscle forces a delighted sigh, one that he swallows graciously.

When neither can hold it for much longer, you separate, smiling like two fools. “So no coffee, then?” You laugh, one he reciprocates with a nod. “Too bitter, not as sweet as you.” The flirtatious remark is received with a laugh.

“You’re so cheesy.” You claim. “It’s worth it if it makes you laugh – it’s what I like to hear everyday.”

Jaehyun’s expression is serious, the adoration in his eyes letting you know how he feels. He may not pin a word to it but you can see his yearning and longing. You try to be in the same cloud he is in, to ignore the dooming reality but you can’t. You appreciate his affection and you reciprocate it but you also don’t want to become delusional.

“Jaehyun…” Your head drops, avoiding his look. He thinks he’s done something wrong and it aches horribly. “Yeah?” He squeaks meekly, head moving in hopes to see your eyes, to understand how the atmosphere became so somber. “How serious are you about this? You know how things are an–”

“Don’t… Please don’t bring that up.” He begs, eyes shutting, no longer in need to understand what you meant. “You can’t act like you don’t have a life outside of here. You may stay all you want but eventually you will go back – there’s more to life than this for you.” Your head lifts, vulnerability not as heavy as his.

He tries to drown out your words, this night has gone too well for things to fall off already. He doesn’t want it to be bittersweet. Sure he can stay all he wants until it’s time to publish his book but he will come back so why are you being so cruel to him?

“Nothing compares to this, Y/n.” He holds your hands, hoping his warmth lets you know how much you’re hurting him but also how much he loves you. You shake your head, a small smile of unbelievability. “You’ve been here for three months, that’s still fine and dandy. It’s not like truly living here.”

His eyebrows furrow, refusing to listen. “But you still love it here. I don’t know what you’re trying to get at.” His voice quivers, frightened that this is your way of ripping his heart out.

You sigh, squeezing his hands. “I do, I love it but I also think that I’ve been looking at this place through the same glasses you’re looking through. What I’m getting at is that, in the long run you’ll get bored, everyone I know has and they’ve left… Who knows, maybe even Ollie will leave and it’ll leave me here because no matter how hard I try to make a life out there, it doesn’t love me back.”

Jaehyun was perplexed, eyes scanning your face. He knows you’re projecting, that you don’t want to get attached despite already having done so, he hopes you could see inside him to understand that he doesn’t ever want to leave. He doesn’t want to leave you.

His hands cradle your face, kissing your eyelids, cheeks, nose, and lips for reassurance. “I can always come back. After publishing whatever I have in hand, I will always come back. You are the life that I needed all along, Y/n.” His whisper is heavy and sincere, the glimmer in both your eyes, evidence to what both feel.

Words don’t describe what you two feel, no matter how heavy they hang on your tongues. No, it’s best that you share it in another tender kiss that the stars and moon witness. Both end the conversation, convinced that the love you two port is stronger than the universe’s will.

Quick glances and kisses are stolen for the following weeks, everyone knows what both feel but it’s more exciting if you pretend as if this love is forbidden despite the encouragement and approval of your family. Ollie teases you two about the brewing romance, pretending to act like he didn’t say anything regarding it when you correct him that nothing is happening. It’s like a game for all of you, one that you all indulge in for the sake of excitement.

You had all agreed upon visiting a thermal spring this morning, the drive was somewhat long and it was best to arrive before other people did. Ollie was the most excited about it, he had begged his family to let him go for days until they agreed. It just so happens to be that the universe doesn’t often like to see him happy; you don’t appreciate that.

Ollie had arrived with a glum look on his face, saddened eyes when he sat in his usual seat next to the chimney. Jaehyun approached him with a cup of hot chocolate and a pat to his head. Your grandma didn’t take long to question the reason behind his state but he only sighed.

“They moved the pension collection to today. The offices will be closed until next month for remodeling so you two have to go in before the line gets long.” His lip juts out, looking at everyone with puppy eyes.

You ruffle his hair, rubbing his back comfortingly. “We can go tomorrow, Ollie. Don’t worry…” You mimic his pout, his head rests on your hip, pressure tickling your hip bone. “No… Dad is taking me with him out of town for a few weeks to help with the ranch that hired him.” He doesn’t dare look at anyone. It’s not the first time he was taken to different places in the country but when they came back his dad usually kept Ollie locked in for a while until he became unbearable to keep in. It’s as if he relishes in your joint misery.

Jaehyun throws you a look, looking for ways to solve this crisis. He knows you don’t like the news, he hates them too. He’s grown so fond of Ollie that knowing he’s the first to go is causing a small turmoil in his chest. Sure, he may be back and Jaehyun will still be here but one never knows how things may turn out.

“What if you and Jaehyun go? I have to take my grandparents for their pension so you two enjoy.” Ollie wishes things were that easy but his childish intuition fears that time is coming short and if you don’t spend more time with Jaehyun, he’ll feel guilty for whatever ending comes.

Ollie shakes his head, standing up. “No, it’s fine. You and him go. I’m going to take my dad anyway so I can take them too.” He attempts to smile even if he can’t. It dawns upon you that missing the trip isn’t his concern but not seeing any of you for God knows how long is what’s killing him.

You try to deny, shake your head in protest. Jaehyun does so as well, it’s not that he doesn’t want time alone with you but knowing this is his last day with Ollie for a while is killing him. Your grandparents hadn’t said anything up until this point. They weren’t fond of swimming, they never did.

“Ollie is right, you two go.” Your grandmother spoke, standing to grab her purse. “I can’t leave you two, what if you need help?” You attempt and they protest, your grandfather jumping in by throwing in Jaehyun’s limited time. It seems they’re all far more in tune with reality than you two.

You don’t know how or when but they managed to convince you and Jaehyun to go. Both attempted to protest and cancel the trip all together but here you were, in your grandfather’s old and chipped red ford. The seats torn apart, a blanket hiding away its imperfections. The red leather of the dashboard hot under Jaehyun’s touch, its form of showing that you two being left alone was real.

That now you didn’t have to talk through a window in the bathroom to spend some alone time. You didn’t have to climb on the sink and hit your head on the roof just to see his face through the mangled chicken wire and be received by concrete flakes on your lips and eyelashes whenever you attempt to kiss through it. No, here you were able to hold hands and kiss without fear of being caught (even if it didn’t matter – everyone knew).

The roads were messy and bumpy, dirt flew all around which forced you to keep the windows rolled-up despite the sun’s rays being hotter than the actual weather. Worse off is that once he came out of the truck, a gust of cold breeze rained upon him. Showing him everything he had missed while struggling with heat and keeping dust out of your airways.

It was a reward but also mockery, to him at least because you remained unphased, rejoicing on how lonely it was. “Reckon everyone is getting their pension, too?” You ask, hands on your hips, ripping some overgrown grass by your feet to make sure no venomous critters are around.

Jaehyun shrugs, letting his focus remain on his surroundings. It was amazing for him to see how deserted and destroyed this place was. Overgrown yellowing grass that stray cattle eat, ruins of houses from colonial towns signaling the fleeing of whoever had inhabited them before; your grandfather had later explained that the location was a town destroyed in the process of gaining independence.

What was prettier to him was the body of water he was here for. Multiple trees around, so green and alive in comparison to the remaining vegetation. The water is so clear and warm that he could see the steam rise the closer he got.

“Like it?” You question, to his side with towels on your shoulders. Jaehyun’s head whips, a smile on his face upon reaching for your hand, “It’s beautiful.” His fingers interlace with yours, camera in hand positioning it an arms length away when he takes the initiative to lean down and kiss you, capturing it all on film.

You shove him playfully, rushing to a dry rock where you can leave your possessions. He chases after you, removing his shirt and unbuttoning his pants. Your instinct to look away is something he does not miss and it causes a blush to creep up on his face.

He takes in the temperature of the water with his feet. Jumping back when he realizes it’s hotter than what he’s experiencing right now. “It’s not that bad.” You call out, pulling down on the bottoms of your dress swimsuit. Your smile softly falters when he doesn’t respond, rather his attention is set on how pretty you look.

The trees sway, leaving empty slots for the sunrays to seep through, illuminating you. Seemingly purposely done, to put you on a pedestal for him to look at with nothing else but admiration. That blush he had earlier rose again, one he’ll pretend is due to the water’s temperature.

“What are you looking at?” You tease, smile back on. Jaehyun approaches you with a shrug, shirt unbuttoned halfway. His fingers thread over the fabric of the straps, such a pretty lace decorated with satin red ribbon forming a bow at the front. “You.” He smiles, warm fingers touching your arms in hopes to feel closer than he already is in all senses. You don’t respond but he’s aware that the look you give him is fond.

Your hands mimic his, finding their way to his shirt and helping him undo the last few buttons, pushing off the linen to free his flesh and let it be kissed by the breeze – something you can only wish for. Once off you toss it to the pile of clothes and towels, cocking your head for him to follow you into the water. It’s glistening and steaming, soothing once his feet acclimate.

Silent sounds escape both, little by little submerging yourselves – your hands not letting go in any instance. “My mom and aunt loved to come here. They’re hypochondriacs – at least my mom is– always claiming a trip here was healing, holistic. Forcing my grandparents to put their feet in at least so the warmth would take away any aches.” Jaehyun could see how your free hand rubbed at your knees, mimicking their action.

“Pretty sure they take from my grandma but my grandpa was more of a people pleaser so he’d tell them he felt much better just so they wouldn’t feel bad. I don’t really see how this can take away all your aches. I get that it can help temporarily but not permanently.” Your shrug and words may tell him so but Jaehyun can tell that your vigorous rubbing at your own joints was a form of subconsciously believing them.

“Maybe… It seems like a mutual interaction of comfort and understanding. Your mom and aunt try their best for their parents to feel better about their bodies wearing down and in turn they receive praise and appreciation from them.”

Your hand stops its action, looking up at him with a hum. “I guess so.” You mutter, letting go of him to float on your back. “The writer in you just had to make it so philosophical.” he can hear the smile on your lips, your feet playfully kicking some water onto him to which he laughs, responding by splashing you too. Calling a truce when he was winning this battle.

As a way to comfort, he pulls you in for a hug. Your back to his chest, head resting on his shoulder and holding onto a railing to not float away far deeper. If it was for Jaehyun, he’d love to stay like this until it was time to go. For once in this entire trip you two have been truly left alone. No more sneaking kisses and late night talks through the bathroom window. It was just you and him an hour away from civilization with only the cattle as witness to the love you two didn’t speak about but embraced.

There is nothing more Jaehyun wants than to have more time with you. He wonders if things would have been different if he had fallen for you much earlier or if you had. He’s not fully sure how much you love him, he knows you’re stuck on him leaving sometime in the future which is what hinders this from going forward but he truly wishes you could see that he has no intent on leaving soon or for too long.

What if he had helped you clean the pen earlier? That would have meant spending more time with you and more outings with your family, surely. On the other hand, what if he had been useful enough during planting? It’s evident he would have never gotten close to you beside cordiality in the mornings and afternoons for meals and trips to the market.

Jaehyun cannot think of a world where this trip would result in you two not becoming closer. He can’t fathom not getting to know and falling in love with you.

Sensing his pensiveness, you turn your head, looking up at him with a questioning look that he could only interpret as trying to read his mind. He’s noticed that quirk, the way your head tilts and your lips quiver in a way to mutter a “hm” without voicing it. He makes sure to receive it with a smile, leaning in to peck your lips that surely help you abandon your actions.

“It’s a bummer Ollie didn’t come.” He attempts to distract. “Would have been nice seeing him have some fun before leaving.” There’s more to what he had said. Jaehyun wanted to add ‘before I leave’ into his sentence, it’s hanging on his tongue despite how much his brain and heart attempt to keep him wrapped around his delusion of perpetual happiness.

“I think so too.” your body twists within his arms, facing him. “I was thinking of making his favorite meal for dinner once we get back. His dad always returns him skinnier and paler than how he leaves, I need him to keep his cheeks plump, don’t you think?” Your exclamation forces a chuckle out of him, nodding in response.

“Help me find a gift for him too, then?” “Don’t spoil him too much, he’ll be an even bigger pain than he already is.” “Oh come on, don’t be so mean to the kid. Let me, please…” Jesus, if anyone was to hear you two they’d think you’re talking about a child and not a nineteen year old. But that’s what Ollie is to you both. A child you saw as yours or your brother that Jaehyun would spoil while you scold him no matter how much you loved him. You’d reckon Ollie’s presence kept you sane even if he often teased you but his nature was enough to bring entertainment for you and joy for your grandparents. If Jaehyun looks back at it, Ollie reminds him of the young boy he met in that taxi on the way to that village.

Reluctantly (faking so) you agree, rolling your eyes before pushing him off to swim away from him. He doesn’t stay too behind, chasing you for what feels like forever. Overworking your body for hours in such a hot body of water had rendered exhausting for both to the point that you basically had to drag each other out of the water just to lay on the cool metal ramp, gasping for air acclimation to avoid fainting. Jaehyun was far more concerned with you when he didn’t hear you speaking nor felt you moving, calming when you stick your tongue out at him for his nosiness although all you wanted was to see him smile.

“You complain about Ollie but it seems like the real brat here is you!” He exclaims, gaining momentum to swing his legs onto both sides of you. “Cry about it.” You mutter, a smile on your face; his hair hangs off, fuzzy around his eyes and dripping onto your cheeks. “Or… maybe I should do something to correct it.” His hair tickles your face, sticking to your cheeks the more his lips linger on them, testing the waters.

He relents when your arms wrap around his shoulders, leaving him flush over your body with nothing left but your lips to connect. They’re cold and pillowy, soft against your own just like his hands when they find purchase on your waist, holding you near as if the spring water below you will drag you out of his grasp, the last thing he needs.

Jaehyun is gentle in the way he holds and kisses you. His hands knead your skin, warming against it the more they roam around to hold you closer. Your fingers thread through his hair, sending shivers down his spine that causes him to sigh into the kiss, enough for your tongue to slip through and deepen the kiss. The intensity rose, his hands felt much hotter against your skin the lower they went, scalding when one of them grips your upper thigh –avoiding the bruising from whitey’s assault– helping it raise to rest on his hip.

Tongues mingle amongst each other, the taste of the mango juice he drank earlier still coating it to which you enjoy against your own. The thin film of saliva on both of your lips helps them slot smoothly in a far more pleasant kiss. Jaehyun’s fingers knew how to tease you, tips tickling your inner thigh that forced small groans which begged him for more.

More, more, more – Jaehyun would have given you everything if it wasn’t for the faint sound of music blaring and tires pushing dirt through Cattle began mooing, warning you of company joining, spoiling whatever comfort you two had.

You scramble to grab the towels, Jaehyun helps you, drying you off with his own and taking the remaining items under his arm to help you towards the truck, staying guard while you change into dry clothes coming in when you knock against the window. He doesn’t bother changing, claiming the air will dry him well enough upon.

You cross paths with the incoming truck, nodding your heads in acknowledgment before embarking on another long ride. Small talk made here and there, he speaks about how much this road reminds him of Western America: dry vegetation and barely any trees insight but with lively mountains that shield anyone from the sun. You tell him that it seems interesting how he describes that part while detesting Connecticut but he laughs and shrugs.

It’s not long until you stop at a gas station, the truck nearly empty and he still had to change into some dry clothes. He met you inside, walking through the aisles in search of a snack for whatever was left of the ride.

Jaehyun doesn’t share your sentiment. He finds himself distracted by a corner of toys, a bright red truck similar to the one you’re transporting through catching his eye. It glimmers under the sun rays that make way through the window panels. Jaehyun thinks it would be a good gift for Ollie, a menial one for now.

Paying for the items and heading outside with you hand in hand, Jaehyun recalls seeing a photobooth by the bathrooms. He pulls you along with no response to your questions, motioning with his head for you to push through the red velvet curtain. The first image is neutral enough, smiling while looking directly at the mirror, the flash comes in and you two hold each other. By the last two flashes it resulted in engraving the image of you two kissing.

You laugh at him for sneaking in a kiss and having it on film, he shrugs you off knowing that it was an image he’d like to see at all times and he’s hopeful you do too. You still needed to wait for at least four minutes for the film strips to develop, leading Jaehyun to slot in more coins claiming he wanted Ollie to have something to remind the young boy of the two.

Jaehyun truly wanted to say that he hoped Ollie wouldn’t forget that the two loved him. He hoped a flimsy piece of paper was enough of comfort to Ollie as they will be to him.

Pulling out a pocketbook rushedly, Jaehyun manages to scribble his support and appreciation for the young boy. That’s an image of himself alone, handing it to you to scribble something quick before the flash goes off again. The last two flashes are paraded with you two making faces you often made towards him – sticking your tongue out or scrunching your nose, the latter his favorite one.

“Good luck in your journey, you’ve done so well these past months!” “Ollie! Remember to eat all your meals and no buddy-budding with any louse. You’re a good boy!” “Fighting our lovely, Ollie!” Compliments of Jaehyun. “We love you, Ollie. More than you think.” Now that comes from the bottom of both of your hearts.

Jaehyun bought a jacket for Ollie once back in the village while grocery shopping at the market for the voyage dinner. For the first time since he arrived you had trusted him to navigate the village on his own. The everyday route was engraved onto his brain, finding you shortly with the jacket in a wrapped box. You wanted to see it but he told you you’d have to wait until Ollie opens it, he didn’t want to re-wrap this himself.

Your grandparents and Ollie didn’t arrive until a few hours later when everything was set up already. Jaehyun arranged the table outside with a fine china that belonged to you, not the one in the cabinet. He had attempted to help you in the kitchen but backed off when he saw your eye twitch the second he mixed a pot on the stove. There he learnt that getting in your way while cooking wasn’t a good idea so he instead went to feed the pen animals and loiter around to write the letter he’d give the young boy with his gifts.

Ollie could have sworn this was a delayed birthday party. Jaehyun had arrived a week after Ollie turned nineteen, missing any form of celebration. Now he was complete, this had to be a form of celebration and not a voyage dinner, it just had to. Otherwise why would he be crying at the dinner table?

Ollie would like to think his tears represented the impending doom you were all to face one way or another with his absence. Both figuratively and and literally; comically and realistically.

The hands on his back and shoulders try their best to comfort him, whispers of how this was yet another trip meant to minimize the meaning of this but Ollie knew something was wrong, something none of you did just yet. He smiled widely, tears streaming down his face, laughing in order to control himself but your gentle wiping and hugs made him fall deeper into that feeling. His childish intuition as you all call it.

Jaehyun on the other hand decides to pull out his gifts in hopes it would help but it only made Ollie cry harder. The younger spews his thank you’s, hugging Jaehyun for comfort to which the older one takes, his own heart filling with such an aching pulsation. He ignores it, it doesn’t matter what he’s feeling, he wants Ollie to take a good look and remember him in a bright light.

Ollie wore the jacket all night and took it on his trip – along the letter–, never letting anyone touch it. He left the truck with you and your grandparents, he knew it’d be far more safe with you than with his brothers.

The dinner didn’t spoil after his crying fit. Your grandmother had playfully scolded him to get a grip while your grandfather helped him with a shot of liquor. It progressed onto serving them all dinner, Jaehyun helping you throughout all steps while your grandpa complained about the long lines for their pension and all the old people as if he wasn’t one of them. Your grandmother only backed him up a few times, rebutting his claims in others just for the sake of arguing which caused laughs to leave everyone.

It wasn’t anything new, Jaehyun had grown accustomed to their conversations. They may argue right now but other times the tone of their voices sounded harsh when all they were doing was conversing, as peaceful as they knew how. He wonders if this will ever be you two although he’s not sure he could raise his voice at you or vice versa.

Night had fallen faster than any of you would have wanted. Usually Ollie would leave whenever he pleased and no one would bat an eye but in the past hour his father had called nearly ten times and it was bothering your grandparents. You and Jaehyun too but not as much as the elders since they were the ones inside. Your grandmother had been yelling from her bed to tell Ollie his dick of a father was on the line again, in fact by the fifth call no one answered, they just knew.

So when the tenth call had rung, Ollie who had been helping you put away the left overs answered angrily telling his father to fuck off and that he’d be on the way soon, received with some scolding from him that he didn’t finish spewing from how fast Ollie hung up. It didn’t mean your scolding wasn’t on the way with how piercing your glare was.

Like a kicked sad puppy, Ollie goes to you in hopes his affection would soften the blow. “That’s not how I’ve raised you, Oliver! Your dad may be a deadbeat but you still shouldn’t talk to him like that – at least in our presence!” Your fingers nip his earlobe, a yelp leaving his bitten lips and a grunt to follow.

“You know my grandparents don’t like when you talk back so don’t do it again when they’re around, okay?” You say, a hand on your hip like a mother scolding her child. That’s essentially how you saw him and how he saw you.

“So I can talk back in front of you?” A cheeky smile received with a soft pinch to his ear. “No!” Your smile betrayed your words. He giggles at the reaction he got out of you, twisting out of your grasp to take you into a hug.

“I really wish you would just enjoy the present and the time you have with Jaehyun without dwelling on how long or how little he has left here. Enjoy the love he’s giving you and return yours, he needs it too, Y/n. For what is left...”

He sighs, holding you in a firmer grasp. Words don’t quite describe what you want to answer with but you knew he was right despite your initial hostility.

You kiss his cheek, nodding as a response. He mimics your actions before waving and heading over to your grandparents to bid his goodbyes before leaving through the middle room.

Jaehyun doesn’t know why he disappeared after dessert. Perhaps he didn’t want to face Ollie when he left and had to say goodbye, he wasn’t good with those. So here he was, on the roof next to the water tank, filling it up as an excuse to why he was so detached from everyone else. It didn’t matter though, Ollie had found him immediately that when Jaehyun heard the clanking of boots he gifted the boy against the rusted ladder, he felt dread.

He pretended to be people watching, seeing how a guy on the right side cleaned his car (it is meant to rain tomorrow or overnight). In the front, a woman bathes her dogs within the vicinity of her patio, the dog shaking and getting the water all over her. On the dirt filled path, children rode their bicycles, going around any ditches and potholes that would make them fall.

Ollie joins him, standing besides, focusing far more on how the sun was setting. He allows Jaehyun to speak first but frowns when he doesn’t; the faint sound of the phone ringing again makes him shut his eyes.

“Thank you for the gifts, you’ve done far more for me than my own dad.” He bitterly chuckles. Jaehyun turns to him, a small grin on his face that falls when the younger one speaks again.

“You’re avoiding me.” “No.”

His voice wavers, eyes trying to show Ollie he wasn’t. Ollie chuckles again, shaking his head.

“I get it, don’t worry. I don’t want to say bye either.” “I don’t want to say bye.”

Ollie nods, looking at the sights Jaehyun had looked upon. The car was clean despite the sprinkling, a child had missed a bump and fell, and the dog was laying back on dirt.

“Jaehyun, it does mean a lot to me what you’ve done these months. You kind of suck with labor and all but you’ve been of great help.” He laughs, hoping his teasing jab will ease the tension. Jaehyun rolls his eyes, hitting the back of his head softly with a silent laugh. “I’m serious though, you’ve been of great help to Y/n, it’s not easy dealing with the house work and being a caretaker. I think you’ve helped liven her up more. I’m glad you’re able to think about your present with her. I hope it doesn’t change, you make her happy and we like seeing her this way.” Ollie sighs looking at his watch, the sun has set.

“I hope you’re still here by the time I come back home–” He laughs, cutting himself off. “It’s not even my home.”

“I’ve never felt more at home than here, I understand.”

Ollie smiles at his claims, he nods with a final sigh. Before going down he gives Jaehyun a final hug and a tight squeeze. The older man mimics his actions to demonstrate his own affection.

Midway down the ladder, Ollie stops and Jaehyun tilts his head. “By the way, this came after you left earlier today.” He pulls out a wrinkled envelope from his back pocket. Immediately recognizing the ivory color and red wax seal, all Jaehyun knows is that he won’t read it any time soon.

“Bye, Jaehyun.” “Bye, Ollie.”

–

Things didn’t go back to normal after Ollie’s departure, no matter how hard everyone pretended that this hadn’t created a rupture into the atmosphere – a breach to the eco. It goes to say that Ollie helped things feel easy and fun, he was the joy you all needed and now he was gone. Things felt mundane again and to Jaehyun this wasn’t a foreign feeling but one he did not want to have here.

A week and a half without him already feels like an eternity. You and Jaehyun wonder if this is what parents feel when their children finally part ways.

On the brightside, his conversation with you helped you ease into what you felt for Jaehyun. Yes, you still sneaked kisses and affectionate touches here and there out of respect for your grandparents but it was so obvious what you two had that the elders didn’t tease you anymore for the glances and blush.

Mail day has arrived and Jaehyun once again has received a letter, one he thinks about throwing onto the pile of drafts he’s written and discarded. The letter Ollie handed him before he left tucked in between those.

He thanks the mailman, putting down the rake he used to pick up fallen leaves. Your grandfather had taught him to put them in a pile to later be burned. He contemplates throwing the letter in, watching the red wax seal spread as it melts. He can't, though, the bold red letters screaming “URGENT!” make themselves present to him.

Jaehyun sighs, shaking his head wondering what it was now as he opens the envelope. Simple greetings, some scolding and questioning, and a plane ticket. What? That was enough for Jaehyun to ignore his nonchalant attitude and let panic take over him. He took the effort to read over the letter closely without missing a detail.

Why the hell would he have a plane ticket?!

‘Dear Jaehyun,

No, scratch that. What the hell is wrong with you? We haven’t heard back from you since that call and you’re not answering the one letter we sent you. We figure and understand you’re having a great time but it does not mean you’re meant to forget your responsibilities back home. Remember how you’re supposed to send drafts? Right, you haven’t done that and given the changes made while you’ve been gone it’s best you get to it!

We miss you so don’t regard this letter as totally reproachful. Please be sure to be here and don’t miss your plane. We’ll make sure to send a fax before you make it to the airport. Till then, enjoy your time and give us a call as soon as you can.

Sincerely, Jude.’

Well this has severed his plans and mood. Was it not enough to have one departure?

30 AUG 87, 17:30 time of departure, one way only. Red bold letters mirroring the ones that caught his attention to read the components of the letter. If he had known it was for this, he would’ve thrown it in the pile of leaves and act clueless if he was to ever receive an emergency call.

His aggravation was noticeable to you the second he stepped inside the vicinity of the patio. His face sunken, something it wasn’t before leaving to clean outside. Not to mention it seemed like he was biting the inside of his cheeks, holding in his breath as a form of repression. You watch carefully, pretending to not have noticed him while cutting sugar canes near his room.

He sees you and he wants to ask something or at least find a way to begin this conversation. He should tell you, no? He should, he knows it but he’s scared and also a coward who waits for you to throw the first stone.

“Something happened?” Jaehyun stops by the step before the kitchen, facing you with a slight shake of head. “Um… does the phone run overseas calls?” It’s your turn to shake your head, firmly unlike him. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.”

He bolts out towards Gabby’s with the ticket inside his pocket, crumbled and wrinkled like the letter Ollie handed him. The older woman seemed to have understood the reason for his visit. The second she saw the familiar face, she pulled that phone she loved so much to the counter along with the catalog and timer, dialing the code before handing it to him. Jaehyun was thankful she didn’t drag it out, he needed answers immediately.

One ring, two rings, “Hello?” Good, rapid enough.

Jaehyun grips the phone, a tight hold that makes his subconscious scared that he’ll pop this heirloom. “I don’t want to go back!” Well, that’s a way to start a conversation.

Hyunjoo laughs, calling Jude over to let him know their golden boy finally contacted them after four months. Jude wasn’t as kind as Hyunjoo, he took the fatherly role seriously and began berating the younger of the three on why he had gone rogue.

“What if something had happened to you? Do you not care for what we feel, Jaehyun. If it wasn’t for this idiot I would’ve sent you letters and even gone to pick you up, so don’t ever pull this on us again! On me, again!” One can only imagine how red he was, up to his receding hairline.

Jaehyun would’ve laughed in the past but now the life he’s built here is soon to crumble and he doesn’t like it. “It doesn’t mean you guys can just force me back! I’ve built something here, I have something going on! I love it here and I don’t want to leave!” He whines, obvious hurt in his wavering voice.

“Yeah, well, whatever you have going on should be finished soon. You know, you only went there for inspiration and to blow some steam off, Yuno. Nothing else, my boy.” If Hyunjoo was there he would pat his cheek reassuringly, unaware of how much Jaehyun hated his little acts of condescension and belittling.

Jaehyun didn’t want to finish what he had here, he wanted to stay forever. He wanted to stay with you, your grandparents, and Ollie. He wanted to be here by the time Ollie came back to greet him with a big hug, a meal, and a trip to the hot spring he wasn’t able to enjoy before leaving. He wanted to build a life with you. Court you properly, date you, travel with you. Even marry you, he doesn’t care how early this is or how late, he wants you and everyone he’s learnt to love these months in his life. Of course his career had to get in between him and his happiness like always.

Jude sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Listen, Jaehyun… There’s nothing we can do, have you read the letter we sent you a few weeks back? That explains it all. Believe me when I say that if it was for me, you could stay there for as long as you want and go back whenever the book is published–”

“That’s the plan.” He interrupts, teeth gritting. Jude and Hyunjoo give each other a look, one that would make Jaehyun feel far more defensive if he could see it. “Jaehyun… things have changed within the publishing house. Go read the letter and we’ll see you Monday, yeah?”

Jude waited for an answer that Jaehyun never gave him. He hung up quite forcibly, receiving a glare from the store owner who muttered the amount. He didn’t stay for his change nor cared for her screams telling him to take it. Jaehyun was in an irritable mood that no one could take away from him today.

Things were definitely not fine. That’s as much as you and your grandpa could decree when Jaehyun crossed the patio straight into his room, closing the door behind him without uttering a word. The elder and you removed kernels in front of his window, under the tree for shade. You could hear him mumble incoherently, his eyebrows furrowing the further he read.

“What bug bit him?” Your grandpa whispers, cocking his head to the open window. You shrug, throwing away the cob into a bucket, fuel for the chimney. “Go ask then.” So persistent and straight to business. “What? No! I’ll wait until he tells me, pa…” But you did want to ask him what was wrong, more than anything. It’s just that your cowardice won’t allow you. The older man rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disappointment while feeding the chickens with fallen kernels.

Time and him can only tell what he’s feeling.

‘Dear Jaehyun,

For starters, we miss you dearly. At least I do but find it in your heart to believe Hyunjoo does so as well. We’ve respected your wishes on not contacting you, even through letters but it’s been over three months and you have yet to let us know how you are doing. Do you not care for mine and your family’s well being? I care for yours, I’ve been restless all these months wondering how you are doing. It’s far too irresponsible to not even contact your own family, Jaehyun.

Is the book in the works? How are the drafts? You know we needed drafts mailed throughout your stay, young man. How is the host treating you? I figure well enough if you haven’t contacted us yet. If not then I’ll see myself forced to call the national guard if I don’t hear from you soon!

Regardless, some updates on how things are going on our end. We’ve been able to fake some notices here and there to the publishing house about yours and the drafts whereabouts. If you must know, if you haven’t figured it out already – which is possible, being in such an isolated village… – Mark is in the process of publishing his next book. His last ones have been a great success and been able to knock some of yours from bestsellers therefore things are becoming harsh around here.

The publishing house wants you back immediately and wants your book ready. Hyunjoo has managed to give you more time before it’s edited and the final print is chosen but the new investors are pushing the house and they are desperate for a contender against Mark’s book. So please, cut your time short and don’t miss your plane! I’ll make sure to send the ticket soon when I’m able to obtain it.

Best regards, Jude.’

Jaehyun doesn’t know what to think. He now understands multiple jobs are on the line but so is his happiness. Even so if he goes and turns in whatever he has – which isn’t enough for even a first draft – what guarantees all of them that it will be published by the time Mark’s is? They can’t just publish some nonsensical thoughts he’s scribbled down for the sake of beating another child protege author.

Mark’s work is far different from Jaehyun’s, he’s youthful in the way he writes, his metaphors are far more enthusiastic and fun. He’s great within young audiences and those seeking to remove themselves from melancholia. He’s everything Jaehyun isn’t and in both their brains, they know they can’t compete for something neither are reaching for.

Matter of fact, that’s not his concern right now. His concern is on how to break the news to you and your family. He’s supposed to leave by the end of this week, what are you going to do in such a short notice? What is he going to do in such short notice? Things were finally starting to align, why must bad things always happen to him– you– both.

One thing is for sure, he has to tell you immediately. But first he’s going to go back to Gabby’s and buy whichever pack of beers and some chips, maybe even some bread in case you feel your blood pressure rise (he’ll eat it, most likely). Arriving there and getting the items, he’s grateful the older woman honored the change he had left, even gifted him a chocolate as she sensed that something was off. Jaehyun thanks her and contemplates on saying goodbye but it’s too soon. Instead he nods and waves on his way back.

He doesn’t have the courage to go past the threshold, opting to sit on the uncomfortable and textured concrete bench by the door of your’s and your grandmother’s bedroom. He hears the loud melodrama of her soap operas and the sewing machine she doesn’t leave alone. Another dress for you, he figures she’s making.

There’s the faint sound of music coming from your grandfather’s car, the one he and Ollie worked on often and that Jaehyun began helping with due to his absence. It pains Jaehyun to know that the elder will once again lose the aid he claims to not want but appreciates wholeheartedly.

His sigh elicits company, or perhaps the pop from the beer bottle had attracted it so here you were, standing by the metal threshold that separated you and him from inside to outside. Your head tilts, looking at him as if trying to read the grievances on his face.

“Misery likes company.”

Your voice makes his head snap, eyes glistening while drowning in the sweetness of your company. He smiles shortly, patting the empty spot to his right, the sun is setting fastly.

He takes your hand into his, kissing the palm and fingers before pulling you in for an embrace. All of this was scaring you the more and more he remained quiet and it only seems like your brain was already processing the inevitable.

“Got a letter from my manager…” “So?”

“My “rival” is putting out a book soon according to them and they want me to send in a draft already for the final print.” His fingers curl at the quotation marks, rolling his eyes at how stupid it all felt. “Ah… well, do you have anything to send then?” He shakes his head, apologies on your face. “We can stay this entire week so you can work on it, how does that sound? Pa doesn’t have to check on the crops any time soon and there isn’t really anywhere else we could go, not anywhere near.”

There’s so much pep in your voice that it hurts to think about how short the remaining days will feel. He has to tell you and he has to tell you now.

“I leave this Sunday, Y/n.” “Oh.”

Jaehyun didn’t mean to say it like this but how else was he meant to? He didn’t want to drag it out longer nor agitate you but he also didn’t want to hurt you and that’s all he can read on your face. Hurt.

Misery does love company.

Your body slumps against the adobe wall, harsh against your backbones. The hand he holds falls limp against his touch and all Jaehyun can do as comfort is kissing it before placing the open bottle in your hand, opening another for himself.

He hadn’t had the time to burn the pile of leaves and the sun was far more foreign by now. That shade of blue coloring his face, an obvious demonstration of his feelings from the past hour. Yet it’s you who takes the initiative to take out the box of matches from the apron you wear, forgetting that you were cooking dinner just to check up on him.

The flame catches fast, rising as you whisper your grievances into it, taking a sip of your drink. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, he tries to take a hold of your hand but he hesitates, fearful that you won’t want it. Instead he throws both letters onto the fire, helping its consumption and anger. At least now you both have let something go.

The morning after, both elders made sure to not ask any favors out of him and let him to his own vices. They understood he’s meant to get his work done so they didn’t want to add stress onto him. But this continued onto the third and fourth day of the week and Jaehyun was aching more and more as his time fell short. He felt just as inutile as his first week, if not more than that week. He also felt his heart ache only having meals to spend with you all but even then he began feeling like the foreigner he was.

Conversations with him were as cordial as before but not as cheery. They asked about his book and what he had ready. They asked if his suitcase was prepared and if he was happy to go back home. Your grandpa did his best to joke around but would soon drop it when he felt his voice tremble. He’s always worn his heart in his sleeve and another one he saw as a son will now leave him again.

Your grandmother on the other hand was the most level headed. She made sure Jaehyun was kept on track with his work and even helped clean his room when he begged her not to tire herself. She’s faced much loss and pain, a stranger leaving wasn’t going to knock her down. If anything, she feels for how you will act once he’s gone.

By dinner time you and your grandfather had bolted out of the kitchen, feeding the animals any leftovers and giving them their own meal. That left him and your grandmother in the kitchen. She was in the process of taking some water from the bucket in the chimney, he did it instead. Pouring it into another container where your grandmother would then add cold water for balance.

She thanked him and told him he should go back to work but Jaehyun didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to be alone, he’s been so for the past three days and it’s corroding his soul. He wants to take away the happy memories, he wants his final days to be fun. He’s begging for you all to not do this to him. He needs contact and affection, he needs it.

“So… you have everything ready?” She tries to converse, passing the soapy sponge over the dirty plates. He nods, rinsing it. “Not excited, I’m guessing.” Jaehyun’s pout is enough of an answer. “Look at it on the brightside. You’ll be able to get it over with and the doors here are always open for you.”

He should know she means it, the problem is that he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. How long will it take for the book to be published? How long will promotions last? What if he’s forced to work on something else straight after? Jesus Christ, he’s not even back yet and he’s already stressing about his reality.

“Yeah?” “Yes.”

Jaehyun smiles at her.

“Will you take care of Y/n for me?” He asks again, putting away the dishes he’s rinsed. She laughs nodding, “She’s taking care of us, I think she’ll manage well.” Jaehyun laughs as well, feeling foolish. “I don’t think you should worry too much about her, Jaehyun. She’s strong and can handle this. As long as you two keep in contact, I believe it will be fine.” She pats his back, leaving a wet hand print that warms his muscles.

He contemplates on taking the advice. Your grandmother has said everything he already knows about you but perhaps he’s projecting his own feelings. He’ll need another source for advice and there’s no one better than your grandfather.

Jaehyun excuses himself, rinsing and drying the few dishes left before walking out to help your grandfather on the car. The older man sat pensive while looking around the vehicle, loud music coming out of it to drown any thoughts.

Hopping on the co-pilot seat, Jaehyun smiles at him, dusting away some stray picked up dust. “It’s looking better now.” He compliments, your grandpa nods, humming with a following hearty laugh. “You’re much better at this than me.” The older one shakes his head, continuing his laughter. “These things take time, you just need to practice more. When you come back I’ll help you with it.” Your grandpa is far more hopeful than the rest of you, that reassures him enough.

“You’ll let me in again?”

“Yes. You make my kids happy and you’ve been of great help even when you didn’t have to.” His laughter subsided, turning into a smile he was struggling to maintain. “It’s a shame you’re leaving so soon.” He hiccups, waterworks on the way. “We’ll miss you, kid. Especially Y/n…” The mention of your name was enough for him to begin his silent sobs, tears beginning to spill.

If there is one thing he can count on is your grandfather expressing what you and your grandmother aren’t able to. Jaehyun sniffles himself, comforting with some rubs to the older’s shoulder before hugging him. Now he knows how appreciated and loved he is and for that he is thankful.

Your grandpa attempts to stop crying, laughing in between to seem like everything was fine. That was always his way of trying to control himself. “You’ll come back, right?” Jaehyun nods, smiling at him while wiping away a stray tear. “As soon as possible. I want a life here.” Your grandfather smiles at him, looking straight to where his headlights shine.

“I’m not from here either. I was born and raised in a city an hour or two from here– you’ve been there, that’s where the airport is.” Jaehyun recalls his first day, the bustling and loud city with historical architecture. It was beautiful, surely, but it doesn’t compare to this village and its own beauty.

“I’ve worked my entire life since I can remember, seven to be specific. By eighteen I found myself here, I was young and my only experience came from the mines and cleaning cars but agriculture is a booming business here so somehow I found my way to a ranch that was hiring to work on machinery. I didn’t know how to work a car let alone a tractor but I was hungry and needed money to send back home. My dad died when I was only three and my mom was left alone with five kids. I had to help her. I lied my way through with the owner and I was young so he took me in.”

Everyone starts somewhere and soon falls in love with the place.

“I stayed at a shack they had built by plots, their own home wasn’t too far so I often went by to ask for a glass of water. That’s when I met Y/n’s grandmother. She’s always been this cold and serious. I would chug the water down and then beg her for more. She would roll her eyes and complain but would always come back with it filled to the brim, ice cold.” He laughs, tears finally gone.

“From then on I kept trying to talk with her even if she pretended to hate it. I’d ask her sisters and sometimes her brothers but it was tricky, I didn’t want them to beat my ass up for thinking about their sister! So, I would have enough with whatever conversations we would have when she brought the workers drinks and food or at dances. One time her own father told me to ask her to dance and since then I never left her alone. With his blessing, then none of her family would interfere and sooner than later I asked her to marry me so here we are, sixty years later and twelve kids.”

“Is this you giving me your blessing to be with Y/n?” Jaehyun half jokes but there’s so much sincerity in his voice that he can’t deny being hopeful. The older man nods and laughs, clasping his back. “As if you needed it… I often went back to my own family but still came back because I love this place and everything it has offered me. Similar to you… I hope your love for Y/n is as strong as mine was years ago. I would hate to see a different fate for you two.”

Jaehyun didn’t know how to respond to that, he truly wished to be back as soon as possible and he would fight tooth and nail to make it possible. Yes, it’s different from him and your grandfather due to the distance but he will make it work because he loves you, he loves you so much that he can’t seem to express it properly.

“Thank you…” “It’s just advice.”

The older man leaves him to his vices and thoughts. With another laugh and a nod bidding him goodnight, he turns the car off, leaving Jaehyun in the dark.

Jaehyun thinks about both conversations all night. He feels a sense of relief knowing he’s had a heart to heart with two of the most important people in your life. It’s good to know they approve of him and the love he has for you. He hopes you’re as understanding and hopeful as your grandparents.

Saturday came as a surprise to him. The roosters weren’t the ones to wake him up, it was your grandpa who excitedly told him to gather all his things. Jaehyun tried to question what was going on but the elder gave him no time. His hearty laugh was enough of an answer, taking the few suitcases he saw in the corner while pushing Jaehyun into the restroom to get ready. He’s not sure what’s going on but he won’t protest, it’s the first time this week that he feels included.

Within half an hour everyone was ready, Jaehyun noticed you too were surprised by the sudden change of plans. You weren’t your usual put-together self and kept yawning resulting in you sleeping throughout the entire car ride. He took this moment to take pictures of the road. Previously he had compared it to his time in West America, he now doesn’t think it’s too comparable. The vegetation is bright and green, most of it coming from incoming crops and lively trees.

Within an hour your grandfather stopped at a town, it was time for breakfast. Both raved about the food despite how spicy it was while you and your grandmother made fun of them. Jaehyun took this chance to take more pictures, candid ones of you and your family with the prettiest decoration in the background. Every memory counts.

Afterwards, you all take a moment to explore the quaint town for a bit, simply so Jaehyun can get some souvenirs. It reminded him of two past towns he’s visited during his time here. One where he had to fight for a seat to be able to eat. Meal which ended up being one of the most disgusting things he’s ever had. He won’t ever tell the rest of you that but you share his sentiment. The second one being where your grandpa struggled to find parking and almost left. He likes that one better.

It’s not to say this town isn’t beautiful, it is. It’s historical, colorful, and calm. Very calm and quiet, something that reminds him of the best village which is where he resided for the past few months. How he loves it there and he’ll hold it to his heart.

Getting his pictures and souvenirs, it was set to take another two hours on the road, only stopping when having to use the restroom which unfortunately due to age is something your grandparents needed often. In those moments Jaehyun would reminisce on the day you two took those photos and bought Ollie’s truck, the one he saw daily perched next to the fine china in the cabinet with a passport picture of him.

“Well here we are, the city I was born in.” Your grandfather’s voice made sure to take away the last bits of drowsiness from you. Your last visit was at fifteen and from the looks of it, nothing had changed. It’s amazing for Jaehyun to tell how different life was between the countryside and the city. The moment you all came to see the skyscrapers and bridges, it felt like a totally different part of the world. It was louder, much more polluted and littered, but for sure not horrendous. Your grandfather made sure to tell him the story of this city like he had done for every village and town visited.

For the majority of the day you all spent it looking around. At the entrance, your grandparents pushed you to ride on the cableway that dropped you off directly downtown. You tried to make them get in it with you both but they excused themselves with being too old and preferring to meet you there with the car. You all knew it was so you and Jaehyun could spend a couple of minutes alone.

“It’s pretty.” “Not as pretty as home.”

Jaehyun smiles at you, taking your hand into his. You return the gesture, squeezing his warm hand in yours.

“Is your city pretty? I’ve heard it is.”

“I’m not talking about where I’ll go back, Y/n. I’m talking about back home. With you, your grandparents, and Ollie.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. Within you and the colorful buildings beneath, Jaehyun is sure to say the view during his time has always been beautiful.

“Do you truly want a life with me?” You shift, close yet with a distance. It was a simple answer, there’s no reason to lie. His smile, dimples, eyes, and even his reddened ears told you he did. Words are preferable though. “Yes.” leaves his rosy lips, kissing you to imprint the confirmation.

Only time will tell how true to his word he is.

You met your grandparents shortly, both bickering about where to reside when night befalls. The topic fell to deaf ears, prefering to explore more about the city. Murals that he wouldn’t forget, traffic as bad as where he resides with the exception that entertainment began the second redlights turn on. Street food that smells delicious and calls his name within every second.

It’s similar yet so distinct from what he has learned to love. It’s clear to him that no matter how familiar you are to one thing, there will always be more to learn about it.

It was near dinner time and within an hour or two from sundown. That forced your grandparents to argue again about the same thing from earlier. This time you two got to learn that your grandfather wanted to rest in his childhood home with his family while your grandmother wanted to avoid that at all costs. She’ll tolerate a visit but won’t give them the benefit of being their host, that’s her role. Not to mention she won’t forget all their wrongdoings towards her and her husband no matter how much the latter attempts to have a happy family.

Words thrown here and there, you all decree to eat out. Both you and your grandmother brought up the time his sister cooked unhygienically that he ended up having a stomach bug for the following three days. He laughs at this and leads you all to your favorite spot, somewhere Jaehyun yearns to taste again for years to come.

You all do end up visiting his family before the sun falls, a quick in and out situation. Jaehyun didn’t pay too much attention to the conversations, he was more entranced with the portraits on the walls and the cracks of chipped paint that told the story of this home.

“Why do you keep looking at the cracks?”

Your voice forces Jaehyun to turn to you, extending his hand to feel your warmth. “Do you think they’re due to poor care or the house growing old with its inhabitants? Your grandpa said he doesn’t recall the ones from this wall.” Your head tilts, looking at them as if you two were in a museum. Perhaps you should take him there tomorrow before his departure.

“Will you write that in your book?” He laughs, taking you into an embrace. “Okay smarty pants how do you word it normally, then?” You return the gesture. “I wouldn’t even think about it for starters, there’s so many back home. Why would I care about this one?”

“I’ve seen how much care you all give the home, there’s barely any cracks. The question is answered for that house.”

“Then… I guess you can find an answer for this one. We’ve been here for an hour or so and there’s plenty more people living here who haven’t greeted them at least.”

You both turn to your grandparents. Grandma sitting silently and aggravated in the corner with a cup of water that she hasn’t touched. Your grandfather enjoys his talk with his sisters despite their spouses talking over and for them. His nephews and nieces, nowhere seen but heard through these same cracks Jaehyun wonders so much about.

Yes, he has his answer. A house without love crumbles faster.

The sun had fallen sooner than expected and with that your grandmother finally found an excuse to leave. The other elders offered to let you all stay with no avail when even your grandfather told them it wasn’t necessary. He knew of a nearby hotel, clean, and hospitable that you could all stay at and his wishes were final.

Immediately as the doors were closed behind your backs, the ruckus of the other four families living there could be heard. It’s clear as day where their intentions laid and why not a single picture of you or your family was on their walls.

When questioning why he denied their offer knowing other times he’d agree immediately, he only muttered a simple: “They didn’t even greet you or Jaehyun. What kind of hosts will they be?” Jaehyun felt a part of the family.

Room distribution went as follows. Your grandfather and Jaehyun would share a room, each with their own bed. Same thing applied to you and your grandmother, a concept you knew too well. This was the first and final night in which you two wouldn’t share a kiss through the bathroom window. You miss it like you’ll miss him.

The following morning isn’t as kind to either of you. The previous day none of you were able to process the severity that it was his final day with all of you. Enamored with what the city offered and the warmth of feeling loved by everyone within the circle, no one felt the harsh reality that is now overcoming you all. There’s ten hours left of his stay.

Silence is the first thing that you all notice, no matter how hard you all try to erase it. Being aware that time is ticking weighs down on your shoulders. Walking through these streets feels slightly surreal. Like a Dali painting, walking through a sea of melting clocks. A torment is what he’d call it.

He manages to get a few more souvenirs, he’s not sure for who or if he’s trying his best to collect every single piece as a memory, he’ll lean towards the latter. Besides, he snags some final gifts for you, your family, and even Ollie, it��s the least he can do besides memories. He’ll be taking those and who knows when he’ll be able to show them to you all.

Within the fifth hour your grandparents rendered themselves tired and tried forcing you two to go on your own. Jaehyun didn’t want that, as much as he loves time with you, he also loves spending time with them. The two have taught him many things, brought many laughs and anecdotes he cherishes dearly.

To be maintained happy, he invites you all to a final dinner. It’s much earlier than usual but he would miss his flight if you’d have to wait till usual hours. Your grandparents attempt to protest, claiming they’re bad hosts if they let him pay but they’re fighting a losing battle and Jaehyun will make sure he can grant them everything before he goes back to reality.

It’s by far enjoyable and it helps him reminisce on all previous meals within those cold adobe walls he loved since day one. It’s dim in the restaurant, recalling the time it rained so hard the streets became rivers and light went out for the remainder of the day. You all ate under candle light while your grandparents told scary stories of the village.

Dinner was the only condition for you to leave your grandparents to rest. With all the heaviness in his heart, Jaehyun fulfilled their wishes. And while you thought it was best to leave them at the hotel, the two continued their stubborn streak and ended up sitting at a park to people-watch. Naturally, they needed live entertainment.

Three and a half hours left, so little time and so much left to do.

You essentially were a tourist just as him, both experiencing new attractions that you only saw in passing the one time you came by. It led to both jumping from museum to museum. National and independent, art and history, for food and tools. It didn’t matter but it filled the empty space and the forced silence helped neither of you spill what flooded your minds.

“I liked the tools museum better.” You retort, almost skipping down the steps to avoid the sun rays. It was much hotter than it ever had been back in town. “Really? I thought the history museum was really nice.” He covers his eyes, rushing to your side. “Nothing Pa hasn’t told you.” He nods, shrugging with a little shimmy to his shoulders.

He looks at his watch and sighs, there isn’t much time left. “Where to next?” His words form a pit in your stomach, forcing yourself to look at the numbers on it. You ignore it, dawning on you that you’ve never spoken in-depth about his job. What’s your thought process when coming up with your books?”

He hums, “For my first books, they were all inspired by cases I heard back home. Where I was born. They’re bleak but there’s still a sense of hope. On top of it I read a lot of Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy growing up so I felt like a cynic comparing both their work, trying my best to create a middle ground that would represent me.” He cocks his head, it’s a bitter taste to him these days.

“Those two lead to my last two. I’m not fond of them, I won’t lie. They’re rushed and robotic, it’s noticeable in the tone but the publishing house wanted something fast and since they sold well, they didn’t care about how I felt, that’s why I’m here now. They wanted this book to be rushed and as miserable as those but I can’t handle writing anything of the sorts anymore. I would’ve ended up like Plath, Hemingway or Dazai if I wrote about how miserable life is once again.”

Jaehyun couldn’t understand if the look on your face was pity or empathy, he didn’t want to see it. “Don’t worry about this one. I’ve found meaning and great inspiration. I’ll dedicate it to you.”

You laugh against his lips, pulling away to kiss his cheek. “How will I know when it’ll come out?” He shrugs, kissing your hand. “I don’t either but I’ll make sure to deliver the copy straight to you.”

“What makes you think I’ll still be here by the time it’s published?”

Jaehyun was under the impression that you’d be here too. Your grandmother had reassured him they would always have their doors and arms open for him but he never thought that meant without you.

“I’ll find my way to you even if I have to go to the end of the world so I can read the token of my adoration for you.”

‘Of my love’ is what he wants to say, hanging on his tongue yet too scared to dive out. You seem to read his mind, kissing him instead to swallow what neither of you can say just yet.

There was still some time left but nothing else worth seeing. Perhaps it was best to gather all your belongings from the hotel, you had the keys to the car and it shouldn’t take you too long. By this point it would be best to waste time at the airport, as dreaded as it is.

Upon arrival time made itself present. The father clock in the lobby allows its ticking to echo through the tiles that you love. The ones in each room weren’t any better. Screaming far louder than the rest that when Jaehyun finished packing his and your grandfather’s bag to make way towards your room, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. Dreadful and painful as the feeling in his heart.

He watched you look through the night stands, making sure your grandmother’s medication wasn’t left behind. He had done the same for your grandfather, his medicine case tucked inside his bag. There’s a forlorn look in his eyes, you don’t miss it when turning to smile at him, comfortingly. You want to ask about it but fear it will consume you as well if you dwell on it.

“Ready?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, joining you on the bed and taking you in a tight embrace. In every sense he wasn’t ready to part ways. You try to laugh it off, kissing his cheek and tightening your grip. Your hands caressing his back to bring some type of comfort but it does the opposite.

Jaehyun can now understand why your grandfather breaks down so easily. The weight of one’s emotions are soon to leave when you allow yourself to be free. That may also explain why he’s always so joyful, he’s free of all his grievances but for Jaehyun it will follow him for eternity if things are not fixed as soon as possible.

“This isn’t the last time, Jaehyun… Please don’t cry.” You cradle his face, wiping away his tears that shine like diamonds under the sun rays peeking in through the window. He hiccups, sniffling to control his sobs. “It doesn’t change how difficult it is to say goodbye.” He pouts, lips so rosy and puffed. You kiss them tenderly for comfort and warmth, it’s the least you could do. Words aren’t your forte and you don’t want him to see how gutted you truly are despite trying to hold a front all this time.

Jaehyun returns the actions of affection, holding you for dear life while kissing you like no tomorrow. Muffled words leave him, incoherent to you yet you swallow them. Like the blood of Christ, you don’t let a blood drop if it means your salvation.

“I-I” He attempts to sound what he wants to say, you don’t allow him. Shaking your head fervently, slipping your tongue in the cavity of his mouth to mute him further. You know what he wants to say but if he does, it will make things far more difficult than they already are.

Jaehyun submits to your cowardice and lets the ticking of the clocks guide him. His hands hold your body near him, pulling you onto his lap to feel you closer. He wants more and so do you, God knows when you’ll meet again.

Fingers threading through his hair, sliding down to his neck, kneading the warm skin you love so much. The actions lead to silent mewls to leave his lips for you to take. You’re so appreciative of the gift that you deepen the kiss, letting his hands roam under your blouse to feel you closer and closer. It’s your turn to gift him a sweet sound that he wishes he could trap into a music box for him to wind and listen to it on repeat daily.

Jaehyun decrees that your blouse is in the way. Too thick and cold, nothing like your skin as he feels now. His large hands take a firm grip of the textile, pulling it off. You’re exposed and he can read what your heart has hidden all this time. Jaehyun prefers to kiss it away, his pillowy lips delicately falling against your chest. Kissing it tenderly to create more of those pretty sounds that hypnotize him.

You hold him while he does, kissing the crown of his head. Granting him what he wants while your hips softly rock against his, friction forcing him to become rougher. A soft gasp leaves your lips when he softly nips the goosebump filled skin, nimble fingers undoing your brazier. One hand covering one while his teeth take your nipple in between them.

“Jaehyun…” It’s all he wanted to hear. His tongue is warm against your tit, kissing it like his life depends on it. Perhaps it does, neither of you are sure but prefer to act like so. You on the other hand work on unbuttoning his shirt, the cool linen doing no justice to the warmth of his skin that you crave. Little by little you both feel closer to each other.

He gently lays you down, between the warmth of your bodies and the sunrays witnessing your farewell ritual, the cold had nothing against you. You watch him, admiring every crevice of his body while pushing off your bottoms, leaving you bare for him to gawk at while unbuttoning his pants.

Your giddy smile teasing him to hurry, giggles reinforcing the sentiment. Taking his shaft in between his warm hands, Jaehyun begins to pump slowly. You attempt to replace his hands with your own which he denies. Your touch will send him overboard without even beginning.

Instead he crawls on the bed and over you, kissing you like he always does. With sweet adoration and love, one you take thankfully. You make sure to cradle his face, his upper body in contact with yours as his fingers thread closer in between your legs. The digits waltz around your inner thighs, reminiscing on the path you and him often took to the plaza and market for your daily shopping trips.

He smiles into the kiss, the memories of all he’s experienced with you consuming him. The position alone brings him to that day at the hot spring where you two began this but never got to go further. The wait was over and he had you here. Caged between his arms, flesh against flesh, warmth radiating and your pretty sounds that he couldn’t get enough of.

Slowly his fingers intrude the cavern between your legs, a gasp leaving your lips that helped him deepen the kiss. His tongue enters your mouth, finding yours immediately to participate in a waltz where the two could share the words that neither of you were strong enough to share. His fingers curl and pump languidly within you. The action is so foreign and long forgotten that you feel like putty beneath him.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, warm breath danced across his skin. Lips perfectly wrapping around the flesh of his red earlobe. He’s so sweet and easy to digest, you wish to swallow him so he never leaves you but you know that can’t be so you will make do with what these few minutes can bring to you.

It’s not far off that he takes his fingers out of you, sticking his tongue out to savor you. Just as sweet as you find him. He moans in delight, rubbing off the dripping essence on his throbbing cock that had earlier been rubbing up against your leg. Jaehyun looks directly at you while pumping himself once again. You no longer look playful but rather hungry and desperate. You needed him like one would need air. Like an addict needs their fix and you fear yours will be taken away from you once you’re both done. The ticking clocks are making it boldly aware.

His eyebrows turn up, eyes softening as if asking if you’re ready. You nod as a response, replacing his hand and continuing his strokes, dragging him downwards slowly in the process. He knew if you touched him he would be thrown overboard, he’s near it but he’ll try to last just for you. And for the sake to excuse being together for longer.

Jaehyun fixed his position above you, nudging your legs minimally to fit between them. He went in slowly, bit by bit. Avoiding any discomfort that he could bring you. You pay him with pleasured moans and kisses to shut yourself up, he graciously takes them.

“I–” he wants to say it, he wants to tell you how much he loves you. This feels like the perfect time. You shot him down again with that sweet smile of yours, shimming your hips to which he responds by beginning his thrusts. They’re gentle and steady, enough to make you feel something that you’re only able to describe through silent mewls. He holds you tightly, pulling one of your legs above his hip. Jaehyun tries everything to feel you closer, he wants to go deeper and deeper to no avail, his thrusts can only go so far and it makes him yearn for the possibility that he could have more of you but so little time and resources to figure it out.

Jaehyun can’t believe this is it. He’s thankful this is the memory of you he’ll take with him, he’ll cherish it with every fiber in him, treasuring it like one would the eucharist. All he could think about was how wonderful you felt and how perfect your body molds to his. If this isn’t a sign that you’re meant for each other then he doesn’t know what is.

He worships you in these moments and will continue to do so when he’s gone. He now understands the feeling devotees feel when finding their God and as sacrilegious as it is, Jaehyun’s mind won’t change. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you…

And most of all you feel his love within you. It manifests itself through tears streaming down your cheek, moans muddled with sobs that he can’t decipher to stop and comfort you or continue his thrusts. You answer for him, begging him to keep going, that you’re so close but he knows there’s more to those words besides lust.

He prods, kissing you, being the one to beg this time to let him know what was wrong but you smile and kiss him along. Leaving a trail of kisses along his jugular and shoulders, hands grasping to his flesh for dear life.

“My sweet girl.. Please tell me what’s wrong? Y/n, I lo–” “I love you, I love you, I love you! I love you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun’s thrusts speed with every repeated word, elated to hear you say what he has wanted to all this time. To hear you spew the words he finally had the courage to let out. For you to hear and engrave in your heart and brain the way he has done so with your own.

He smiles, kissing you with a final thrust. Pulling out to place the proof of his love on your cramping stomach, the pain leaving when you, yourself release. Without a care for the mess, he lays on you, craving your warmth and touch.

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know or understand.” The whisper pollutes the room, kissing you to cement the sentiment. You sigh, kissing the crown of his head, cradling his body against yours. If it was up to you, you would not mind dying like this. With the city’s racket as background noise, your heart palpitating against his ear, and his breathing the anecdote to tranquilize you.

Time wasn’t forgiving, his departure time was coming sooner than ever. Reluctantly, both pull away for a quick shower. It felt surreal how slow time felt when enthralled within the love you both had for each other but when reality hit, it rushed you all through the motion. Picking up your grandparents from the park, driving in silence to the airport while dealing with some traffic and the static of the radio. All of this just to arrive at the airport with minutes to spare and for the universe to not understand the pain you all felt.

It’s surreal how cruel and love can be.

“I guess this is it, huh?” Jaehyun is the first to break the silence, holding back his sobs, the redness of his nose and ears give him away. Your grandfather laughs, nodding as he takes him into a hug in which both men break down in a fit of cries. Your grandmother gives you a look, she wants to say something snarky but her tough exterior proves futile when even she feels a weep stuck in her throat.

“You’ll contact us, right?” Your grandfather wipes his nose, sniffling while smiling warmly at the younger. Jaehyun nods, taking out his pocket book, scribbling his address for you all to send him letters. He doesn’t need yours, he has it saved by memory.

Your grandmother is second in hugging him, slipping in a bill for him to buy something back home. Both know it’s useless where he’ll go but he’ll cherish it as a memory from her just like the box of cigarettes your grandfather had gotten him. He doesn’t smoke but a token of love is a token of love.

The elder woman pats his cheek, smiling at him tenderly. She hopes this isn’t the last time she’ll see him but she more so than anything hopes he doesn’t disappoint you after this departure.

“Take care.”

It leaves you at last. No more to say, no more actions to show. You just hope he comes back to you as promised.

“I’ll miss you.” Your fingers fiddle with the paper in hand, his pretty handwriting hypnotizing you to believe this moment isn’t real.

“I love you.” That’s enough to call your attention. His palm cradles your face and he steals a quick tender kiss. Embarrassment of having done so in front of your grandparents floods you, you only hope they understand which they do.

“I love you too…”

You had all drowned the calling from the greeter at the door earlier on but things had to be done and reluctantly you both let go. Watching him enter that path had taken a piece of you and when he was out of view, your entire body felt like it would crumble.

You tried your darndest to not cry. To not show your grandparents how much his departure was hurting you. Futile is what they would call it, your sobs were becoming louder as your grandfather drove back home, hoping to get there before night caught up to you all.

Nothing good ever comes out of crying. You’ve known this for a while, for you and your grandmother crying only continues to further make you miserable. Not like the relief it brings your grandfather and Jaehyun, that’s something you think you’re both cursed on.

It wasn’t too far on the road that you kept missing him. Regretting not carrying the film strip with pictures of you both to look at him at every moment now. Your only token of his existence came from the piece of paper between your fingers. Flapping around with the harsh air coming in from your grandfather’s rapid driving.

You believe it smells like him, Jaehyun’s soft musk that you love with all your being. It’s even warm from his grasp, and his pretty handwriting taunts you, letting you know it was permanent on it unlike with you. The paper will remember Jaehyun’s actions against it, it has proof, not like you who will rot at the fact that his actions can be erased easily. What’s worse is that the paper continues to torture you, freeing itself from your fingers and flying out of the car at a rate that even if your grandfather stops you won’t catch up to it nor find it.

“No!”

Your words are useless and frightening to be heard from the elders who question what happened. You tell them between sobs, losing all composure. Hunching over yourself to cry against your knees. This was it, you knew it was too good to be true. Your only hope relies on the letter Jaehyun will send you.

Letters that will never arrive.

Questions. There’s plenty of those that have plagued Jaehyun’s mind since he left. He remembers leaving on great terms but as the months progressed his letters were left unanswered. If he had taken in the home phone number or Gabby’s he’d call for them years ago. Instead he found himself at the front door of the place he once called home with a panic rushing through his blood stream but hopeful nostalgia in his heart.

There was a doorbell outside of the patio door, it had been painted orange. Very fluorescent, it reminded him of Gabby’s store. He had passed by it on his way here, buying a few beers like the day he learnt he had to go back. She didn’t remember him and he made no effort to remind her. Some things are better left in the past.

He didn’t hear many animals inside and it worried him, scared of how much change had been done. It took a couple of minutes for the door to be answered. Received by the presence of a kid he didn’t know but seemed to be around three years old.

“Who?” He looks at Jaehyun quizzically, tilting his head like Ollie used to do. “Um… is Mr. and Mrs–” “Don’t open doors, how many times do I have to tell you that!”

Well there’s a voice he recognized. Jaehyun stood up straight, looking up from the kid to the owner of the voice. When both took in the image of the other, Ollie was the first to take Jaehyun into an embrace. So much giddiness and joy in his squeal that he felt like that nineteen year old again. Even his grasp is childish and brute, shaking Jaehyun around. Jaehyun laughs, squeezing Ollie in return.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back! When did you get here?” The patio looked the same. Fewer sheep and goats in the pen, Camila was gone and replaced with a pig. The dogs were strangers to him and the cats seemed to have forgotten him just like the chickens.

Ollie led him to the kitchen, at least that remained the same and he felt comforted by that fact. The two took a seat not far from each other, firewood crackling in the chimney to bring them warmth. Jaehyun handed him a beer bottle, cheering for his return and Ollie’s growth.

“Why didn’t you think I’d return? I promised you all I would.” Jaehyun smiles, wiping away the alcohol residue from his lips. Ollie shrugs, doing the same. “You never kept in contact so after a few months of not getting your letters we lost hope. I was really mad at you for the longest time… I thought you had just abandoned us… Y/n.”

Jaehyun is aware of the spite in his tone but he can’t help but feel vindicated for something that isn’t true. His eyebrows furrow, leaning over the table for Ollie to feel his confusion. The younger one tilts his head like the boy from earlier.

“Ollie, I kept sending letters nearly every week for the past five years. I thought you all were the ones to leave me in the cold. What do you mean I didn’t keep in contact?” The roles seemed to have reversed. Ollie mimicked Jaehyun’s stance, elbows on the table while downing the remains of his drink.

“We never got a single letter. Pa was so disappointed he cried often about it. Ma didn’t but it was obvious in the way she took care of her plants. Your departure was enough but you really hurt them after that, they saw you as a son, you know.” Ollie shakes his head, swatting a fly away to avoid looking at Jaehyun.

“And Y/n… you really ruined her, Jaehyun. She would spend days in your room hoping to find an address or a phone number. At least to reproach your actions but instead she would cry herself to sleep in there. Her parents had to take her back home after a year, so she found a job and Ma and Pa were taken in by their daughter. She was doing better by then but still had to stay in the city just in case. They left me to take care of the house but it’s not the same.”

Ollie’s voice is no longer harsh, it’s hurt. Jaehyun can’t help but blame himself with how things unfolded but he was sure he wrote those letters. He kept copies of them to recall everything he once said to you and them and if he had known you never received them, he would’ve bought them.

“I-I…” He sighs, “I promise I sent the letters! I made sure to drop them off at the publishing house’s mailing room. I can’t believe this…” His hand comes to his forehead but Ollie shrugs, picking at some peanuts he had laying around. “Beats me then. Why didn’t you visit in that case? We waited long enough.”

Reality is that there will always be evil lurking around and seeing how this place brought you joy and peace, the publishing house did everything in their power to yank it away from him. Jaehyun isn’t a bubbling author full of life and hope. No, Jaehyun is a bleak cynical writer who dwells on the hatred he has for the house and manifests it through broody characters that find no meaning in life. If they had to bring that back, they would. He can have his one train wreck of a joyful book but newcomers have to go back to what they were.

Jaehyun’s head hangs low, all excuses feeling useless. “Manger and publisher didn’t let me. We spent two years editing the final draft and by the following, publishing was in the works but the investors tried everything to change it that we had to fight for another year or so. I wasn’t even allowed to visit my parents, they had to come to me. Isn’t that insane?”

Ollie nods, sympathy and pity muddling on his face. Cruelty at its finest.

“We only traveled for promotions at the end of last year once it was published and some months after this one but I ‘escaped’ if you will and here I am.” His smile twists to the side, dawning upon him that misery will accompany him everywhere he goes.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? It’s not your fault.” Jaehyun hands him another bottle. Ollie nods, “I know, but things could’ve been different if you didn’t work in hell.”

The two laugh, clinking their bottles again. All was lost but one thing and that was the hope of Ollie helping him connect with you and explain it all. He didn’t want you to have such a bad image of him when all he’s ever done is show you how much he loves you.

“What have you done with your life then?” “I got married and had a kid. The brat from out there.”

The kid had been playing with the hens outside the sprint door. Cats surrounded him and reminded Jaehyun of Ollie when he used to play with the animals while pretending to be doing labor work.

“Looks just like you.” The younger hums. “He’s just like me too.” The two laugh heartily, reminiscing on your grandfather’s laugh.

He hesitates for a moment but ultimately asks. “How’s Y/n doing?” There’s longing in his voice but the look in Ollie’s eyes tells him something isn’t right. The fact that he’s holding back a cough, a grave clue. The younger one wants to stall but knows that eventually he’ll find out if he keeps looking.

“Y/n is soon to get engaged…” Like a bucket of cold water, Jaehyun feels his arteries clog and his body run cold, turning stone hard. “She’s been seeing a guy from work for the past two years, they relocated him to somewhere in Maranello, and now they’re living there. He sent a letter asking me to be there for when he proposes… I got the letter yesterday actually.”

Ollie handed him the letter still inside the envelope. “He’s a nice guy but lacks some sense. He treats her well and provides for her but I’m not sure if it’ll thrive.”

The now father stands up with a bucket of corn kernels, calling his child to feed the chickens while they’re all huddled together. He gives Jaehyun one last look with a mischievous smile plastered on his face.

“You’re welcome to stay, in your old room or here.” Jaehyun thanks him. “Landline has long overseas calls now, do with that as you will.” A toothy reassuring grin, Ollie walks out of the home leaving Jaehyun to his vices.

He gives the boys one last look, gaze dropping to the letter and reading over it around four times. It lacks emotion, it’s formal and only demonstrates excitement when describing your work on the garden. The only thing that reminds you of this place now that you’re miles away. Behind it is a letter written by you.

‘Very well, I’ll send you a care package later, Ollie. I wanted to remind you that we have a new phone so I’ve written it down. Don’t forget to write it down in the contact book or you’ll have to find a way to call me this time!

I love you, Gremlin, take care!

Sincerely, Y/n.’

If the angels weren’t clear as day, then he was stupid if he didn’t take the opportunity.

Jumping out of his seat to the bar, Jaehyun stumbles to grab the phone, nothing like Gabby’s old dinky phone. He dials the foreign numbers, fingers tracing over your written name to feel the connection you did with the paper that lasted you a measly few hours.

“Hello?”

That sweet voice transported him five years to the past. Trembling within the walls of his brain and heart, waking up whatever joy he once felt before leaving this wonderful place. Even when your voice seemed aggravated from the silence on his end while garnering courage, he felt alive again.

“Hello?!”

He sighs, clutching to the phone for dear life, facing the outside allowing the sun rays to fall on him like the day he rested over your exposed body to feel your heart and soul envelop him in the love you once –and he hopes you still have– had for him.

“Y/n–” “...”

The hesitance hurts, old feelings swarming in like a desired plague. You won’t ever forget that voice.

“Jaehyun…” “I remember everything.”

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #kvanity #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #nct smut #jaehyun #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #nct u smut #nct 127 smut #nct 127 #nct #nct fic

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thedemoninme141 · 3 months ago

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Operation Oreo

Wrote this cause @ortegalvr and @cobaltperun inspired me a little. Never thought I would write fluff.

Summary: A jealous Wednesday buys you Oreos...

It had taken an hour of pleading, sweet-talking, and even a few light-hearted bribes, but you’d finally managed to get Wednesday to agree to go with you to the carnival. She was by your side now, looking as out of place as ever in her all-black attire, her expression one of deep displeasure.

Wednesday scanned the surroundings with a sharp gaze, her mind undoubtedly filled with thoughts of a million better things she could be doing. The only reason she hadn't slipped away into the shadows was because of you. Her loyalty, or perhaps something more, kept her grounded. Still, she was just about ready to tell you that she was leaving when a lanky boy from Ajax’s group approached.

"Hey, I got these for you," the boy said, holding out a open packet of Oreos. "I remember you mentioned these were your favorite."

You blinked in pleasant surprise, smiling as you accepted one from the packet. "Thank you! That's really thoughtful."

You laughed at something he said, and Wednesday's eyes narrowed. She wasn’t entirely sure if Oreos were your favorite, though she was mildly annoyed at herself for not knowing. But any regret she felt was quickly overshadowed by a surge of jealousy as she watched the boy inch closer to you, clearly enjoying your attention a bit too much for her liking.

Without a word, Wednesday turned on her heel and strode through the crowd, her eyes locking onto Enid, who was in line for food. The werewolf was balancing a tray of snacks when Wednesday grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the line.

“Wednesday! What gives? I’m going to lose my spot!” Enid complained, nearly dropping everything as she was dragged along.

“Where can I find a carton of Oreos?” Wednesday asked, her tone flat but her eyes flashing with an emotion Enid struggled to decipher.

Enid’s confusion only lasted a moment before she spotted the boy sharing his Oreos with you and your smile. A grin spread across her face as she pieced it together. “Ohhh, I see what this is about. Wednesday Addams, jealous? I never thought I’d see the day!”

“Enid.” Wednesday’s voice was a warning, cold enough to shut Enid up, but not before she couldn’t resist teasing her one last time.

"Don't worry, Ajax and I will help you with Operation Oreo."

The next thing you knew, you and Wednesday were sitting in the backseat of Ajax’s car as he drove, Enid beside him literally choking because it was too hard to hold the laughter inside.

Enid had practically shoved you inside. The car was crammed with packs of Oreos, a ridiculous amount, so many that there was barely any room for the two of you to sit. The sight was so absurd that it took everything you had not to burst out laughing.

Wednesday, on the other hand, was staring intently out the window, refusing to meet your gaze. Her shoulders were tense, and you could see the faintest hint of pink on her pale cheeks.

You knew this gesture, this utterly nonsensical yet endearing over-the-top display, had been her way of staking a claim, of showing that she cared in her own peculiar way.

You reached over and gently touched her hand. “Wednesday…”

She turned to you, her eyes softening just a fraction. “He shouldn’t have given you those Oreos. It should've been me. I should have known they were your favorite.”

You finally let the giggle escape, your heart swelling with affection. “It’s okay. You know now, and you didn’t have to do all this.”

Wednesday frowned, glancing around at the mountains of cookies surrounding you both. “Perhaps it was… excessive.”

“Maybe a little,” you teased lightly. “But it’s the thought that counts. I love that you’d do something like this for me, Wednesday. It means a lot.”

“Let’s never speak of this again,” she said, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward.

You nodded, still holding back your laughter. “Agreed.”

Some Oreos between you two crumbled in their packets as you moved closer to her to put your head on her shoulder, who cares about broken Oreos? You like KitKats more anyway.

[ Author's note: Its been exactly one year since Celine left. Its been a rough year old friend, I miss exploring the lands between with you.]

Our other works are here.

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams x you #wednesday #wednesday x fem reader #wednesday x you #wednesday x female reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x fem!reader #oreo #wednesday x fem!reader #fluff

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dandylovesturtles · 10 months ago

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@theplacewhereidumpmyinterests I can't talk about most of them because they're part of an AU verse I want to keep secret until I have the first fic that's part of it written, and idk when that will be (by summer?? HOPEFULLY??), but I guess I can talk about the other one because idk if/when I will write a fic for him (I'd like to but like I am only human)

"more AUs Dandy?" LISTEN all I do is sit around and think about "what if"s, okay?

ok so this started as me being like, hm, we see Lou Jitsu with a rotating door of women, so many he doesn't seem to remember all their names, so it's not totally out there to think he might have gotten one of them pregnant, right?

and thus Marcus (middle name Kyle) was born! literally!

so the story for this is, Lou Jitsu had a fling with a woman in the early 90s, pre-Big Mama. they were both in agreement that the whole thing was casual and it didn't last very long, but oopsie-daisy about six weeks after their last night together she finds out she's pregnant.

she debates what to do for a bit, because, as established, Lou Jitsu is kinda a fuckboi and she doesn't really want a relationship with him. But once she decides she's definitely keeping the baby she feels like she can't just not tell him, right? so she tries!

...unfortunately he's dating Big Mama by that point and she interferes to make sure that Lou Jitsu never meets with the woman and never finds out, because she knows this would get in the way of her plans.

she takes never hearing back from LJ as a sign he just isn't interested in the kid and resolves to single-motherhood. which she is the best at, btw.

she's still considering trying to introduce Marcus to his dad at some point, but unfortunately her kid isn't even 5 before Lou Jitsu suddenly goes missing, with his teary fiancée telling a sob story to the cops. assuming, same as everyone else, that he's dead, she lets the whole thing go, though she does tell Marcus who his dad is once he's old enough to understand everything.

Marcus goes through periods of being obsessed with Lou Jitsu, watching all his movies and consuming every piece of media about him that he can find, and periods where he can't stand to even hear the name. it's up and down. from his perspective, LJ abandoned him and his mom, but he's also dead, so it's not like he can have closure on this ever, right? so it's just a thing he has to deal with on his own.

but he's fine! he's alright. he gets through high school, then college, then accepted into vet school just fine.

then... his mom gets sick and dies.

yeah, that's a hard blow.

but he's alright! he has a few buddies from college he still sees now and then, and he's started his zoo vet residency at the Bronx Zoo (with a particularly special interest in reptiles), so lots of new people to meet that way! he's doing great! he's not lonely at all!

(a few months ago, he was suddenly woken up by a surge of something, like dozens of voices were crying out to him for help, tugging him toward something, saying his family needs him...

yeah, no idea what that was about. he doesn't have any family anymore.)

then the sky opens up and aliens come out.

Marcus is at work, because of course aliens would attack at the beginning of his shift. he spends the day ushering survivors into safe zones within the zoo, using his medical knowledge to handle first aid, and just trying to stay sane as the whole world turns upside down.

and then just as suddenly as it all started... it stops.

in the aftermath, everyone around him is just trying to get home, desperately calling their loved ones and praying for the best. Marcus starts trying to figure out how he's going to get home, because the trains definitely aren't running, and as he looks as his phone for a spark of inspiration, he realizes... no one has tried to call him. his coworkers' phones have been going off all day, whenever they can get signal, as loved ones try to reach them, but... he doesn't have anyone trying to reach him. and as he sits there he realizes he doesn't know who he should be calling, either.

so. that's pretty depressing.

and as he's sitting there, thinking about his life and what led him here, in a now empty vet clinic outside the bronx zoo... he hears a noise. and then, voices.

ah great. looters.

at first, Marcus tries to call 911 - but obviously the call center is swamped. so he decides to take care of the problem himself, going to see who's there and get rid of them...

wait, who is he kidding? he's definitely not paid enough to confront potentially armed looters! he's going to get out of here.

but just as he starts to leave, he hears the voices again - coming from one of the surgery rooms this time. and they're talking about IVs... scalpels... anesthesia...

suddenly he realizes that these aren't looters - they're here to try and treat somebody.

and like hell is he going to let some idiot kill someone trying to do DIY surgery.

so he turns back around and bursts into the room... on two humans, a rat that counts as giant even for New York, and four very big, very injured turtles.

one of whom immediately points a gun in his face. to be fair, that's what he thought would happen.

"Donnie!" yells the biggest one, and, oh, they can talk. huh.

"Relax, it's just a tranquilizer!"

"Donatello!" that's the rat. there's a sound like a whip cracking and the one with the gun makes a startled noise and drops it.

now the rat is in front of him. he's looking up at Marcus imploringly. "Do you work here?" he asks.

"Y-yeah. I'm a vet."

the rat bows very politely. "my sons are seriously hurt, and I don't have the supplies to help them at home. I understand it is a lot to ask, but... we must use your supplies. please, if you could just look the other way."

Marcus looks around at the turtles, especially the one on the table, the one worst off. he looks mangled. he won't live long if he isn't properly treated.

a rat, two humans who look like teenagers, and the turtles. who the rat called "sons". now that he's noticing, they're all pretty short, other than the big one. are they also teenagers?

"...Are any of you doctors?" he asks. the littlest one starts to raise a hand, but the girl grabs it and forces it back down.

everyone else has left by now. he's the only doctor here.

alright. guess he's doing this.

"...okay, everyone make some room. let me get sterilized, and I'll see what we're working with here."

and that's how the son Lou Jitsu didn't know he had becomes primary care doctor to his teenage mutant ninja half-brothers. ^^

(and then a bunch of other stuff happens)

#rottmnt #rottmnt oc #I hc that all the boys have their dad's eyes btw #so I had this joke planned where leo is like #hey this guy has our eyes too haha #donnie is like shut up leo you're delirious #he gets close to leo first just because he has to spend a lot of time with him #but he gets close to all of them over time #mikey talking about lou jitsu one day and marcus is like oh wow didn't know kids your age knew LJ #mikey like OF COURSE HE'S THE BEST #Marcus is like well you know I don't tell just everyone this but he's actually my bio dad #Mikey like haha that's so funny because #......................................................................wait #OHMIGOSH!!!!!!!!!#leo: we have to be better prepared for the next one of dad's love children #splinter: there are no more love children??#leo: how do you know you didn't even know about THIS one

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cialovesklopp · 1 year ago

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𝐏𝐎𝐕 | k. mbappé

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — where advices from close people lead to the final reunion between two lovers who are already destined in the stars to be together

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 7.5k

𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 — pov [ariana grande]

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — we've finally made it. after this chapter the revenge era officially begins mixed with a lot of kylian and amara. i can't wait to start writing the next chapter but those will vary sometimes in format and style

taglist: @lorarri @locedes @aechii

masterlist

mama always knew best — amara doesn’t think she had ever heard truer words.

somehow the minute taraji imani had entered the parisian apartment, she sensed the change on her daughter. it started with the apartment where between the smell of cinnamon and vanilla, she also picked up faints of a manly perfume. the hoodie that was thrown over the white couch was her next clue because she instantly remarked that it did not belong to her daughter. she wasn’t saying this in a way of proving she was very controlling but instead the size of the hoodie made it clear that it was not amara’s.

the biggest clue though was her daughter herself. the moment the door had been opened and she had faced amara, she could see that something was different. the last time amara had seen her parents, it had been with tears rolling down her face, dull, swollen eyes from all the crying and forced smiles — a clear contrast to what taraji had been met with now. amara had a soft smile on her face when she had let her mother enter the apartment, no sign of any tear or make-up to, perhaps even cover eye rings or any swelling.

taraji’s eyes travelled over the apartment since it was her first time she had visited her daughter in paris. the apartment itself was beautiful, she had to admit. the beige decor along with the simplistic and modern decor gave the apartment a feel of comfort that spread the minute one stepped in.

“you cannot tell me that you did this yourself,” she exclaimed, a sharp look of scepticism sent into amara’s direction.

“mama, i did this all by myself with some help of liyah and grace when they weren’t busy.” she explained, smiling cheekily.

“well, it looks good. i’m proud of you.” her mother replied, sitting down on the couch. amara took place on the small armchair opposed to her, grabbing her phone, pen and song-notebook. “so tell me now, what have you been planning? the last time we spoke, you told me you had a project going.”

taraji noticed the change even more when a sudden excited expression appeared on her daughter’s face just at the mention of the planned project.

“i am working on some songs. i’m ready to go back into the spotlight again, i had my time and rest but like you said. i need healing from all this. ma ị mara m, usoro ọgwụgwọ m gụnyere ide abụ na hapụ mmetụta m.” — and you know me, my healing process consists of writing songs and release my feelings

“is that why you’re glowing so positively and shining?” her mother exclaimed, eyes sparkling with delight. it warmed her heart to see her daughter so alive and spirited again, remembering the way she had looked like the last time. a walking corpse. now she was spreading life and vividness.

amara tried to hide her smile, managing to chuckle at least. “what exactly are you taking about?” she questioned her mother confusingly.

"elela m anya otú ahụ. enwere m ike ịhụ mgbanwe nke ọma." — don't look at me like that. i can clearly see a change

the laugh that escaped amara’s laugh was enough to prove her mother’s statement. taraji had no idea of the feeling of joy that surged in her heart.

amara waved dismissively. “let’s just say, paris has been good to me and allowed me to make the significant changes that were necessary. and it also gave me inspiration.”

her mother’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. she watched as amara scribbled down in her notebook, face scrunching up in concentration as she wrote down some words. she was also able to see the sparkle that had been lit again — the very thing that had helped her become herself.

“i am just glad that this Phase with evan is over. i never really liked that guy.” she muttered under her breath, her distaste and disgust clear in her voice.

“should’ve listened to you,” she replied nonchalantly, shrugging. “i finally saw his true colours, just sad that it took me nearly two years.”

“weren’t you friends with the new girl he’s dating?”

“kaia gerber?” she inquired, arching an eyebrow. “nope. we met once, at a fashion show and talked but we weren’t friends. i’m happy she’s dating him, maybe two nepo babies will cancel each other out.”

she put her notebook down and stood up, walking towards the kitchen. “i made chocolate cake knowing you love it so much. do want a piece now or later?”

“is it with chocolate pieces?” her mother asked to which amara nodded, “then yes please, a piece would be nice, ada.”

she entered the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with two pieces of homemade chocolate cake. as she sat down, the vibration of her phone made her look up, especially because it was the one she had programmed to ring when kylian texted her.

just at the thought of him, a smile plastered on her face which did not go unnoticed by taraji. her smile widened even more as she read the french’s strikers message, grinning widely.

“so this is why you’re so happy lately i assume?” her mother inquired, smirking slyly at her daughter.

as if she was caught at a crime scene, amara rapidly put down her phone, staring at her mother. “amaghị m ihe ị na-ekwu” — i do not know what you’re talking about

“ị chere na a mụrụ m ụnyaahụ?” she retorted incredulously at amara’s attempt to lie. “m na-amụkwa ọnụ ọchị otú ahụ n'ihi nna gị” — do you think I was born yesterday? — i used to smile like that because of your father

amara rolled her eyes, still grinning. “i will admit that there is someone but i can guarantee you there is nothing going on between us. we’re taking it slow.”

“taking it slow?” taraji asked, arching an eyebrow.

“yes. mainly because i am not ready to move forward yet with all this drama going around.”

her mother's eyes softened, filled with both empathy and relief. “it is already a step forward that you know your feelings about yourself. but sweetheart, if you like him, go for him. love doesn’t mean marriage directly. you have time, ada to work things out. if he is able to instantly make you smile like that, he must be someone important.”

“i do feel a lot for him but i don’t want to rush into anything. but i like him. a lot. probably the best thing in paris.” she confessed, smiling shyly.

seeing amara like that made taraji’s heart warm. her daughter was truly in love, even a blind man could see that. the shy smiles were all that the nigerian mother needed to realize that her daughter was in deep.

the two had always been close. even though amara had a special bond with her father, created through watching football and formula 1 together, her mother had always stayed her best friend. especially because taraji had been so young when she had had amara. no one knew her better than her mother, was able to read her like her mother. she would always stay her favourite person.

“i am so proud of you. you deserve someone who cherishes you and respects you. who doesn’t put you first but lets you stay there... and i have a feeling this one might be the one for you.” taraji added when she saw amara grin at her phone again.

“i hope he’s the one too.” she muttered, losing herself in her notebook and thoughts as she listened to her mother.

she wasn’t as productive with the impending album as she had hoped with her mother visiting but she was still determined to finish the songs and at least have some work done that she could be proud of at the end of the day.

on the other side, kylian wasn’t any better. while usually his mind was focused clearly on correcting his mistakes from their latest match and getting better, this time all his thoughts circled around amara. stretching his arms, the french striker walked out the changing rooms, rejoining his team mates on the field. he was still smiling when he joined the group of his teammates that were wearing orange tees, his mind still thinking about the conversation he just had with amara. and it didn’t go unnoticed by his teammates.

“oh kylian,” presnel called him, ripping him out of his thoughts. “what’s got you smiling like that?” he questioned his friend, the others all looking at him expectantly.

startled, kylian turned to his teammate, grinning from ear to ear. “nothing. arrête de t’imaginer des choses.” he replied playfully, shrugging off their curiosity. — stop imagining things

“ca fait quand même longtemps qu’on t’a plus vu comme ça.” presnel pressed on the top. he playfully put an arm on kylian’s shoulder, “come on, you can tell tonton presko everything.” — but it’s been some time that we haven’t seen you like this

kylian laughed, shrugging his teammate’s arm off and grabbed a ball, starting with the exercises they were ordered to do.

however he couldn’t escape everyone. he had been able to dodge presnel, marco and hakimi but neymar wouldn’t make it that easy for him. the brazilian star found his opportunity to lead his own interrogation during a pair exercise, where he immediately partnered with kylian. a mischievous sparkle in his eye, he asked his friend, “so… now wanna tell me what made you smile like that?”

“i already told presnel that there —“

he instantly cut him off, raising his eyebrow in scepticism. “cut the bullshit kyky. maybe you can lie to them but you can’t lie to me. so tell me the reason for your constant good mood.”

catching neymar’s gaze, he knew he was right so kylian decided that confiding into one person wouldn’t hurt much. “well, there is someone but we’re only friends.” he confessed, adding the last part quickly when he saw neymar’s smirk.

“just friends?” he inquired.

“yes, for the moment we’re just friends. but even if i wanted something more, i already told her i would wait till she was ready for more.” he revealed in hushed tones. “but don’t you dare tell a soul or i’ll sell you,” kylian threatened him jokingly, referring to the rumour that had been going on where he had apparently had the intention of selling his best friend.

rolling his eyes, he brazilian nr. 10 replied dismissively. “don’t worry about that bro. i got your back. now tell me more and why did you promise her, you’d wait.”

kylian sighed, passing him the ball lightly to at least act as if they were doing some work. “we’ve known each other now for a few months but whenever we go one step forward, she somehow takes three steps back the next time. and i have nothing against waiting but i just want to know where we truly stand. the mixed signals are confusing me.” he revealed, in addition to his confession that her presence was the best thing in those past months.

“is she some kind of virgin and this is her first relationship or what do you mean by steps forward?” neymar asked him after having listened intently.

he shook his hand, a sharp glare sent into his friend’s direction. “she just came from a relationship that, let’s say, did not end so good. in fact, it was terrible and she is still fixing some things but also the fact that she’s very insecure now. it kind of makes all this complicated.”

“in that case, what you need to do is talk to her. how often do you speak or see her?”

“three to four times a week but we text each other nearly everyday except when she’s busy.”

“there you have it. text her and talk to her about it. not that you want to move forward but that you want to know where you stand. but still, you’ll have to give her time and not rush her if you’re saying that she’s still so fragile.” he advised, patting him on the back. “has she already opened up?” kylian nodded, making a grin appear on his friend’s face. “there you have it. she’s ready for a step forward and maybe a relationship with you. just let time do it’s thing.”

keeping neymar’s advice in mind, kylian focused again on training, finishing the exercises they told to do. he was grateful for the advice he had been giving, realizing that pressuring her wouldn’t help either. he would’ve asked her earlier how exactly things stood between them but she had practically refused to see him yesterday, knowing they had come back late from their away match. but he had to see her today.

after finishing his shower and getting dressed, the french striker grabbed his phone, impatient to call her. he changed his mind though, deciding to text her instead of calling as he still wanted to keep amara to himself. he wasn’t ready to share her with his world yet.

𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄:

𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍: finished with training can i come over?

𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀: yeah pls actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to but forgot

𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍: of course how could i forget that amara imani is a busy woman

𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀: don’t make me block you anyway i have a surprise for u so you should definitely come

𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍: on my way

a wide smile formed on his lips as he read her message. he grabbed his back and bid his friends goodbye, not missing the wink neymar had sent him as he made his way over to amara. the woman that would be the death of him. but if he died, he'd at least die a happy man.

a feeling of deep comfort spread through the room when amara lit some cinnamon candles and placed them on the coffee table in front of her. the talk with her mother felt good, the feeling of having someone who always supported her. words couldn’t describe her luck. she sat down on the couch, enjoying her moment of comfort and peace.

from the kitchen out, she was able to smell the chocolate cake and apple tart she had just baked. the latter had been for kylian who had just come back from an away match and had been a bit displeased and moody at the fact that amara couldn’t come see him. of course he had understood, knowing in which situation the singer found herself in but still he could not get himself to not be a bit disappointed about her lack of presence. text messages and calls could only replace that much. so amara had thought of surprising him with his favorite cake, not knowing that she would be the one to be surprised.

sitting comfortably on the couch, she grabbed her phone, checking for any unread messages or missed calls. she had already finished talking with grace about her upcoming album. truthfully, in the beginning the idea had been to just release some songs but the more time she had spent with kylian the more inspiration she had gotten. in the end, she found herself with enough songs to make a whole album and after a lot of insisting from grace, who had also called liyah as back-up, amara had surrendered and agreed to make an album. now it was just a question of who would be on it and who wouldn’t.

she pulled her legs close while closing the messenger app and opening a book she had recently started. her self-ordered quarantine had given her lots of time and she was bent on using it for things she hadn’t had much time for. next to painting and songwriting, reading was definitely on the list and she planned on making it her hobby again. indulging in the quiet and solitude she was experiencing currently, she made herself comfortable on the couch and rapidly started to read her book from the spot she had stopped the last time.

she had lost track of time when the locks on the door turned and kylian entered the apartment, his sports bag hanging loosely on his shoulder. dressed in a white t-shirt, that practically made his ab lines visible for everyone and a pair of blue loose jeans, amara had difficulties to draw her eyes from his stomach. what stood out most though was the thing he was holding in his right hand, which he had pulled behind his back to hide whatever he had in hand. he put her house keys on the hooks, aligned at the wall before he finally entered the living room, where she was waiting patiently for him.

immediately at the sight of her, his lips formed a curve, the two small dips making their appearance again and filling amara’s stomach with butterflies. “hey ky,” amara greeted him. standing up to hug the french striker, she pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, inhaling the scent she had grown so used to having around her.

“salut ma belle,” he mumbled into her hair, pulling her closer. at the sound of her nickname, feelings of excitement rushed through her, still getting flustered whenever kylian used that name for her. originally, his nickname had firstly been ‘mara’ since her short name didn’t leave much creativity for nicknames but he had once called her ma belle and amara had had a shock reaction, spilling her drink on him. of course this had been so funny to him he had given her the name again and it had stuck much to her dismay. -- hello, my beautiful

“congratulations for the win,” she exclaimed happily. even though she hadn’t been at the match, she had watched it from her couch, cheering loudly when paris scored. “your goal was beautiful. i probably woke the neighbours with my screams.”

he laughed at her confession, knowing exactly what she must have looked like. after all, he had watched a liverpool game once with her and she had probably broken his eardrums whenever the reds had scored. “thanks. it’s a shame that my biggest supporter couldn’t come to see the goals live.”

amara rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what he was hinting at. “kylian, i already explained to you why i wasn’t able to come,” she objected, her voice still bright, “but i have a surprise for you.”

she turned, ready to go into the kitchen to get his cake but he grabbed her hand to stop her. looking at him with a confused expression, she watched as kylian held up his hand and then pulled out his right hand from his back, a huge bouquet of flowers appearing in his hand. the rose and white flowers were clearly a contrast to him but amara had never seen anything more beautiful than this.

the confused expression was immediately exchanged, replaced by a soft one and made a smile appear on her face; a genuine one that only happened to come out when kylian was there.

“omg, you didn’t have to,” amara gushed, happiness clear in her face. she happily accepted the bouquet of pink peonies and white lilies, a huge smile spreading on her face when she leaned down and smelled the scent of the flowers. “these are so beautiful.”

“je savais que tu devrais les adorer.” he replied, matching amara’s enthusiasm. just seeing the way she smiled and was genuinely happy was able to put a smile on his face. but he also wondered what her relationship with evan must have truly been like if she was this happy for something that should be self-evident in a relationship. — i knew you’d love them

he probably would never know that this was the first time she had ever received flowers because someone had genuinely meant to get her some. amara always had to force evan to buy her some flowers and even then it had only been on valentines day as he deemed flowers as unnecessary. it was a shock for her that someone thought of her as important to bring her flowers.

she delicately affirmed her grip around the bouquet, her eyes already looking for a spot where she could put the flowers and see them immediately. “where did you even get them?”

he waved dismissively. “i passed a flower shop on the way to you and saw them in the shop window. they reminded me of you so i had to get them.” he admitted, and again amara was glad, her skin colour made it impossible for her to blush.

“why are you so perfect?” she asked rhetorically. grinning at him. “now my surprise is nothing compared to yours.”

“anything you do is perfect in my eyes.” kylian assured her, lovestruck expression clear. “come on, tell me, what did you prepare?”

with a playful glint in her eyes, she grabbed his hand and led him to the kitchen. “close your eyes,” she ordered him, excitement clear in her voice. he did as ordered, his face scrunching up when he heard the sound of the refrigerator open and close and metal, whose sound resembles a lot to the one of a knife. “you can open them now.”

kylian’s eyes opened and he was instantly faced by a grinning amara, where kylian feared her face would break soon from all the smiling and a cake in her hand, more specifically a pie and not just any pie. the apple pie he had seen once on tv at her apartment and had told amara, he would die to eat one. immediately, his confused expression changed, joining amara on her happy one.

“you actually made me apple pie?”

she nodded happily, holding out a fork. “i tried my best to make it like the one on tv but i can’t guarantee anything.”

“now it’s my turn to say, you didn’t have to.” he replied, grinning. he took a bite of the cake, his senses exploding when the taste reached his tongue. originally, he hadn’t even liked the cake that much, he had just wanted to eat apple cake at that moment but now whatever he had seen on tv, it would never match hers. screw that, he would never ever eat another apple cake again if it wasn’t hers.

amara shrugged dismissively. “you brought me my favorite wine and flowers and so many other things. consider this as something from me.”

again, kylian felt this unclear signal from her. what did she feel for him? was she ready to take this step forward or would they forever stay in this situation, this fine line between friendship and love. a line so thin, even kylian wasn’t able to differentiate between their friendship and feelings. he recalled his conversation with neymar, knowing that he couldn’t avoid talking to her about his feelings.

“amara, you need to tell me where we stand.” he began. “you know i would wait for the world but i need to know where we stand. this is clearly not a friendship anymore but what exactly are we? where exactly are we moving?”

her heart fell as she listened to kylian. it had never been her intention to make him feel like that, she had thought it was clear that she wasn’t ready but still loved him. and yet, here he stood, asking after a clear statement from her because he was getting confused.

would she tell him to continue to wait? continue to hide behind her fears and insecurities — if anything she should have learned by now that she didn’t have to be afraid of anything with kylian. maybe her mind still had some difficulties at accepting that kylian would not be like Evan but her heart certainly had not.

since that night where they had talked for hours in the bathroom, it was clear that her heart beat for him. that he had somehow broken the shell of grief around it and had replaced it with a coat of fire. his fire, that protected her heart.

truthfully, what was she waiting for, amara asked herself. grace, liyah, even her mother had advised her that men like him only came once in a lifetime. that she shouldn’t string him along. she recalled her mother’s word, “if you like him, go for him. love doesn’t mean marriage directly. you have time, ada.” — she was done hiding behind an invisible wall that had already too many cracks,

she walked slowly towards him, kylian still looking at her with an expectant expression and grabbed his hands slowly, intertwining them which seemed to have taken him by surprise.

“kylian,” amara whispered softly, her voice sounding faintly through the room. her eyes looked through his, losing themselves immediately in his dark brown irises, that could read amara better than herself sometimes. “i’m ready. i wanna take a path forward.” she told him under her breath, the distance between their faces lessening with every word she spoke. “but only if you want me.”

time held still as the two lovers stared into each other’s eyes, losing themselves quickly in them and drawing out their surroundings. all that mattered, was the other. he had waited for this moment, patiently counted the time that she would need to heal. and he had been ready to wait even more after his talk with neymar. but nonetheless, he didn’t need to be asked twice to answer her question.

his hand grabbed her face delicately, one hand on each cheek and he leaned down towards her face, close enough to her amara’s heartbeat quickening. his eyes wandered down from her brown, honey like eyes to her lips, his ears catching amara’s shaky yet composed breath. was he about to make a mistake? maybe. was it all worth it because he finally had the girl he loved? definitely. he knew that the moment, amara had moved her hands to his neck, to crane it and pull it down a bit because of their height difference, he just had to kiss her.

and so he did. his lips briefly hovered over hers before he finally pressed his lips on hers. it was a soft kiss but full of tenderness, love and care that had built up during the growth of their relationship. her mind went blank at the sensations, hundred different thoughts and feelings rushing through her body. whatever she had felt the first time he had kissed her, even though it had only been on the cheek was intensified by ten.

kylian indulged in amara’s scent; the scent of vanilla filled his nose and the taste of cherry chapstick and chocolate drove his mind crazy. it was a hundred times better than all his imaginations he had had of this moment. her lips were soft, pillow-like — perfectly made for his.

“this is better than last time,” amara whispered between their lips, breathing heavily.

“je t’avais promis une expérience inoubliable,” kylian replied, his hot breath sending tingles through her body. — i did promise you an unforgettable experience

amara wrapped her hand around his neck tighter, placing her lips on his again. the amount of happy hormones that rushed through her body, made her close her eyes in satisfaction and adrenaline rushed through her entire body. the gentle kiss soon turned into a kiss full of passion and desire, their feelings of love and care exploding. all the thoughts they had held back, feelings they hadn’t shared were coming out and were added to their kiss.

another set of minutes passed before the two lovers finally detached from each other. both took heavy breaths, still startled from their heavy kissing seance. amara still felt her body vibrating, tingles still rushing through her. and it was the same for kylian, who also hadn’t been left unbothered from the kiss. they looked at each other, sharing a glance before bursting out in giggles.

“this was…” amara began first, trailing off to find a matching word that was worthy enough to describe what had just happened. “amazing. more than that.”

“this was just a foretaste,” kylian retorted, a smirk dancing on his lips, “there’s much more.”

intrigued, she crossed her arms. “really? then tell me, monsieur mbappé, what else is included in your dating package?”

“where do i even begin? let me just say that being with me is like winning the lottery. firstly, we have tons of kisses, whenever you want,” he began, pressing another soft kiss on her lips slyly, “then we have cuddles and guaranteed spooning.” he added, amusement becoming clear on amara’s face. “not to forget the shared clothes. with me, you also get a life supply of hoodies and sweatshirts along with psg tickets to every game—

“i’ll remind you that i’m a proud red,” she cut in, laughing.

“nevermind that, you’ll also get natural attention and unpredictable dating nights. there won’t be a week where you won’t see this beauty of a face. and let’s not forget the free massages and meals that comes with me.” he went on.

she looked at him sceptically. “i do not know if i ever want you in my kitchen again.”

his expression changed to shock as he put a hand on his hand, faking his offence. “i can’t believe you’re still holding me to that after i cooked that delicious meal for you the last time. and that just because i burned pasta and popcorn once.”

she waved dismissively. “you’re saying that as if you didn’t nearly put my kitchen on fire. but what else can i expect?”

“also you’ll be able to profit from this beautiful greek god of a body— and don’t look at me like that, i heard you say this about me on the ph9ne,” he added quickly when he saw amara open her mouth. she closed it quickly, thanking any higher power again that she was blessed with the inability to blush. “but let’s be honest, these abs are a true gift. now you won’t have to be embarrassed again when you’re caught staring at them.”

he watched as she put a hand on her forehead, facepalming, making him immediately laugh.

“but,” he trailed off, holding a finger up. “i haven’t even got to the best part. no boredom. you’ll never get bored with me. tu ne vas même plus connaître le mot l’ennui. we’ll have impromptu dance parties in the kitchen and we can continue our tradition of watching shitty 2000s rom-coms. believe me, it’ll be a blast.” — you won’t even know the word boredom anymore

“you said two,” amara commented, her cheeks starting to hurt from all the smiling. “what’s the other best advantage?”

he walked closer to her, mischievous glint in her eyes. “the last advantage,” kylian began, positioning himself behind amara and putting his arms under hers. “endless tickling.” he stated, launching a sneaky attack of tickles on her sides. he began at her sides, tickling her everywhere on her hips and stomach. she let out a scream, surprised by his sudden attack replacing it quickly with a happy expression.

the air filled with joyous sounds and laughs as amara tried to escape his hands, squirming and shaking. in the end she managed to squirm enough against kylian’s muscular body, making the two lose their balance and fall onto the sofa where amara used the small moment of shock from kylian to escape from his hands.

breathlessly, she turned to look at the french striker. “c'était nécessaire?” she demanded, hand over her chest to calm herself down and slow down her heartbeat. — was this necessary

kylian flashed her a smile, teeth shining brightly. “it’s part of dating me.” he replied cheekily.

“how the heck were you single when we met?” amara asked dumbfounded. “i wish evan would have done half of that for me.”

“let’s never talk of that asshole again, shall we? you’ll get the true experiment of love now. my mother did not raise an idiot when it comes to women.”

she nodded, snuggling closer to him to be able to lean her head on his shoulder. “so… what are we then if we’re talking about the experience of dating you?” amara asked him, as she traced the visible lines of his abs through his shirt.

he shrugged, not truly knowing how to answer her. he didn’t know what exactly she wanted them to be. what did she want to hear? “i don’t know. you know what i want.” he told her, turning to face her. “je veux t’aimer,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss on her temple, “i want to call you mine,” another kiss, this time just a bit above her earlobe. “je veux être la personne à qui appartient ton cœur.” a soft giggle escaped her lips as kylian held up their intertwined hands and pressed a delicate kiss on the back of her hand. — i want to love you

amara chuckled, snuggling even closer into his chest. the warmth of his body spread immediately to hers, creating a deeper sense of comfort. “i want the same.” she replied softly, playing with the hem of his shirt with her free hand. “but i’m gonna be truthful and admit that i’m a bit scared,” she confessed, “and i love you and love is about compromise and making efforts to meet the other. we’re in this together. i kept you waiting long enough.”

“you’ll never have to be scared with me. we’re taking one step at the time.” he stated, his gentle voice extending the comfort, “for now, we’re just dating. seeing where the wind takes us going with time. we don’t have to rush, we have all the time of the world.”

she nodded, happy and satisfied with his response. he understood her reluctance and didn’t pressure her, he was happy to go slow despite being clear about his intentions and knowing she was just insecure with the whole dating scene, especially dating another public person.

she detached herself from his embrace, and leaned forward to grab the plate with the chocolate cake she had made. the apple tart had been finished quickly and the two had then taken on the chocolate cake, eating the remains of what was left from her afternoon with her mother. with her free hand, she lifted kylian’s arms again, pulling it over her chest again to feel his warmth. his hand travelled down to her waist, resting there to pull her closer if he needed to.

“i should have made more,” amara muttered under her breath, watching kylian eat the chocolate cake like it would be the last cake of his life. she reached forward, wanting to grab a piece but her hand was swiftly removed by kylian, nudging it lightly to signify her to back up. “hey, i made this cake.”

“but you already had some while i was away. soit gentil,” he stated before taking another bite of the cake.

she pointed her finger at him. faking an expression of anger, “i’ll have you know that you ate a whole apple tart against your nutrition trainer’s introductions. at least cut him some slack and h9ld back for the chocolate. i could use some.”

“if you want it so badly…,” he trailed off at the end of his sentence, taking a small piece and bringing it slowly to her mouth. but seconds before she could finally taste the heaven of chocolate she had baked, he intentionally failed her mouth, leading to her having a small spot of chocolate next to her lip.

“je te jure,” she swore under her breath, grabbing the piece of cake by herself and eating it, not without showering kylian in cold stares and glares. the french striker though had an amused expression on his face, that grew even wider when he saw her sour one. — I swear

“let me remove it,” he said to her, fighting an impending laugh flash. he placed his finger on her cheek to brush away the chocolate he had smeared on her face and then all of sudden leaned forward, stealing a soft kiss which made amara shriek out of shock.

“kylian!” amara exclaimed amusingly, not even needing to look at the star footballer to know that he was grinning. probably like an idiot, amara thought

his grin spread wider, smiling from ear to ear as he shrugged. “couldn’t help it.”

she rolled her eyes, smirking at him. “si tu voulais m’embrasser, t’auras just à me demander.” — if you wanted to kiss me, all you had to do was ask

“amara, may i kiss you?” he retorted exasperatedly, holding onto her hand. she nodded, a cheeky expression appearing on her face and smiled when kylian placed his lips on hers again.

she found it funny the way he was just as addicted as her. once they had gotten a taste of what it felt like to kiss each other, they didn’t want to stop. they wanted to indulge into that feeling of wonder and desire, never let go of it again.

“i could kiss you for hours,” kylian whispered against her lips, making a giggle escape amara’s lips.

“i feel the same but let’s not be the kind of person who only know each other's lips. we’re not gonna be those couples who are constantly making out with each other.”

kylian shrugged, “i mean we could,” he began but shrunk down once he saw amara’s eyebrow raise, “but yeah, on n’est pas comme ça.” — we’re not like that

pleased with his answer, amara placed the dirty dish out of her lap to be able to move into a more comfortable position. she laid her face on his chest, continuing to trace his ab lines as he played with a few of her loose curls that weren’t tied into her ponytail.

it was calm, the only sound being their heart that pumped in a perfect rhythm. amara cherished moments like this, when it was just the two of them with nothing else going on.

“so how’s the music going?” he asked quietly, disrupting the silence around them. amara shrugged dismissively, too focused on the lines that were visible though his white shirt. they should forbid some people to wear those, she thought in her head.

“it’s going well. recorded a few song with grace & hudson but not finished yet. and we’re still looking for some collaboration but, you know, with my reputation could become a bit hard.”

“can’t you just call someone, like i don’t know, travis scott and tell him you want him on your song?” he asked innocently, in an ironic tone.

amara sighed, looking incredulously at him. “can’t you just call a club and tell them you want their player or why do transfers take so long?” she shot back in the same tone. “collaboration may sound easy but they’re not. you pay artists to collaborate with you. i paid a quarter million to have drake on ‘mine’ and even that was only because grace had some negotiations with him. sadly it’s not that easy.” she explained to him patiently.

nonetheless her annoyance about her situation, she shrugged dismissively. “anyway, i called a good friend of mine and we talked and i send her the song to see if maybe as a favor she would be on it. and now i just wait.”

“well, i still haven’t gotten my song yet. remember, the you promised me so much.” he teased her making her snort.

“and you’ll have to wait till i finish my project.” she replied in a firm tone, signalling him that she was done with the topic. she found the way he was excited for his song extremely funny — if only he knew that she was currently dedicating a whole album to him instead of just one song. an album that portrayed every single step and moment He between them.

he groaned, a his lips scrunching together to a pout. “that’s too long. for all i know, you could be finished in a year.”

“don’t worry, i won’t. that i can promise you. but i just need more time.”

she took his loud breath as acceptance and focused back to her work, not finished with memorising every inch of his body. everything fit now. like this had been the last piece of the puzzle, needed to find what she so desperately longed for. the feeling of true love.

for kylian, everything still felt a bit surreal. if someone had told him a year ago, that he would be here, kissing and talking with amara imani, who used to be his celebrity crush and still was, he would have deemed that person for crazy. and yet it was reality now. circumstances and luck had brought them together and maybe he wished they had met at a different time, when she wasn’t completely broken and needed to be repaired. sure, things could have gone quicker than but if he was honest, he wouldn’t change their process for anything. he had at first hand experienced the process of building a relationship that was founded on trust and love. why would he ever feel the need to change that?

bringing himself out of his thought, he lightly nudged amara who had closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth kylian gave her. “want me to play some music?” kylian murmured into her ear, amara nodding, a soft “hmm” leaving her lips while her eyes rested shut, not really paying attention to his question.

“sure, as long as it’s not—“ she began tiredly. “i know, i know. no french rap.” he cut her off, aware of her distaste for his music. he hit play on the playlist, amara had created for him, the first notes of finesse by drake sounding out of his phone.

it had become a habit for them to play music when they were together. a ritual, where one played music and the other enjoyed and the other way around. it helped them focus on each other, ignore the surroundings around except themselves.

“what’s the first step of your project by the way?” kylian asked her curiously in a low tone, careful to not wake her from her slumber-state.

“stepping back into the public.” she replied nonchalantly, adjusting her head on his chest. “i’m making my comeback.”

“and i’ll support you on every step through it.” he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss on her hair as she fell asleep. but how could she not? the man she had confessed her feelings for was holding her, without any intention of letting go, he extended a certain sense of comfort and safety amara had never truly felt with evan and he loved her. how could her body not deem him as safe

it was the same for him. even though he hadn’t planned on staying the night, he wouldn’t dare to move even an muscle. the sight of her, sleeping innocently on his chest, was enough to keep him glued to his position for his entire life. if he died right now, he would die a happy man. that was guaranteed. the way her chest lifted calmly in a small rhythm to make clear that she was deep asleep, her soft breaths colliding against his neck — if he could, he would fall all over again for her. she was too perfect for him not too. like said, both added up to each other in the best way possible and it was clear to everyone who saw them, that they wouldn’t find another one like that again. amara finally experienced what she only saw in movies. and it was a million times better.

nobody had ever loved her like him. but if this was, what it felt like then she would pray to any higher power to keep this feeling — this love.

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢

liked by liyah.clark, charles_leclerc, arianagrande, and 24.385.601 others

amara.imani paris, you treated me well

view all 725.394 comments

amarastan4ever MOM IS BACK AND SHE IS SLAYING

loveramara SOFT LAUNCHING!! WHO STOLE YOUR HEART QUEEN?

liyah.clark who are those fine ladies in the last picture @graceywood

graceywood hope they’re single

amyswiftie the fact that she just came back out of nowhere and thought we would ignore the soft launch

imanisupporter maybe it’s evan, he and kaia seem a bit distant lately

user 1 no way that’s evan, i doubt amara would even go near him with a 10 inch stick

imaniaddict and let’s be honest, evan doesnt look like that, muscular arms and hand placement — could never be him

imara_amanistan AND WE HAVE LOST HER AGAIN TO SOME MAN WHO WILL PROBABLY SCREW HER OVER AGAIN

kiaramaiman is this the announcement for new music??

chloe.imani i just know she has a whole book with diss tracks for e*an

imanixswift guys, calm down. the man in the picture is obviously me (i’m in my delulu era)

imanigossip ARE WE ALL SKIPPING THE FACT THAT WE’RE GETTING NEW MUSIC

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cremthehive · 1 year ago

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Sun in My Eyes; Chapter 1 {Viktor X Fem!OC }{SFW}{1.2k}{Modern!AU}

Summary: Eveline is in the anxiety inducing homestretch of her last year before she graduates with her degree from the academy. An opportunity to work with Hextech’s founder lands right in her lap, which she gladly takes. Only to find out a beautiful stranger she’s been seeing around campus, drawing, and obsessing over... is her boss. CW: Slow burn asf! Talks of anxiety, cursing, pining, college stress A/N: This is inspired by @gaybybirth's pieces surrounding Viktor working at the academy, you should read their amazing Viktor x Reader fics! I’m attempting to write out an idea I had so fingers crossed. If anyone has any feedback, please let me know! Thank you. <3

Electricity surges through the girl that sits in the back of the classroom’s body. Her leg bounces feverishly as quietly as it possibly could. Her hair actively curls around her right fingers, being tied in a knot only to be untied again. Her left fingers wrapped around a pen that was spreading its ink to the paper it touched. Her hazel eyes skim over the sketch with enamored interest as the lines mark the page. Fluffy spikes of hair curved around captivating eyes, the start of a jawline in the works right above the instructions that were the original owners of the page. Everything else was tuned out as this girl focused on this one single drawing more than the professor lecturing the rest of the class.

Whoever the sketch was imitating had been circling the girl’s brain from a simple glance. She thought that maybe if she drew him, he’d pass on to some afterlife in her brain that would let her remember him from time to time. Something about him gave her that schoolgirl crush feeling that had her obsessing over the way his eyes that glowed like the sun, his hair that looked so fluffy, it felt like her fingers would just glide through the strands. The thought made her cheeks feel hot, embarrassed only how obsessive she felt over this stranger. What was it about him? The intricate metal brace adorning his leg caught the sunlight causing the light to shine straight into her eyes as she walked by, that’s what got her attention.

“...the creators of Hextech have made this special visit to this class to present, but also to find someone who can help them out. This is a perfect opportunity to put your skills on display and get an entry point into this business you’ve put such hard work in.” The professor’s word cut into the girl’s daydream, her voice raising to catch the girl’s attention. Her knee ceases to bounce, her fingers stopping in their tracks as her eyes hesitantly raise up to the front.

Everyone in the classroom turned to her as the professor gave a pointed look towards her with her hands gesturing to cease her drawing. The rush of dread rushes through her, everyone’s eyes burning into her skin. It was like she had a giant stain on her shirt, and everyone noticed but her until it was too late. She subconsciously covers the sketch she was in the middle of to make sure no one knew her dirty little secret. “This is an opportunity you don’t want to miss, Eveline. If you’d had read what is on the page before drawing on it, you would know what I’m talking about.” The professor comments. The more immature students snicker at her gentle scolding, making Eveline grimace.

“...Sorry about that. I’ll do that now.” Eveline forces the words to come out, wanting to avoid the situation altogether. The professor looks at her for a moment longer before nodding, looking down at her watch. “You all have ten minutes to grab your portfolios that are gathered up here on the desk, bring them to your seat and look through them to pick the works you’d like to display. Please be quiet at this time as I know some people will have hard choices to make.” She lays the expectation down, gesturing to the desk with the folders laid on them. Students stand one by one, filling in a line to find their portfolio before venturing back to their spots. Eveline looks down at the page her beloved sketch laid upon, her eyes reacting to the words written on the page in big black bold.

Hextech Architecture Project; HexGates

Fuck. Me. And fuck that beautiful stranger, there’s no time to prepare mentally for their presence.

The two biggest prodigies of the academy were going to be in the room with her, possibly talking to her about hiring her. Maybe she should’ve paid attention to that instead of her handsome stranger. Eveline stood quickly to go get in line for her portfolio. She anxiously twisted her fingers around, chewing on her lip. Conversations about the two men coming to class were all that was playing in Eveline’s ears as she picked up her folder and walked back to her spot at the back of the class. What would she even pick? There’s not too much she’d deem her absolute best, despite her professors encouraging her otherwise.

Opening the folder, she finds her first year blueprints at the front with notes scribbled in the corners of them. She flips through them, casting most of them to the left, which she ends up deeming the left the unusable side. Two of her first year pieces are put to the right as she acknowledges the hard work put into them. Those were the nights she stayed up to nitpick her sketches with the utmost care and judgment. Her second and third year blueprints are much better going in chronological order, yet only three from those years made it to the right. Personal feelings got in the way of most of those as she went through life’s upside down rollercoaster. Lots of them were rushed with anger and frustration.

Her fourth year, which is the current year, consists of the few she deems her absolute best. She needs them to be her absolute best if she wants to put her six years of college to use. She slides the small pile to the right, knowing those didn’t need to be looked at twice. The left pile is slid back into her portfolio folder, in the right order of course before being put next to her bag. She looks at the unfinished sketch of the beautiful stranger, almost giving into the want of finishing it, but she resists. The sketch is slipped into her tote bag so she could focus on the task at hand. Getting this job.

Eveline’s professor gently claps her hands together to bring people to the present, instead of their stressful picking mindset; including Eveline. The professor waits until everyone is ready before smiling at everyone. “Please keep in mind that you all have worked super hard, and your work reflects that. There are several more opportunities than this one! You’ll learn a lot from their lecture about that.” She speaks kindly, a lot of the class nodding and whispering to their friends excitedly and nervously. Eveline’s stomach did a flip, sighing through her nose as her leg started to bounce again.

The door cracks open, a head peeking in. His skin was a perfect tan, eyes a brilliant brown with what looked like a fresh haircut. He opens the door wider as the professor waves to him and greets him with a handshake. There’s friendly and familiar conversation between the two of them, like he was once her student. Now he’s this big hotshot that everyone is starting to know what his name means. He was muscular and tall, with broad shoulders and the perfect “gym bod”. A ripple of gasps is heard from a specific group of girls making Eveline scoff, which she ends up covering it with a clear of her throat as one girl turns her head sharply to find the culprit. Her name was Lanie, and she acts as if she’s still in high school half the time. She was a real massive cu-

“Jayce Talis everyone, founder of Hextech, one of my top students, and possibly your future boss.” The professor introduces him with a chuckle. Jayce waves, saying a simple hello and nice to meet you to everyone. Just his demeanor made him seem friendly and well, smart. Some of the girls swoon, giggling. Eveline makes a face of disgust to herself at the group of girls who were acting like they just saw Shawn Mendes for the first time.

The burly man turns to the door, smiling. “And here is my genius partner, and co-founder, Viktor.” Jayce says excitedly, encouraging him to come through the door. The soft creak of something metal fills the doorway, followed by uneven footsteps as a tall, ill-postured man walks in. The overwhelming feeling of Eveline’s heart vomiting at the sight of the man, the clear memory of drawing that man right in the front of her brain. Her foot pushes her tote bag further under the table to hide said evidence because…

It was the beautiful stranger with that fluffy hair and sun-filled eyes.

#arcane #arcane viktor #viktor x oc #arcane viktor x oc #holy shit first post #viktor #pls give feedback

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zeiris-art · 1 year ago

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Hey guys!

Sorry for not posting for a while, but I didn't have any motivation and honestly I was pretty lazy...😅

But I suddenly got a surge of inspiration (I guess?) and decided to post something about my Reverse French Mistake au again. So here are the promised scenes and dialogue ideas. Hope you enjoy!

(Also this is not everything, I have more scenes and stuff, so I might make a part two if you're interested!)

First let's look at some angst:

Shortly after the trio gets transported into the world of Supernatural, they decide to grab something to eat. While they're sitting at the table and eating, Misha notices that his food doesn't taste right and he doesn't feel hungry. He realizes that as an angel, he doesn't need to eat.

Also during the first night, Misha just cannot fall asleep no matter how hard he tries. So he eventually settles on reading a book the whole night.

At first he likes these changes, because exhaustion doesn't hold him back anymore. However, over time, he starts missing being human.

After some time, the trio starts accidentaly calling each other by their character names instead of their real ones. They play it off as a joke at first, but then it becomes an issue as they start losing themselves more.

Now to ease things, let's move onto some fluff:

Although they are stuck in a fictional world, it doesn't stop them from doing pranks on each other. I have a scene in mind where Jared sneaks up on Misha and scares him. Misha, in shock, spreads out his wings and knocks Jared to the ground. Jensen is probably watching and losing it.

Later in the story (around Idk, the twelfth season?), the actors that still remember themselves or aren't trying to kill each other come together in the bunker to have a movie night. I can imagine Misha sitting between Jared and Jensen, and using his wings to pull them closer.

Now here is a small scene I started writing... (and that I'll probably never finish)

Jared was tired. He's been studying various books about spells, sigils and other things all day, but didn't find a single thing that could help them. He was tired and getting really frustrated. He groaned and closed another book in defeat. The former actor slumped his body against the chair he's been sitting on. He really needed a break. The house was quiet. Jensen left to buy some stuff and Misha was nowhere to be found. Jared got up from his chair and started walking towards the kitchen. When he was facing the kitchen counter to get a glass of water, he heard a familiar sound. The rustling of wings. He turned around to see, ,,Misha?" The addressed angel grinned: ,,Guess I'm getting the hang of this teleportation thing!"

#supernatural #supernatural au #the french mistake #reverse french mistake au #reverse french mistake #castiel #misha collins #sam winchester #jared padalecki #dean winchester #jensen ackles #fluff #angst #au

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years ago

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and the winner is... ~ eminem

word count: 1784

request?: yes!

“hey, love your writing sm ❤️ I really like the concept where the reader is a young actress with Eminem, so can I request one where they go to Marshall’s award show for the first time publicly, they try to keep it low key but the reader presents an award and when Em wins they share a warm moment on stage and the media loses it? thanks in advance”

description: in which they say they’re going to be lowkey for their first public appearance as a couple, and then he wins the award she’s presenting

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

It was hard to keep my hands off of Marshall as we walked down the red carpet. It was our first public outing as a couple, but Marshall wasn’t very into PDA so we had decided to keep it somewhat lowkey. It seemed like a good idea in theory, until Marshall did the unthinkable and showed up dressed in a suit. How am I supposed to not jump his bones when he looks damn fine in a suit?

Every time I so much as glanced at him the paparazzi would go crazy. So many flashing lights that eventually I was seeing spots. It was hard to keep smiling when I couldn’t even see ahead of me.

Marshall put an arm around my waist - which of course led to more flashing lights - and walked me off the red carpet into the venue. The minute I walked through the doors into the dimly lit room, it really was like I couldn’t see. I had to take a minute to let my eyes adjust to the sudden light change.

“Weird how quickly I go from basically a nobody on a red carpet to a hot commodity just because I have attractive arm candy,” I joked.

A half smile tugged at Marshall’s lips. “You were never a nobody. Not to me anyways.”

“Awe, that’s so sweet it’s kind of gross,” I teased.

This earned me an actual laugh as Marshall pulled me in for a kiss. Without any prying eyes around, we felt free to actually be a couple.

We engaged with some others in the industry, including those Marshall considered to be close friends of his. I felt out of place at this music award show as an actress who was still trying to become more than just a side character in the movies she starred in. I was grateful to have Marshall there to help me through it.

When we took our seats as the show was starting, Marshall reached over to take my hand. “Are you okay?”

I shrugged. “Nervous I think. Which I shouldn’t be because it’s just me announcing an award, but it’s my first time on an award show stage for any reason, and it’s a pretty big award.”

“And it’s one I’m nominated for.”

I looked over at Marshall with wide eyes. “What?!”

“You didn’t know?”

I shook my head. Now I felt so much more nervous. What if I pulled a Steve Harvey and said the wrong name because I wanted Marshall to win? Or what if he actually did win but everyone thought I said he did because we were dating? I tried to focus on the stage ahead of me but my heart was beating so fast that my vision was starting to get blurry. I felt warm, like I was sweating, which made me worry that my makeup was starting to run. I was going to look disgusting with my makeup running on live television.

Sensing my new found nervousness, Marshall gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, look at me.” I glanced over to meet his gaze. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve rehearsed this speech so much that you can say it without the teleprompter. It’s not going to be any different just because I’m nominated. If I win, you give me the award and I do a speech. If I don’t win, you give the award to whoever does and they make a speech. It’s not a big deal, (Y/N), don’t worry too much about it.”

I wished I could’ve just let my fear rush from my body, but it was still there. Before I could say anything else, the lights went down and the show officially started.

I tried to just sit and enjoy the show but it was hard when I had my upcoming presenter role looming over me. Of course, it was one of the last awards of the show, so I had to sit there and let my nerves build as the suspense for the winner of the award grew as well.

Every now and then Marshall would give my hand another squeeze and I would calm down for that split second. Having him by my side helped a lot, but every time I remembered that he might be the recipient of the award I became nervous again.

Finally, it was my time to take the stage. They passed me the envelope with the name of the winner and motioned for me to take the stage. I plastered a smile on my face as my name was called and I walked onto the stage. I hoped the cameras couldn’t pick up my shaking, and I really hoped my shaking wouldn’t make my voice sound as bad as I feared it would.

“This award can only go to the best of the best,” I started, glancing at the prompter in front of me to make sure I was saying the words correctly. “The person who worked the hardest and had the best payoff with their release. The competition this year is fierce, and it was hard to narrow it down to just these five artists, as there have been so many amazing works of art released this past year. It has been an even harder choice to pick who of them all is the best, although I might be bias in saying I’ve already chosen my favorite.”

The audience chuckled at my improved addition to the speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here are your nominees.”

I watched the video that played of the nominated artists. My heart skipped a beat when Marshall came up, a few clips from the music videos he had filmed playing in a short montage. He had worked so hard on his latest album, every part of me hoped that he would be the winner I was announcing.

As the video came to an end, I turned back to face the audience (and the cameras) to announce the winner.

“And the award goes to...”

I tried not to let my slight fear show as I fumbled with the envelope for a moment. I started to worry that I wouldn’t even be able to open it and completely embarrass myself on live TV. I tried not to sigh with relief when the seal perfectly popped open and I was able to pull the card out. The smile on my face had to have given away the winner before the words were even out of my mouth.

“Eminem!”

The crowd cheered and stood from their seats. A camera found Marshall, who was standing from his seat and hugging Paul and Denaun before making his way to the stage. I couldn’t help but smile proudly at him as I extended the award I was holding - his award - to him.

I was taken by surprise when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. It was brief since he had an award to accept, but it was enough to make my head spin, the way his kisses usually did.

When he pulled away I was still so stunned that I almost forgot to give him his award. I could see him trying to hold back a laugh as he took it from my hands and turned to the microphone.

“Thank you,” he said to the still cheering audience. For a minute I forgot there was anyone else in the room, and realizing so many people had watched that kiss made my cheeks heat up. “I’d like to thank my manager, Paul, who for some reason still backs me with everything I do and produce even when it pushes the boundaries a little too much. I also want to thank the good Doctor, who has been supporting me since day one and who has always believed in me and gave me this platform to make music and to push the boundaries that Paul has to deal with. My daughters, my biggest inspirations. And of course, I’d like to thank the beautiful lady who presented this award to me tonight. I may not show it publicly but I am my happiest when I’m with you and I cannot thank you enough for that.”

I blinked away the tears forming in my eyes as I clapped along with the audience. The music started playing as Marshall offered me his arm to walk me off the stage. I felt like I was floating on cloud nine as we walked down the stairs and backstage, away from the cameras and the thousands of people watching us, both in person and on TV.

We were greeted backstage by other presenters and winners who were still mingling and celebrating their wins. Marshall was congratulated and a few of the other presenters told me how well I did with my presentation. I was proud of myself for getting through it, but I was more proud that I didn’t go completely airheaded after Marshall kissed me.

When we finally got away from the large amount of people, Marshall pulled me in for another kiss.

“So much for keeping it lowkey, huh?” I teased when I pulled away.

“I was caught up in the moment,” he said with a shrug, but I wasn’t completely convinced.

“That speech was uncharacteristically sweet,” I said. “For your public persona anyways. I figured you’d keep it short and sweet and maybe get the show into a little bit of trouble with an unplanned curse word.”

He chuckled. “Well normally that would be how things go. But I meant what I said during my speech: you make me the happiest I’ve ever been. When you said my name I just couldn’t help but feel this unfamiliar surge of happiness and excitement at winning. You know I don’t care about these types of award shows, but the fact that you presented this award to me made me care for just a second. I know I’ll be the talking point for the next few days because of this, but right now I don’t care all that much.”

Tears were welling in my eyes again as I pulled him back to me. “Shut up, you’re gonna ruin my makeup.”

His laugh filled my ears as he pulled me for another kiss. The happiness he said he felt coursed through my veins too. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in a moment like this.

When he pulled away he put his arm around me again and started to walk towards the door. “Let’s get out of here. I think I wanna celebrate my win with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

I smiled brightly at him. “I like the sound of that.”

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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jingyismom · 3 years ago

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Thanks everyone for the prompts! I decided to try and knock these all out in one go:

@thegirlwhotrashcans: remember, you asked for it. au, nobody dies, wwx and yanli bodyswap. they're married to lwj and jzx. 100% crack. bonus points if jin zixuan completely loses his shit and lwj looks very calm but loses his sh*t after everything is back to normal

@alightbuthappypen: Competency kink! One or both of them (when I say 'them' I mean wangxian obvs, I know what I'm about) getting hot and bothered about the other being amazing. On a nighthunt maybe? Or anywhere else that strikes your fancy!

@hearteyeswangji: WRITE MORE P*RN

I think I can manage that. With a few tweaks, accidental seriousness, and broad, ridiculous fix-its tacked on. I have no idea how long this might be. Let’s try it in installments? I’ll reblog and add on as I go. Maybe it’ll be fun. We’ll find out.

Disclaimer that this is just gonna go for it with no revising and no beta readers, so pls do not hold me to any conceivable standard of coherency thx

WILL INCLUDE: wangxian, xuanli, let jyl and lwj be friends agenda, canon divergence, fix-it, everybody lives, arranged marriage, bodyswap, light angst, getting together, Attempts at Comedy, eventual (light?) wangxian smut

The Sunshot Campaign has just been won. Everyone goes over to Jin Guangshan’s house after the Nightless City banquet, to Negotiate Stuff, and some hasty political marriages happen resulting in Xuanli Wedded Bliss and Wangxian Un-confessed Wedded Tension. Then, suddenly...a curse befalls our brave heroes.

Wei Wuxian wakes suddenly, feeling odd. He’s sleeping on his stomach for one thing, which is not his usual, but he feels warm and comfortable enough that he doesn’t think it strange. But then there is the scent of peonies and gardenias, which is both familiar and alien, somehow. It makes him open his eyes.

Which is when he sees the hand before him on the bolster. It is slender and elegant. Small. Pale. Familiar? Wearing a jade bangle. He pushes himself up a bit, startled, only to see the hand move when he does.

The hand. Is his hand. He stares at it. The shock of it, coupled with the early hour, leave his mind working very slowly.

At length, he becomes aware of an odd weight across his back, which then shifts. Wei Wuxian turns.

He is met with the sleepy, moon-eyed stare of one Jin Zixuan, still cradling him in his arms.

“What the fuck,” says Wei Wuxian. His voice is. Soft. And high.

He would think this was all some messed-up dream if not for the fact that his dreams of late have all been messed up in an entirely different way. He’s also certain, in an odd, detached way, that he never would have imagined the battle scars that mar Jin Zixuan’s distressingly visible skin.

Jin Zixuan’s brow furrows, and he blinks. “A-Li?”

“...What the fuck.”

~~~

When Lan Wangji wakes at his customary hour, he is just slightly more tired than usual. The coverlet over him is oddly heavy, but he does not give it any thought until light from the rising sun slips over an unfamiliar sill and into his eyes. His entire body goes tense as he remembers.

Jinlintai. The long hours of debate, of negotiation. The hasty marriages.

He sits up in his strange bed and turns. There, in the bed opposite, is Wei Ying’s sleeping form. Close, yet still distant. Safe, at least.

Lan Wangji relaxes, and takes a breath. It was a near thing, keeping the sects from demanding more and more from Wei Ying, from treating him like a criminal instead of the hero he is. But somehow, Jiang Wanyin and Xiongzhang ended up on the same page, defending him, working tirelessly toward a compromise with the more critical parties. And now Lan Wangji has the dubious honor of ‘keeping Wei Ying in check,’ as Yao-zongzhu so inelegantly put it, through marriage.

A strictly political marriage. A convenient solution. To bind them together, to keep Wei Ying tied under the umbrella of Lan Wangji’s rigid honor.

It is unclear, as of yet, if Wei Ying resents this arrangement. He has not been himself since Nightless City, and the destruction of Wen Ruohan’s forces. First his long coma, then a lingering tiredness that he has not seemed able to shake, which dampens his normally-vivid expressions of feeling.

Lan Wangji is worried. But this, at least, Wei Ying has made clear is unwelcome. He seems to want to pretend that nothing has changed. Not about himself, and not between the two of them. Lan Wangji has done his best to honor his wishes, despite everything.

Now, he rises and dresses before sinking into his morning meditation. It is still strange to do so fully dressed, weighed down by the propriety required for the public, but it has felt necessary, now that Wei Ying shares chambers with him. A physical manifestation of the barrier between them, more important than ever now that they are, bizarrely, married.

Before his meditation is finished, he hears Wei Ying stir. It is unusual for him to wake so early. Lan Wangji’s eyes snap open, immediately searching him for signs of pain.

Wei Wuxian turns over, then goes very still. He sits bolt upright, searching the bed with wild eyes, then turns them on the room at large. When they land on Lan Wangji, he curls in on himself, the fingers of one hand tightening at the collars of his sleeping robe, clutching it closed.

“La—Lan-er-gongzi?”

His voice is oddly breathy, and his eyes...they are wide with confusion, with just the slightest tinge of fear. Lan Wangji is struck nearly senseless by the term of address, aberrant in Wei Ying’s mouth.

“What is wrong?”

Searching the room again, Wei Wuxian moves toward the edge of the bed with a strangely graceful modesty. It looks alien on his long limbs. “My...my husband. Where…?”

The word jolts through Lan Wangji’s entire body. He has never heard Wei Ying say it before. He has...wanted to hear it. Dearly, he realizes suddenly. But it sounds wrong. Distressed. Everything Wei Ying says sounds wrong.

“Wei Ying,” he says.

Wei Ying’s eyes snap to his. “A-Xian? Where is he? Is he with A-Xuan? Are they alright?”

Lan Wangji blinks at him, uncomprehending, for several seconds. Then he begins to understand.

“You are not—”

The doors to their chambers burst open, and Jiang Yanli rushes in. The tasteful purple and gold robes she has adopted in the few days since the weddings are loose, uncharacteristically askew—not impreprietous, but verging on it. She spots Lan Wangji and her stormy expression clears.

“Lan Zhan,” she says, and her shoulders droop.

Lan Wangji blinks at her, thrown by her use of this name, then glances at Wei Ying, who has gone completely still, his mouth open in a small, shocked ‘o.’ Jiang Yanli follows his gaze and freezes.

Just then, Jin Zixuan comes barreling into the room, significantly more unkempt than his wife. He has not even tied back his hair.

“A-Li,” he implores, “what’s happened? We can’t just go barging into our guests’,” he pauses, and bows awkwardly, hastily, to Lan Wangji and Wei Ying in turn, “rooms like this. Please,” he takes her arm, but she shakes him off.

She’s still staring at Wei Ying. “Sh...Shijie?”

Wei Ying startles, and looks down at himself. He holds out his arms, his hands, and looks at those too. Then he looks up at Jiang Yanli. “A-Xian?”

“Shijie,” Jiang Yanli says, and slumps over to the bed, embracing Wei Ying.

“A-Li,” hisses Jin Zixuan, scandalized.

Lan Wangji glances at Jin Zixuan’s wife embracing his own husband on the bed, and rises. He walks briskly past them all to shut the door. Then he returns.

“Wei Ying,” he says again. Jiang Yanli looks up at him.

It is obvious, now that he has realized it. Her face, animated by his personality. The soft warmth of her eyes sharpened just so. The deliberately graceless way she threw herself—himself—into Wei Ying’s—no, Jiang Yanli’s—arms.

Lan Wangji takes a deep breath. “Is this a curse?”

“Yes,” Wei Ying says with Jiang Yanli’s face, but his own certainty.

“How can we break it?” Lan Wangji asks.

“I”m not sure, not yet. I need to try a few things—or—having the original curse would be safer.” He looks at his sister in his own body. “I...don’t really want to experiment with this.”

Jiang Yanli tsks and bumps his shoulder a little too forcefully, jostling Wei Ying in her currently slight form. “Vain,” she says, teasing.

“Shijieee,” he whines. It sounds bizarre in Jiang Yanli’s voice. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

“I know,” Jiang Yanli says, soothing.

“Do you feel alright?” Wei Ying goes on, urgent.

“Perfectly alright, now that you’re both here,” she says, smiling at the newcomers in turn.

Something sharply acidic surges in Lan Wangji’s stomach at such a look on Wei Ying’s face, directed at...Jin Zixuan.

“Really, though,” Wei Ying presses, “any nausea? Dizziness? Pain? You’re not worried?”

“Not at all. Our A-Xian will figure it out.”

Lan Wangji watches as the appearance of Wei Ying’s knuckle affectionately brushes Jiang Yanli’s nose.

Strange. It is all...so strange.

“If—”

“What is happening?” Jin Zixuan interrupts.

All three of them look at him. He stares between them, wild-eyed and desperately askew. Lan Wangji has never considered him to be particularly slow on the uptake, but he supposes allowances must be made for the stress of waking up with a stranger in one’s bed.

He does not care to investigate the perverse pang of jealousy he feels at the thought.

“A-Xuan, it’s me,” Jiang Yanli says. Jin Zixuan stares at her in Wei Ying’s body, uncomprehending. She goes on slowly, but not unkindly. “A-Xian and I have been cursed into each other’s bodies. He’s in there, and I’m in here.”

Her husband blinks several times, very quickly. Lan Wangji recognizes the moment it sinks in by the deep flush that rises across his entire face, and is certain he does not wish to know what precisely inspired it.

Jin Zixuan takes an involuntary half-step back, then forward again, as he speaks with renewed urgency. “Why has this happened? Can it be undone?”

“Great questions,” Wei Ying says, falsely encouraging. Lan Wangji exchanges a glance with him, and it almost feels natural, to share such a thing with either Wei Ying or Jiang Yanli. “Someone was clearly either targeting me—that’s Wei Wuxian, that’s me, in here—or you...whom you know to be Jin Zixuan. I hope.”

Jin Zixuan turns a deeper shade of red. “Obviously,” he bites out. “But why?”

Wei Ying rolls his eyes dramatically. It is not something Lan Wangji ever imagined Jiang Yanli doing.

“We don’t know yet, but we will once we find and question the person responsible,” Wei Ying says. Jiang Yanli grips his arm suddenly. Wei Ying looks at her. “And yes, it can be undone. Of course it can. I’ll figure it out.”

“Cast a rebound,” Lan Wangji says, brisk. The more quickly they are done with this, the better.

Wei Ying’s face falls. “Ah,” he says, “well, we…”

“My cultivation is too weak for him to reliably use,” Jiang Yanli says suddenly. “And I’m not very good at the method, I’m afraid.”

Lan Wangji nods. Steps forward. Then hesitates. “If the curse was cast in such a way, one of you may end up in the caster’s body. And they in yours.”

They all look at Jiang Yanli. Her expression grows grim. “Alright,” she says, then looks to Lan Wangji. There is something steely in her expression that is familiar on Wei Ying’s face. “Thank you for the warning. Go ahead.”

Lan Wangji hesitates only a moment longer, expecting protests from the other two. But Wei Ying is wearing a small, knowing smile, and Jin Zixuan merely nods at her, reassuring. Lan Wangji senses his esteem for the Jin heir rising at such solid trust in his wife.

He steps forward and casts the rebound. They all hold their breath.

Wei Ying glances around, his wry expression entirely foreign on Jiang Yanli’s face. “Anything?”

“No,” says Jiang Yanli.

Wei Ying sighs. “More work for us, then.”

“A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says, taking gentle hold of his wrist. “You know what this means.”

“Ah?”

“You’ll have to be me.”

“Ah. No, I—”

“A-Xian.”

Wei Ying scratches his head, a not-at-all ladylike gesture. “Or we could just stay in here and let these two investigate?”

The smile Jiang Yanli turns on him is tender, and knowing, and indulgent. “I’d like to see you try to sit still when there’s a puzzle to solve.”

He sighs. “Alright. But you have to be me, too.”

She nods, and theatrically slouches into a sprawling, sloppy posture. Wei Ying laughs, his head thrown back, a hand on his stomach. Jin Zixuan turns around, looking almost ill.

Lan Wangji understands, and he doesn’t. It is dizzying, and distinctly wrong-looking, to see both of them this way. Yet there is also something endearing about it. About the parts of them that do overlap, and fit into each other better than one would expect.

“A-Xuan,” Jiang Yanli calls softly, noticing her husband’s distress.

Lan Wangji gets the distinct impression that that tone in Wei Ying’s voice is not helping the situation.

“Jin-gongzi,” he says. “It would be best for all of us to go about our days as normal, and not to arouse suspicion. Wei Ying sleeps late, and will not be missed for the morning. Jin-shao-furen may claim mild illness until the afternoon. But you and I must behave as normal. There are still the other sects to host.”

“Yes,” Jin Zixuan says absently. He runs a hand over his face. “Yes. You’re right. A-Li—” he turns and looks at the pair of them on the bed, and pauses. He shakes his head as if to clear it. “I’ll go back and dress. Join me when—or—Wei—” he stops. “I will be attending my duties. Please let me know what else I can do.”

“Remember to act natural,” Jiang Yanli says. “When A-Xian joins you later, try to look less like a roasted tomato, hmm?”

Jin Zixuan’s mouth twists into a wry smile, and he nods at the floor, then flees the room. Jiang Yanli and Wei Ying turn their eyes to Lan Wangji.

“I shall also depart,” he says. He circles his arms to bow to Jiang Yanli, but Wei Ying stands and pulls him over toward the door. Lan Wangji lets him, and tries not to pull away from the improprietous touch from a married lady.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, hushed and urgent. “I’m not...you don’t think I’m hurting her, am I? Just by being in here? Can you sense any resentment?”

Lan Wangji feels something tighten in his chest. Wei Ying has not let Lan Wangji so much as examine his pulse since he roused from his coma, but the idea that he is so constantly steeped in resentment as to cause worry that his very soul may be harmful...is distressing. He takes hold of his slender wrist carefully. It is still Jiang Yanli’s body, and he will treat it with the respect it is owed.

“I cannot,” he says. The only energy in Jiang Yanli’s body is generated by her own small but steady golden core. “I sense nothing that may be harmful.”

Wei Ying lets out a relieved breath. “Alright. But, um. What about the other way? Is her...is my body harming her?”

Lan Wangji turns to go back and perform the same examination, but Wei Ying stops him. “No, that’s alright. I’ll. We’ll just get this over with, and we can. Between the two of us, we can fix whatever...whatever damage I do.”

Lan Wangji stares at him, but Wei Ying refuses to meet his eyes. At length, he nods. “We can.”

“Alright. Ah, thanks. You should go.”

Lan Wangji goes.

#my fic #prompt fic #the untamed fanfic #lan wangji #wei wuxian #jiang yanli #jin zixuan #i don't know why i bother this is NOT gonna show up in tags #i'm not gonna go through and censor things. i'm just. not gonna #also this post is...so ugly #will anyone even read it??? who knows elksfdjns #let's have some fun

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dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

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Greater Than Gold

Pairing: Dream / Clay x f!baker!reader

Summary: [Robin Hood-inspired!AU] Dream steals from the rich and gives to the poor, but it seems he’s stolen your heart, too.

Warnings: minimal cursing + one scene with slight violence

Word Count: 11.7k

A/N: this idea came to me in a fever dream at two in the morning a few days back, and i just knew i had to write it. can you tell i like fantasy au’s? posted in commemoration of reaching 200 followers so quickly (love you all!) and for dream’s recently uploaded 4v1 finale :) i hope you enjoy!

You woke to the sound of chirping birds and the sun’s warm rays splashing onto your face.

With a soft groan, you rolled over, a hand reaching up to muss at your hair and rub the sleep from your eyes. Slowly, you brought yourself forward into a sitting position, blinking as you cast your gaze out the window. The sun was just beginning to rise over the rolling hills in the distance, washing the kingdom’s capital in a golden sheen. You swung your feet off your bed with a smile, breathing in deeply.

Another sunrise, another morning.

Your morning routine was almost always the same. You would stretch as you stood up, straightening out your back and letting out a sigh of relief as you did so. Then, you would fling open your bedroom door and slip own the stairs, skipping the last two and landing on the floor with a small thud. You quickly rushed over to the kitchen to grab the dough you had made the night before, slipping it into the stone oven with your trusty paddle.

Rushing back upstairs, you took a mental note of the time before walking over to your closet to get dressed for the day. You slipped on a simple dress that you wouldn’t mind getting a little messy and pulled on a pair of boots. Next, it was onto your hair. You spun over to your vanity, picking up a hairbrush and running it through your hair a few times.

Just then, a knock sounded at your balcony window. You froze, your fingers twitching around your hairbrush as you listened carefully.

Four short knocks. One long knock. Two short ones.

A giddy smile spread across your face. How could you ever forget your favourite part of your morning routine?

You set your hairbrush back on the vanity and crossed your bedroom to your balcony, opening the lock and flinging the door open. There on the railing sat a man wearing a viridian hooded cloak, his back facing you. The moment he heard you step outside, he turned, revealing the white, smiling mask covering his face.

“Clay,” you breathed, “you’re here.”

He quickly raised a finger and held it to his lips, hushing you. “Shh!”

You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Oops. I forgot. Sorry, Cl—I mean, Dream.” You couldn’t see his face, but you just knew that if you could, he would be frowning.

“Alright,” you huffed, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him onto his feet. “Let’s get you inside, already.”

Clay stumbled forward, looming over you as he followed you inside. You were quick to lock the balcony door behind you, double checking to make sure it was closed all the way. When you turned around again, Clay had his arms crossed over his chest, his foot tapping incessantly against your floorboards.

Oh boy.

“[Y/N],” he sighed, “you know you can’t call me that when I’m outside! Someone might hear and who knows what could happen after that.”

You winced at his tone. “I know. I’m really sorry, Clay. It’s just force of habit.”

He let out yet another sigh, but this one wasn’t full of frustration. Uncrossing his arms, he reached over and ruffled your hair. “I know you didn’t mean anything bad by it. Please just remember for next time, okay?”

You swatted his hand away from your hair, giggling. “Alright, alright, I promise.” You looked up at him, frowning at the sight of his mask, his hood half covering the top. “And let me take that off, would you? I miss your face.”

He nodded and straightened up, extending his full height. “Okay. I’m waiting.”

For a few moments, the two of you stared at each other. When he still hadn’t moved after another a bit, you groaned. “Come here,” you muttered under your breath.

You could almost hear him grin when he spoke. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said,” you repeated, a little louder this time, “come here.”

“Sorry, could you say that agai—”

You were running out of patience. “Come. Here.”

“Just one more ti—”

“Oh, just get down here already!” you shouted, stomping your foot.

He cackled as you whined at him, clutching at his stomach. “Haha! You’re so shooort,” he mocked. “You’re tiny.”

You glared at him. “It’s not my fault you’re built like a beanpole, my god.”

He held a hand up to his ear. “You called?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Clay.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, relenting and bending over. You rolled your eyes but smiled, reaching up. You first pulled back his hood, revealing his dirty blond hair. You ran a hand teasingly through his golden locks before letting it drop to the back of his mask, unbuckling the clasp holding the straps together. With a gentle, careful touch, you pulled the white mask away from his face, revealing his emerald green eyes and the splatter of freckles across his cheeks.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice slightly rasping.

“Hi,” you whispered back, entranced by his gaze.

He reached down and pulled the mask from your hand, letting it drop to the floor with a clatter before he wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you into an warm embrace, squeezing you tight and securely to his chest. You snuggled into his green cloak, inhaling the scent of fresh pine. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you simply took in each other’s presences. It was rare for the two of you to share a quiet moment, and you were going to relish in every second of it.

“I missed you,” you sighed into his chest, your voice coming out muffled.

“I missed you, too,” he murmured back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. There was a slight pause. Then, he pulled back a bit, placing his hands on your shoulders as he spoke again. “Why do you always act so surprised when you see me in the mornings? You know I always come by to say hello.”

You stiffened, averting your gaze from his. “It’s—it’s nothing, really.”

Clay frowned, pressing a hand to your cheek. “Hey,” he said gently, “look at me.”

You shook your head, subconsciously leaning into the warmth of his palm. He let out a quiet sigh. “Please, love? Will you please look at me?”

Your breath hitched at the pet name, and you finally relented, turning your head slightly so that your eyes met his. You pretended not to see the small smirk on his face at the sight of your fidgety gaze. He always knew how to make you flustered.

“I...” You took a breath, feeling something sting behind your eyes. “I get scared. That one day you won’t come by.” Your eyes began to water. “That one day something will happen to you and I’ll be all alone.”

As quick as it had come, Clay’s smile vanished. The look in his eyes softened and he leaned down to be eye-level with you. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” He brushed his thumb over your cheek, just where a tiny, single tear had escaped. “I’m sorry that I make you feel this way.”

You placed your hand on top of where his lay still pressed against your cheek, your gaze falling to the wooden floorboards. “No, it’s—it’s not your fault. I’m just scared that I’d be a wreck without you.”

Clay leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he said once more, so quietly you almost missed it. “Look at me, love.”

You raised your watery gaze to his emerald one once more, just in time for him to surge forward and press his lips to yours. Almost instantaneously, you melted like chocolate, your eyelids fluttering shut as you sank into his touch. Kissing Clay sent shivers running down your spine, yet it also felt like home. You didn’t think you could ever get tired of kissing him.

A moment later he pulled back, a soft smile gracing his lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, his words reserved just for you to hear. “Not without you. Never without you, love.”

You nodded your head, wiping away any stray tears you may have had. “Thanks, Clay.” Suddenly, you were reminded of your bread in the oven downstairs. You took a quick glance at the clock, and nearly collapsed in relief. You were just in time.

“C’mon,” you said, tugging at his arm insistently, “the bread’s almost ready, and I have to open up shop soon. People will want their morning loaves.”

Clay hummed, his hand falling away from your face as he let you pull him downstairs and into your kitchen. “Open up shop, you say? Do you think you could spare me any scraps for my breakfast?”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re really here,” you said, feigning annoyance as you grabbed your baking paddle once more, this time using it to slide the now freshly baked bread from the oven.

“Of course!” he chimed, hoisting himself up to sit on the counter. “A man’s gotta eat to be able to stay on the run from the palace guards, y’know.”

You sighed as you slid the loaf of bread onto a platter. “I know, I know.” Setting down your paddle, you opened up one of your cabinets and pulled out a few slices of bread on a plate. “That’s why I have this for you.”

Clay’s eyes lit up as he graciously snatched the bread from you, immediately stuffing one of the slices into his mouth. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he said in between bites. “I love you so much.”

You jumped a little at his words, nearly dropping the loaf platter in your hands. Even after all this time, you still got embarrassed when he said it out of nowhere like that. “I love you too, Clay.”

You spent the next few minutes placing some bread in your shop’s display case and sliding some more dough into the oven while chatting with Clay. You lived for these quiet, domestic moments with him—these moments where you could pretend that you were just a humble baker in love with a normal, ordinary man.

But of course, Clay could never just be ordinary. Oh no, he had dreams far greater than that.

And you loved him for that, too.

“It’s time,” he said abruptly, startling you slightly. “I have to go.”

You nodded resolutely, slipping your hand into his. “I’ll see you off.”

In the past, he would have insisted that you stay downstairs, but he’s learned over time that you were far too stubborn for that. The two of you strode up the stairs to your bedroom once more, walking toward your bed with a slight sadness in your gait.

“You’ll come by in the morning again, won’t I?” you asked, looking up at him as he picked up his white mask from where it lay on the floor.

“For sure,” he said, sending you a reassuring smile. “And I’ll be here the morning after that, and the one after that, and the one after that, an—”

You snorted, swatting at his arm. “I get it, you doofus.” Your grin softened. “Thanks for saying that.”

He turned to lean down, pressing his lips to yours in a quick peck. “Anything for you, love,” he said, sliding his mask onto his face.

You smiled at him, walking him over to your balcony window. He slipped open the lock, pulling the door open to reveal the newly blue sky. People were beginning to head outside now, making way for the new day. He took a step outside, glancing over his shoulder at you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

It was never goodbye with Clay—he refused to say goodbye, because goodbye always meant there was a chance you wouldn’t see him again, and he refused to believe in a future without you.

You waved. “See you tomorrow, Dream.”

He let out a small wheeze as he leapt from your balcony, laughing as he landed on a nearby roof and sprinting to the next. Down below on the bustling streets, you heard someone yell.

“Oh my god, it’s Dream!”

“Someone call the guards!”

“He’s here, again!”

You grinned to yourself as you snapped your window shut.

Yup, it was just a another morning.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Richardson!” you called out, waving goodbye to the man crossing the street. “Please tell your husband I hope he gets better soon!”

Mr. Richardson turned, a wide grin on his face as he clutched the brown bag in hands a little closer to his chest. “I will!” he shouted back. “I’ll be sure to bring him with me when he feels up to it!”

You watched as he turned the corner down the street, disappearing from view. You lowered your arm, smiling to yourself. I can’t wait.

You glanced up at the sky, shielding your gaze from the searing midday sun. It was about noon now. You supposed you could take your lunch break. Turning on your heel, you strode back inside your beloved bakery. You took a look around your bakery, eyeing the loaves in the display case. There were a few pies sitting up front, but those were strictly for customers.

“Do I really want to eat bread again, today?” you muttered to yourself. You quirked your lips. It wouldn’t hurt to go out and grab something to eat for once, right?

Before you could change your mind, you hastily rushed up the stairs to grab your woven basket from the shelf and a few gold coins from the locked chest in your bedroom. You stepped outside, sticking a note on the ‘open’ sign that said “Out for lunch—back in 30!” before locking the door shut.

It was a beautiful day, you realized as you made your way down the busy street. The merchants must have arrived the other day, since you could see numerous people rushing this way and that, scrolls of inventory lists clutched between their fingers and negotiations echoing all around you. You ducked your head under someone’s arm, dodging a rolling stray cart as you strode toward the city square.

What should I have for lunch? Your eyes darted this way and that. There’s soup, sausages, and... Your eyes lit up, and you began to weave your way between the crowds, humming softly to yourself as you made your way over to your favourite market stall.

“Hello, Rose!” you greeted, waving at the woman standing at the stall front, her back turned to you.

At the sound of your voice, she turned, her face lighting up with a wide grin. “[Y/N]!” she cried warmly. “It feels like it’s been ages since I last saw you!”

You chucked, flustered by her enthusiasm. “It hasn’t been that long. Only three weeks.”

“‘Only three weeks’?” she parroted. “Are you hearing yourself? Three weeks is practically forever!” She leaned over the stall counter. “Let me tell you, dearie, if I went three weeks without seeing my fiancé, I’d damn near lose my mind.”

You laughed at her and her theatrics. “I’m sure you’d survive just fine.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point, [Y/N]. Surviving and living are two very different things. You would understand if you were in love.” She squinted at you. “Speaking of which, when will you find yourself a man? You’re a lovely, beautiful girl with more than enough charm and spunk.”

Your cheeks burned. “I-I, um. That’s—” You coughed. “Um.”

She cocked her brow. “Yes? Spit it out!”

You buried your face in your hands. You didn’t want to lie to Rose of all people, but what in the world were you supposed to tell her? You couldn’t just...

“I, uh,” you blurted without thinking, “I’m seeing someone.”

Oh no.

Rose’s eyes grew wide and she nearly sent you flying to the ground with how hard she shook you. “You’re seeing someone?!” she yelled. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” She released your shoulders with one last shake, leaving you stumbling to regain your balance. “Tell me all about him.”

You twiddled with your fingers. “He’s... he’s kind,” you began, “and funny. Really funny. We’ve been friends for a long time before, too. He’s got a bit of an arrogant streak, but he’s actually really humble. He always makes me smile, and he loves to tease me.” You giggled. “Sometimes it’s just not fair how smooth he is.”

She looked at you smugly. “Sounds like you know him quite well.” She leaned across the counter. “What’s he look like? And his name? What’s his name?”

Panic shot through you. You didn’t want to reveal too much about Clay—what if you put him in danger? “We, uh, we’re not that serious yet,” you fibbed, “so I don’t want you to get your hopes up or anything. Seriously.”

Rose frowned, sinking down in disappointment. “Aw, phooey. That’s a shame. Well, if you don’t wanna talk about him, then we won’t.” Before you could open your mouth to respond, she waved her hand. “Moving past that, what are you here for, today?”

You held up your small pouch of coins. “I was hoping to have some of your famous rabbit stew for lunch today.”

Rose laughed, turning to grab you a wooden bowl from her stall shelf. “I’d hardly call it famous, but I appreciate your love, dearie.”

You gaped at her, shaking your head in disbelief. “Your rabbit stew is the best thing in the whole marketplace, I swear! It’s legendary. Even the king must know about its existence by now.”

She pointed to herself. “Me? Legendary? You flatter me far too much, [Y/N].” Scooping some stew into your bowl, she sent you an inquisitive smile. “But you know who is legendary?”

You raised an eyebrow at her, pulling out a coin from your pouch and slipping it across the stall table. “Who?”

Rose handed you the bowl of rabbit stew with a spoon, tilting her head towards a poster on the wall next to her and speaking lowly. “Dream.”

You stiffened, your eyes darting to the poster. Sure as day, there was a picture of Dream’s smiling mask lying smack dab in the center of the page. Printed across the top in bold, black letters was the word “WANTED”. And just underneath his portrait...

“Dead or alive. $20,000 reward.”

You resisted the urge to shiver. “Y-Yeah,” you said slowly, sticking your spoon into the stew. “He sure is legendary, huh?”

Rose nodded. “Seriously. Since when else have you ever heard of a vigilante thief who steals from the rich and gives to the poor? It’s like... like...”

“Like?” you offered.

She gestured vaguely. “Like... morally questionable charity!”

You snorted. “That’s one way to put it, I guess.”

She leaned toward you, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But between you and me, I think he’s doing something pretty good for those struggling folks out there. Someone’s gotta help them, and it certainly isn’t going to be the king.”

You smiled at her words, nodding subtly in agreement. Despite having been branded a criminal by the kingdom’s nobility and royalty, a good majority of the general population loved Dream. His methods were most definitely questionable, but he had never hurt anyone for real, despite more than looking and acting the part. He held the torch of hope that no one else seemed to be willing to take on themselves, and they adored him for that. You did, too.

“Anyway,” Rose continued, speaking normally now, “did you hear him this morning? He caused quite the ruckus.”

Your lips twitched, but you quickly forced your face back into an expression of indifference, hiding your amusement with another spoonful of rabbit stew. “Did he now?”

“Oh, you should have seen the chaos!” She spun around dramatically, her arms flying out. “He must have taken at least two chests’ worth of gold with him! He was gone before anyone knew what was happening. It was insane. George couldn’t even get close to him.”

You furrowed your brows. You didn’t recognize that name. “George?”

Rose blinked at you. “You haven’t heard? The king got four new guards recently—special ones, apparently.” She snorted. “They don’t seem like much so far though, not with this morning’s performance.”

You felt a tinge of anxiety fill you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust that Dream could handle it, but you were still worried. Hell, you had every right to be worried. “Tell me about them. It feels like I’ve missed everything.”

“So,” she began, “there’s—”

All of a sudden, the endless wave of chatter surrounding you seemed to die down. Rose stopped, and you turned to face the rest of the square. Everyone seemed to have grown quiet, keeping to the sides of the market square and warily eyeing the main entrance. You followed their gaze, your eyes widening.

At the front entrance was a large carriage, manned by four chestnut horses. There was a large wagon cart carrying large cloth sacks attached to the carriage’s behind. Flanking the cart stood four men, each wearing a different colour. They looked to be armed to the teeth, bows and arrow quivers strapped to their backs with swords sheathed at their sides.

Something clicked in your head, and you turned back to Rose. “Let me guess—those are the new guards.”

Rose nodded. “Yep,” she confirmed, popping the last letter. She pointed to the man in blue, a brunet with a pair of white goggles resting on his forehead. “That one there is George,” she explained, “the cautious. He’s always careful when hunting Dream down, trying to minimize property damage and all that.” You hummed, following along.

“Unfortunately, all that caution is for nothing because of Sapnap—” She pointed to the one wearing white, a bandana tied around his forehead to keep his dark hair from hanging in his eyes. “—the wild. He’s kind of just this chaotic mess. He crashes into things a lot, and some stall owners aren’t all too pleased with that. He almost knocked into my stall this morning, and I nearly gave him a good telling off!” You laughed at the thought, imagining Rose yelling at the poor guard.

“He’s not dumb though, don’t get me wrong. But he’s not as smart as Bad, the strategic.” She gestured to the brunet in red. “He’s kind of the leader of the group, and he’s probably gotten the closest to actually touching Dream before.” Your froze at that, your fingers freezing where they were wrapped around the spoon handle. Dream had almost been touched before. The thought didn’t sit well with you.

“Last up,” she said, pointing to the one wearing a cream sweater, “there’s Antfrost, the well-rounded. He’s cautious, but isn’t afraid to get his hands a little dirty, and he’s intelligent in his own right, but not as much as Bad. A lot of the time, he sort of acts like support, shooting from the distance with his bow.” You didn’t like the idea of Dream getting shot at, but you stifled your noise of concern with another mouthful of stew.

“Huh,” you said between chewing. “Why are they following that carriage? Is there someone important inside?”

Rose frowned. “Yeah, it’s the Duke of Sherwood. He’s a merchant who’s notorious for scamming the people he trades with for enormous amounts of wealth. That’s how he got so rich.” She narrowed her eyes. “I think he just got back from another one of his deals. Bet he’s got some crazy valuable stuff in that cart of his. I heard that he’s pretty close with the king, so he probably hired the new guards to protect it.”

Something in you filled with disgust. Scammers were just the worst. They gained their wealth unjustly, and they were easily one of the top reasons why Dream did what he did. You opened your mouth to retort when someone let out a scream.

“Is that Dream?”

Your eyes widened.

You nearly spoke too soon.

Before the guards could properly process what was going on around them, a green-clad figure came flying down from one of the roofs above. Murmurs from the crowd rose up, whispers of his name filling the air. Dream picked up a rock from the ground, tossing it in his hands once before chucking it at Bad. With a satisfying thunk, the stone knocked against Bad’s forehead, and the man let out a yelp.

“Ow!” he cried, rubbing at his forehead. He whirled, glaring at his teammates. “What are you muffins doing? Get him!”

The three other guards suddenly snapped to attention, marked by Sapnap rushing forward with his sword unsheathed. “Dream!” he yelled, his teeth bared menacingly.

Dream didn’t flinch as he dodged Sapnap’s charge, simply stepping to the side with grace before spinning around and raising his foot. Without even an ounce of hesitation, he kicked Sapnap squarely in the back, sending him flying into the alleyway behind him. Sapnap tumbled forward, landing squarely facedown inside a barrel, his sword lying on the ground a few feet behind him. Dream leaned forward and knocked the sword into the air, watching it flip around once before catching it by the handle.

The sound of a bow firing suddenly filled the air, and Dream quickly ducked. An arrow whizzed just above his head, embedding itself in the wall where he was standing just milliseconds prior. He turned, the eyes of his mask making contact with those of Antfrost, who had climbed to the top of the carriage with his bow in hand.

“You can’t run now, Dream!”

Dream’s gaze darted to his sides. To his left stood George, and to his right was Bad. Behind him, he could hear Sapnap stringing his bow, and Antfrost was still perched on top of the carriage, bow drawn. They had him cornered.

You felt like you were about to faint.

Biting your lip nervously, you could practically see the gears in Dream’s head whirring as he stood there, surrounded on every side. Without warning, he abruptly darted forward, sword in his hands. You watched in a panic as Bad and George darted after him, Antfrost letting another arrow fly.

All of a sudden, Dream changed directions, flying toward George. The panic in George’s eyes was practically tangible as Dream knocked the sword out of his hands and stepped behind him. With one hand, he easily grabbed the shorter man’s arms and pinned them to his back. With the other, he tossed Sapnap’s sword behind him. In the blink of an eye, he was pulling out a dagger from his boot and holding it up to George’s throat.

It all happened in less than a handful of seconds, and everyone held their breath, thinking the exact same thing.

Holy shit.

“No one move,” Dream said, loud and clear. “If you do, then you know what happens.”

Deep down, you knew that Dream wouldn’t do it. But you also knew very well that he was more than capable of it, and then some.

You watched with bated breath as Antfrost and Bad lowered their weapons, but Sapnap still had his bow aimed at Dream. George opened his mouth and closed it like a fish out of water, clearly struggling for words.

“Dream,” he managed after a few seconds, “you don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, I don’t?” he hummed, holding the dagger a little closer to George’s throat. “It’s totally not like you guys are trying to kill me. Not at all.”

“Dream,” Sapnap shouted from the alleyway, “let him go.” He closed one eye, aiming steadily. “I’ll shoot, I swear.”

Dream chuckled, clearly amused. “You sure you wanna do that, Snapmap? Think carefully, now.”

Fury filled Sapnap’s gaze, and he snarled. “Call me that one more time and we’re gonna have issues.”

“What, Snapmap?”

The arrow went flying. You held back a scream.

Dream expertly stepped to the left, edging slightly closer to the carriage wagon. Holding George in front of him, a hush fell over the crowd as the arrow just barely grazed George’s arm. Sapnap drew another arrow.

“Shoot at me one more time,” Dream said lowly, the amusement vanishing from his voice, “and next time I won’t dodge. Why would I?” He nudged George. “After all, I have my own personal human shield right here.”

Sapnap lowered his bow. Relief welled up in your chest.

Slowly and carefully, Dream made his way over to the carriage, making direct eye contact with each member of the guard every few steps to confirm that their weapons were still lowered. Rather than entering the carriage, where you were almost certain the Duke of Sherwood was cowered in terror, he strode over to the wagon, hopping onto the ledge with his dagger still held against George’s neck.

There was a beat of silence as Dream stood over his grand treasure, five sacks of what was most definitely shining gold coins and gems.

Then Antfrost drew his bow, aiming it directly at Dream’s head.

No—!

But before he could even fire it, Dream hoisted George in his arms and chucked him over at the archer. George and Antfrost let out simultaneous screams as the former smacked into the latter, knocking them both off the carriage and onto the cobblestone ground.

Without pause and still protected by the looming form of the carriage, Dream quickly hauled two of the sacks of wealth into his arms, slinging them over his back. Working quickly, he climbed on top of the carriage, eyes scanning the perimeter for the nearest exit path. While Antfrost and George still lay on the ground, struggling to regain their composure, Bad was already scrambling towards the carriage from the other side of the market square and Sapnap was preparing to fire another arrow.

“Oh my god, get him!” Bad screeched, stumbling over the bodies of his two friends. “Get off the ground, will you?”

“I’m trying!” George cried, knocking Antfrost’s bow from off his head. “You do realize that I was just held hostage, right? Cut me some slack!”

“Doesn’t matter, just get him!” Sapnap screamed, finally shooting.

Dream dodged the arrow with ease, and like a bolt of lightning, he was propelling himself through the air. He landed on a nearby stall roof, pausing for a split second before leaping forward onto the closest roof. Now far out of reach from Bad, he dodged another one of Sapnap’s arrows before sprinting away, the bounty in his hands buckling as he ran, quickly disappearing from view.

You could hardly believe your eyes. This was hardly the first time you had ever seen Dream fight, but this was definitely the most nerve-wracking encounter you had ever had the chance of seeing.

“Bad,” Antfrost heaved, tossing George’s sword over to him, “he went that way!” He pointed east, his face contorted in irritation. “We gotta go! Now!” In a flurry of movement, the four guards began their mad after Dream. It was only a few moments before they too were out of sight.

A heartbeat passed.

Then the silence that had befallen the market square was shattered as everyone began to chatter about the events that had just conspired.

“That was insane! How much do you think he stole?”

“Dream’s never taken an active hostage before, has he?”

“He had to! What else was he going to do? Fight four to one?”

“He probably could.”

“I can’t believe he actually got away!”

You turned to look at Rose, whose jaw was dropped wide open. “Oh. My god,” she breathed in complete and utter disbelief. “That—he’s so cool.”

You laughed. Oh, he was. He really was.

It was then that the carriage door finally moved, opening to reveal the Duke of Sherwood. He was an old, cranky-looking man, his salt and pepper hair marred with a bald patch in front and thin wiry glasses perched on his crooked nose.

“I—” he sputtered, his knees buckling in horror as he gasped at his nearly half-ransacked wagon. “The absolute nerve of that thief! He stole from me, of all people! How dare he? He scammed me!”

Not like you do the same for a living, you thought to yourself in disgust. You have no right to say such a thing.

Shaking your head, you turned away from the duke and let out a sigh of relief. You were just glad that Dream made it out alive and with his treasure in tow. You smiled to yourself. Knowing him, he was going to give it to that orphanage on the south side of town. You had recently heard they were running out of funds to pay for bedding for the children.

Rose’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “I wonder what Dream looks like,” she mused, still gazing at the whining duke. “He’s just so mysterious.”

You looked down at your hands, thinking about how just morning, they had been holding his—big, warm, and perfectly wrapped around yours.

Green eyes. A dazzling smile. A galaxy of freckles.

“He must be handsome,” you said, your lips curling. “I’m sure.”

You yawned, slipping your nightgown over your figure in a sleepy daze. It had most certainly been a long day. You had sold more bread than you had expected and ate some delicious rabbit stew.

Oh, and you also witnessed Dream fight against four people at once.

Yeah. Definitely a long day.

You sat in front of your vanity, picking up your hairbrush from its holder. Running it through your hair, you began to brush out the knots as you thought about the day’s events, staring at the single candle you had sitting next to the mirror. You had been terrified out of your mind when you saw Dream get cornered by the guards. Your heart had leapt into your throat and it almost felt like you couldn’t breathe.

To everyone else, he was either Dream the thief or Dream the vigilante hero, but to you, he was just Clay—

A knock came from your balcony window.

—the love of your life.

You stiffened, your hand freezing halfway through brushing your hair. Clay never came by at night. Holding your breath, you listened.

Four short knocks. One long knock. Two short ones.

Your hairbrush clattered to the ground as you scrambled to your feet.

It looked like your day wasn’t over quite yet.

You were quick to flip open the lock, only fumbling once before you managed to successfully swing the door open. There he sat on your balcony railing, just like he always did. Except this time, instead of the sun framing his head, it was the moon.

“C—” You caught yourself. “Dream?”

He tilted his head at you. “Hi.”

You didn’t hesitate to grab him by the arm and pull him inside, pushing the widow door shut with your leg. “Wh-What are you doing here?” you stammered, your mind was still reeling from the fact that he was standing in front of you at all.

“What?” he said nonchalantly while leaning over you, like this was normal. “I can’t come see my favourite girl?”

You smiled at that, something light and airy bubbling in your chest, but shook your head. “No, it’s not that,” you said, reaching up to unmask him, “it’s just that you only come by in the morning. Before everyone is awake.” You unclasped his mask, pulling it away from his face and tossing it onto your vanity. His green eyes were fond when they met yours, and you felt yourself melt a little.

“Well,” he drawled, grinning slyly, “I got a little present for you, and it just couldn’t wait until morning, so I waited until everyone went to sleep.” His eyes flashed. “Everyone but you.”

You blinked at him, confusion gracing your features. A gift?

He straightened, spinning his finger. “Turn around and close your eyes, okay?” When you just stared at him, he added pleadingly, “It’s a surprise.”

Your lips quirked as you did as he asked, turning around and letting your eyes fall shut. I wonder what it is. It wasn’t often that Clay brought you gifts. Not that he didn’t want to—oh, no. If he could, you had a feeling that Dream wouldn’t hesitate to shower you in literal piles of presents. He just thought that it wouldn’t be right for him to spend the money he stole on himself and his own desires when there were people out here who had far, far less.

You felt him brush your hair away from your neck, something cold falling onto your collarbone. The cogs in your head turned, and then it suddenly clicked.

Is that...?

“Okay,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. “You can open your eyes, now.”

You blinked, your vision readjusting to the brightness of the room before you looked down. You were right. Around your neck delicately lay a necklace. The chain was a stunning sterling silver, and in the center hung a small emerald pendant—the same shade as Clay’s eyes.

“So, do you like it?”

You turned, the widest grin plastered across your face.

“I love you.”

Now, it was his turn to be dumbfounded, blinking at you in a stunned silence, his lips parted in surprise. With a giggle, you threw yourself in his arms, pressing your face to his chest.

“W-What?” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you.

You tilted your head up to look at his face. His freckles really did look like stars. “Didn’t you hear me? I said I love you, Clay.”

He blinked again. “No, I—” He stopped, then smiled. “I love you too, [Y/N].”

Holding onto his arms for support, you leaned up on your toes, pecking him sweetly. He followed after your lips when you pulled away, still smiling when you stood flat on the ground once more.

“So, what spurred this on?” you asked, your eyes shining in the darkness. “Did you decide to finally do something for yourself, for once?”

He chuckled. “Let’s just say that the orphanage governess saw me eyeing this one emerald and told me to keep it.” You felt him shake his head above you. “Wouldn’t take no for an answer. She reminded me of you.”

You laughed. “I’m glad to hear that you still think of me even when talking to other women.”

He smirked. “That’s ‘cause I’m always thinking about you.”

Somehow, he could still see the way your cheeks burned in the dimness of your room, your lips curling into a dizzy grin. He let out a wheeze at your expression, hugging you close again. “I’m not lying, you know.”

You smiled despite your embarrassment. “Yeah, I do.”

It seemed that every quiet moment the two of you got, you spent hugging. Not that you were complaining, really. It felt good to feel him in your arms and to feel his arms around you. You felt safe. Warm. Protected. Loved. This was everything you could have ever wanted.

A few more moments passed in silence before he said, “I should go.”

Your fingers tightened around his cloak. Of course he had to. He always had to, you knew this.

So why did it still hurt so much?

He pulled away from you, brushing a hand over your cheek. “I promise I’ll still come by tomorrow, so don’t miss me too much.”

Pecking your forehead affectionately once more, he took a step back, reaching for his mask. You frowned. “I miss you already,” you said, “and you haven’t even left yet.”

He stiffened at that, his hand stopping before it could reach his mask as he turned to look at you. You were gazing at him sadly, something yearning eating away at the inside of your chest.

“Hey,” you said softly. “Why don’t you stay the night? My bed has enough room for the both of us, if you don’t mind squeezing a little, since you’re so tall.”

Clay returned your sad gaze. “I shouldn’t.”

“You know,” you murmured, “you’re allowed to be a little selfish, Clay.” You looked down and fiddled with the necklace around your neck. “This is proof of that.” You glanced back up at him. “I’m proof of that.”

He didn’t move.

“Please, love?” you whispered.

He swallowed.

You were beautiful while standing in the moonlight and the waning candlelight. You were beautiful while wearing your nightgown. You were beautiful inside out, and he loved you.

And he gave in.

“Okay,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But only because you look so pretty in that necklace, just like I knew you would.”

Yeah, you were beautiful while blushing with a wide smile, too.

That night, you fell asleep with your head on Clay’s chest and his arms encasing you.

Safe. Warm. Protected. Loved.

Now, this was everything you could have ever wanted.

You don’t think you had ever slept as well as you did last night in your entire life. Waking up with Clay’s face next to yours was a blessing you could only hope you would get to experience at least once more in your life. You spent your morning in a love-filled daze, full of giggles and soft kisses pressed to lips, cheeks, and hands.

Oh, what you wouldn’t give to spend everyday like this.

Your “see you tomorrow” this morning was more somber than most, but you still managed to smile through it. After all, you had been graced with the most wonderful of mornings—that was more than enough to make up for the pain of separation.

Not wanting to ruin the good mood you had been put in, you went out for lunch once more. You stopped by the florist’s on your way out, purchasing a few lilies as a little treat for yourself before continuing on your way. It wasn’t long before you were walking up to Rose’s stall with an extra spring in your step, your flower-filled basket swinging by your side.

“Hello, Rose!” you said in a sing-song voice, setting your basket on the stall counter with a grin.

Rose turned with a grin. “Why, is that you, [Y/N]? Two days in a row? Today must be my lucky day.” She looked at you quizzically. “You seem rather chipper today.”

You hummed. “Do I?”

Her glittering eyes bore into yours, flickering with recognition. “Oh, I see, now. It must be that boy of yours that’s got you so bright.”

Your hand instinctively went to the necklace around your neck, playing with the emerald pendant. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said.

She pointed at your necklace, her eyes practically bulging out of her head. “Well, would you look at that! He must have given that to you! That’s the only reasonable explanation.” She crossed her arms over her chest, nodding triumphantly. “Yes, that must be it, I’m sure of it.”

You didn’t even bother trying to deny it. She was right, and you were in too good of a mood to stop her. “You’re sure?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she confirmed. “I know what a lovestruck girl looks like when I see one, and you’re the very definition of one right now.”

You sputtered at her words. “Wha—that’s—”

She cackled at you. “Exactly, my dear. Exactly.” She turned and grabbed a wooden bowl for you, already reaching for her pot. “Tell me more about him, will you? I’m so curious to hear what you have to say.”

You smiled, slapping another coin onto the table. A little chit chat wouldn’t hurt. And so, you spoke while you ate, sharing every small insignificantly significant detail you knew about Clay with Rose.

He has a laugh like a tea kettle. He loves cats. He’s a good singer, but sings horribly on purpose to make me laugh. His heart is too big for his own good. He’s smarter than anyone I know, and cleverer than most. He’s amazing. I love him.

By the time you finished your rabbit stew, you were quite certain you were even more in love with Clay, if that was even possible.

“He’s a keeper,” Rose said resolutely, her gaze fond as she listened to you ramble. “I’m telling you, he is. If he doesn’t marry you, he’ll be making a big mistake.”

Your face heat up at the idea, but you didn’t say anything. Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad idea, getting marrie—

The whinny of a horse interrupted your thoughts, and you turned to look behind you.

Four horses had just trotted into the market square, each one manned by a man wearing a specific colour. Your stomach knotted with nervousness.

The four new palace guards—what were they doing here?

You and Rose watched in confusion as the four men leapt off their horses, sharing a brief look with one another before parting ways. Each man walked off in a different direction to a different part of the square, immediately starting up a conversation with the nearest available people.

And to your surprise, it seemed that George was walking straight toward the two of you.

The knot in your stomach tightened. This wasn’t good.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted when he arrived, smiling at the two of you kindly. “My name is George. You may recognize me as one the four new palace guards.”

Rose bowed, lowering her gaze politely. “Welcome to my simple stall, Sir George. I am Rose Dubois, at your service.”

George bowed back. “As am I, miss. And please, call me George.”

When he rose, he turned to come t his gaze directly with yours, and your palms began to sweat where they gripped onto your basket. However, you did your best to behave benevolently. You wouldn’t give him any reason to suspect you. Giving him a curtsy, you introduced yourself. “It’s an honour to meet you, Sir George. My name is [Y/N].”

He smiled warmly at you. “I assure you, the formalities are not necessary, miss. You may simply call me by my name.”

You smiled back, clenching your first behind your back. “I insist.”

“Where do you work, miss [Y/N]?” he inquired. “You don’t seem to own a stall in the marketplace.”

You shook your head, plastering the smile to your face the best you can. “Oh, I own the bakery a few blocks away. I simply venture out to treat myself for lunch every once in a while.”

Rose laughed. “‘Every once in a while’ is an overstatement, believe me, sir. She hardly ever comes out, let alone for lunch!”

George’s lips twitched upward. “I’m sure it must be busy running a bakery by yourself.”

You chuckled, trying not to sound awkward. “It is, but the customers are more than kind enough to me, and I love my work. It’s nothing that I can’t handle.”

He bobbed his head. “That’s good.” The smile suddenly fell from his face, and you felt the anxiety rise in you. “I hate to change the tone of this conversation so abruptly, but I actually wanted to ask the two of you a question.”

You gulped. Keep your cool, [Y/N], you reminded yourself. Just keep it together and you’ll be okay. It’ll be easy!

“Do you two happen to know anything about Dream? Anything at all. My men and I are doing some investigating.”

Okay, maybe not so easy.

“I know some things,” Rose explained, “but not a whole lot.” She told him what she knew of Dream’s actions, but couldn’t elaborate beyond his a mere handful of examples before she ran dry. In the meantime, you were doing your best to calm your breathing, fiddling with the lilies in your basket.

“Thank you, miss Rose,” George said when she finished. He then turned to you. “As for you, miss [Y/N]? Do you happen to have any information you could share with me?”

Rose answered him before you could. “Oh, I swear,” she laughed, “the girl’s about as clueless as a toddler. It’s because she never goes out, the young thing. She didn’t know of your existence until I told her about you. You won’t get anything out of her, I can assure you that, sir.”

George frowned. “I see.” His gaze fell down to your collarbone. “That’s quite the necklace you’ve got there.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Might I ask where you got it from?”

Once again, you didn’t get the chance to respond.

“It’s a gift from her lover!” Rose supplied cheerfully. “Isn’t it just beautiful? He really is a wonderful man.”

You pretended to be embarrassed and that you didn’t want to hide and scream in a hole. “Rose!” you hissed, feigning a flustered expression. “I’m sure Sir George here doesn’t want to hear all about my love life!”

The guard laughed, the tiniest wave of relief washing over you. “Oh, it’s alright. Everyone loves love.” His mouth closed into a smile, but it was slightly off. “Say hello to your lover, then. From me to him.” His eyes glinted with something you couldn’t quite name. “Tell him he’s got good taste.”

You were almost positive that your blood had turned into ice in your veins by now, but you simply nodded and smiled. “I will! I’m sure he’ll be honoured to have been thought of by you, sir.”

He chuckled. “Oh, it’s nothing, I assure you.” He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “Well, I’m afraid my time is up here, ladies, and I must go.” He bowed down once more. “It was a pleasure speaking to you both.”

The two of you sank into curtsies in farewell, waving him goodbye and watching as he rejoined the rest of his teammates, chatting amicably with one another. Rose let out a sigh where she stood behind her stall, completely unaware of the terror that was gripping your heart.

“He was so polite! And quite handsome, as well. If I wasn’t so very much in love with my fiancé, perhaps I would have liked him, too.” She spared a glance at you, blinking at you inquisitively. “You aren’t getting any second thoughts about your boy, are you?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Of course not! I was just thinking that I should head back. My lunch break is over, anyway.”

Rose smiled at you wistfully. “Do come back soon, will you?”

You sent her a bright smile. “Sure thing.”

Gripping your basket tightly, you waved her goodbye as you strode out of the marketplace back towards the bakery. Your heartbeat rang wildly in your ears, sounding like a siren you couldn’t shut off.

You had to get home. You wanted nothing more than to see Clay. There was no way this was happening—no way. This had to be some sick dream. Yeah, you were actually just at home, still lying warm and safe in bed with Clay. Totally. For sure.

Oh, who were you kidding? This was real life, and you were absolutely terrified.

You went home that day with a lump in your throat and an uneasy, sinking feeling in your gut.

I’m sorry, Rose, you thought.

You weren’t going to go back to the marketplace for a while.

The next morning couldn’t have come by any slower. You had tossed and turned all night, anxiety clawing at the back of your mind like some wicked beast that would just not leave you alone. When you finally awoke to sunrise, you practically leapt out of bed, your hand immediately flying up to the necklace around your neck. You had yet to take it off, and you highly doubted that you ever would at this point.

You practically flew through your morning routine, rushing through every step before slowly picking up your hairbrush. Clay always interrupted you while you brushed your hair. You felt your lips curl in anticipation. You couldn’t wait to see him, again.

So you waited.

And waited

And waited.

You didn’t know how long had passed. The sun had long risen by now, and Clay still hadn’t knocked.

You sat on your bed, your hairbrush lying abandoned in your lap. You felt the back of your eyes sting with unshed tears. You knew you had to open up shop. Hell, the bread was probably burnt in the oven by now. You still had some dough leftover though, so you weren’t all that concerned.

About the bread, that was.

He wasn’t gone, you just knew it. He was just... busy, this morning. Yes, that was it! He was just busy. He had to be.

You wiped your dry eyes with the back of your hand, taking a deep breath before standing up. A new sense of resolve filled you, and you were not about to abandon hope so easily.

Perhaps he would appear at your balcony when night came.

You could wait until nightfall.

You had to.

The day had dragged like a wheel stuck in mud. Everything passed in a haze, like nothing mattered at all without Clay. You still managed to do everything successfully, smiling at customers and asking regulars about their day without slipping up even once. You even had a whole, functional conversation with Mr. Richardson and his husband! And yet you felt as though something was terribly off, like there was this gaping hole in your being.

You were right—you were a wreck without him. A complete and total wreck.

That night, you trudged upstairs with a heavy heart, slipping off you clothes in favour of your nightgown. You had just lit a candle and picked up your hairbrush when you stopped. Your ears perked up, listening for any sounds, any at all.

You were met with silence. No knocks. No tea kettle laughter. Nothing.

You wanted to cry.

Setting down your hairbrush, you took in a shaky breath, walking over to your balcony window. A part of you desperately hopes to catch even just a glimpse of his green cloak, the one you had lovingly stitched by hand for him. But deep down, you knew the reality of things.

You flipped open the lock and watched as the door swung open, gazing out at your empty balcony and the quiet night sky. Just as you expected, he wasn’t here. Why wasn’t he here?

You missed him so, so much.

Just as you were about to go back inside, something caught your attention from the corner of your eye. You stopped, turning.

There, tied to your balcony railing with a green ribbon, was a folded piece of parchment.

You heartbeat sped up.

Could it be...?

You scrambled forward, making quick work of the ribbon and grabbing the paper, rushing back inside before the biting, night wind could nip at your skin. You locked the window behind you before you settled down onto your bed. Your fingers shakily unfolded the page you held, the handwritten words unveiling themselves to you.

[Y/N],

Hi, love. I hope I haven’t worried you too much. I saw George talking to you in the marketplace yesterday, and I was terrified he would do something to you if he knew that you were involved with me, let alone my lover. I won’t be dropping by in the mornings anymore. I’m sorry, love. I can only hope that you’ll understand. I’ll do my best to leave you a note every night, though. Rest assured that I’m safe and sound. Please wait for me.

I love you, [Y/N]. More than you know.

Yours truly,

Dream

You traced the crease lines with your finger, your eyes reading over every word he wrote once, twice, thrice, absolutely committing them to memory. You leaned back on your bed, the tiniest of smiles coming to your face. Of course he wouldn’t write his real name—hell, at this point, you were starting to believe you were the only one who even knew his real name. But that didn’t matter. There were more important matters at hand, now.

He hadn’t left you. You weren’t alone.

Without a doubt, you would wait for him.

You would gladly wait for an eternity and then some if you had to.

Three weeks passed without any sight of Clay.

Knowing you couldn’t keep hiding forever, it took you a while to muster the courage to return to marketplace once more. Rose nearly threw a fit when you did, crying about how you had broken your promise to return more often.

“I never promised, though,” you reminded her.

She sniffled dramatically. “That doesn’t mean you didn’t break my heart.”

It was difficult going through all the motions of your everyday life without seeing Clay, but you trudged onward with each new day. However, there came nights that you spent simply staring blankly at your ceiling. How much longer could you go on without your favourite part of your day?

Rose wasn’t kidding when she said that three weeks could feel like forever.

While it was impossible for you to even catch a glimpse of Clay, you don’t think you had ever seen Dream as much as you did now.

From whispers of his name in your bakery to wanted posters of him on the wall, Dream appeared all around you. You even saw him dart through the square, sacks of gold coins bouncing against his side and chests filled to the brim treasure hoisted in his arms as he ran from the guards. it was almost as if he was suddenly everywhere around you, and yet nowhere at all. Each time you caught sight of your green-clad lover, something squeezed deep in your chest. You wanted Clay, not Dream, but you could wait. You promised you would wait, and you had no intention of breaking that promise.

With due time, your favourite part of your day slowly transformed into your favourite part of the night. As closing hours ticked closer and closer by, your body would grow giddy with excitement. Your feet would tap and you would hum to yourself more often. Even some of the customers began to notice.

“You always look so excited at the end of the day,” Mr. Richardson had once joked. “Are you really that happy to leave me?”

You had simply smiled at him, your expression earnest and wistful. “No, I’m just excited to see someone important to me.”

Every night after closing up shop and wiping down all the counters, you would scramble to your bedroom, slipping in your nightgown before rushing to your balcony window. And every night without fail, a smile would light up your face when you saw the folded parchment tied to your railing. Reading Clay’s letters next to the fading candlelight of your bedroom left you feeling a little less lonely than the hours just before. You kept his letters in a small box hidden deep within your floorboard and would slip them in before you went to bed, but some morning you would find that you fell asleep re-reading his words over and over again.

You couldn’t wait until the moment you could see him again.

What you didn’t know was that that moment was coming much sooner than you expected.

You woke to the sound of a creaking railing and knocking on wood.

With a deep groan, you rolled over, blinking the sleep away from your eyes from where you lay. Oh so slowly, you sat up, letting out a quiet yawn as you glanced out the window.

It was pitch black outside.

Confusion muddled your foggy brain, your head still half-asleep in the bed on which you sat. You cast your gaze toward the clock beside your bed, squinting at the time through the dark.

It was half past two in the morning.

There was another creak, then came more knocking. Your head turned towards the sound, your mind slowly whirring to life as it tried to decipher the sounds it was hearing.

Just what was that noise?

For a brief moment, there was silence. Then you heard it, again.

Four short knocks. One long one. Two short ones.

You fell out of your bed, dragging the covers down with you.

No way.

You waited again, listening carefully.

Once again: four short knocks. One long one. Two short ones.

Tears sprung to your eyes.

It was him.

You practically sprinted across your bedroom, nearly tripping over your own blankets as you scrambled to reach the balcony window. You flipped open the lock in record time, practically slamming the door open.

There he sat on the railing, his green cloak wrapped around him and his white smiling mask hiding his face from view. Behind him, the stars twinkled in the murky night sky, blinking like tiny beacons of hope.

“Clay,” you said breathlessly, not bothering to correct yourself. “You’re here.”

He pulled his mask away from his face, his emerald eyes flashing like gems in the starlight as he stood. “I’m here.”

You stumbled forward, your hands desperately reaching for him in the darkness. Without missing a beat, he met you halfway, his hands wrapping around yours. For a second, the two of you simply stared at one another, soaking in the other’s presence.

Then your lips were mashed against his, his hands in your hair and his tongue prodding at yours and god, you loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

You love him.

The two of you separated with a gasp, your eyes gazing into one another’s. For a second, all was still. The rest of the world fell away, and all you could focus on was the sound of his breaths and his face so close to yours.

“Hey,” he said softly, mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Hi,” you whispered back, a lovestruck smile creeping onto your face.

He opened up his arms and pulled you in,, squeezing you in a tight embrace. You took a deep breath, your eyelids fluttering closed as you savoured his scent of fresh pine. “Sorry, did I wake you up?” he quietly asked, his voice raspy and low next to your ear.

You nodded into his chest. “Yeah, but I don’t mind.” I never mind when it’s you.

Reaching a hand up to stroke your hair, he softly admitted, “I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You smiled, hidden from his view. “I promise you I missed you more.” He chuckled at your words, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you. Then, you spoke.

“I thought that I would never see you, again,” you whispered, your voice shaking like an autumn leaf. “I was so scared.”

He wiped away your tears, holding your face delicately between his hands, like you were made of glass. “I told you, didn’t I? I’m not going anywhere. Not without you. Never without you, love.”

You nodded, laughing through your tears, “You did tell me, you did.” You leaned into his touch, nuzzling your face into his hand. “I don’t know why I ever doubted you.”

His lips quirked at that, but expression suddenly grew serious. “[Y/N], there’s something that I have to tell you, and it’s serious.”

You looked back at him, blinking away your tears to focus on his expression. He sighed before beginning to explain. “I’m—I’m not just here because I wanted to see you. You know the guards?”

Your throat tightened, but you nodded, still listening patiently. “I’m pretty sure George finally connected the dots between us. I think he asked Duke Sherwood about your necklace and, well—” He grimaced. “You probably know how the rest goes.”

Panic crashed over you like a wave as your brain began processing a million thoughts all at once. What was going to happen to you? Were you going to be thrown in jail? Or killed? Would you never see Clay, again? Clay—oh god, Clay. What would they do to him?

“I don’t know how much longer you can continue living safely here,” he murmured, his expression sad. “I also came by to ask if...” He sucked in a breath. “...if you wanted to run away with me.”

Your eyes widened. Run away?

“I’ve secured a route out of the capital set for dawn. We’d be gone before anyone even knew it.” He ran a hand through his murky golden locks, frowning. “I know that it’s a lot to ask of you, to leave the life you know just to be with me.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Especially when I’ve been so neglectful of you.”

Your whirled at that, your lips moving before you could stop yourself. “Don’t say that about yourself.” He stared at you in surprise, and you continued before he could interrupt. “You’re wonderful, Clay, really. You’re easily the most wonderful thing to have ever happened to me.”

You picked up his hand, pressing it to your chest. “Can you feel that?” you whispered. “Do you feel how fast you make my heart beat?”

His eyes widened, and he nodded.

Your leaned forward to place your forehead on his. “I don’t know how many times I’ve said it, but I’ll say it for the rest of my life if I have to.” You sent him a warm smile. “I choose you, Clay. I’d choose you every time, in every life. It’s always been you.”

You only saw his watery smile for a split second before he was crushing you in a hug to his chest. You didn’t hesitate to hug him back, squeezing him as tight as you possibly could.

Your heart was set on him. You loved your life at the bakery and your lunches with Rose, but these past few weeks taught you that a life without Clay was not a life spent living.

“Surviving and living are two very different things,” Rose had told you.

She was right.

“I’ll get properly dressed,” you said, pulling yourself away from his warm hold, “and then we can go.” Your spun on your heel, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Okay?”

His lips were parted while staring at you, almost looking like he had been struck with some great revelation. You turned, about to go back inside when a hand around your wrist stopped you. You looked back over your shoulder to see Clay looking down at his feet, something like anxiety etched into his features.

“Clay? What’s wrong?”

He let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s actually... one more thing I need to ask you before you go.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. Another thing? What could he possibly talking about?

Letting go of your wrist and shoving his hand into his pocket, he sent you a crooked smile. “I spent so long preparing for this, but I’m still so nervous.”

He sucked in a deep breath, then sank to one knee.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

“[Y/N],” he began, his emerald gaze boring into yours, “I have stolen countless treasure chest troves’ worth of gold and jewels. I can’t even begin to name how much I’ve taken from and given to others. But do you remember—” He swallowed. “When I told you all those years ago that I wanted to bring change to this world by any means necessary, do you remember what you told me?”

You shook your head, still far too star-struck to speak.

His lips twitched into a grin. “You told me that you’d be waiting for me. And also that I had to promise I wouldn’t die and leave you all alone.” You stifled a laugh as he sucked in a deep breath, reaching a hand into his pocket. “I like to believe that I’ve done a pretty good job keeping that promise, but I think it’s time to make sure I never break it.”

From his pocket he pulled a small velvet box—a ring box. You were shaking now, a gasp escaping your lips as he flipped the top open.

It was a beautiful ring, consisting of a single silver band encrusted with diamonds and a glittering cut emerald lying in its center. It matched the necklace you wore perfectly, and you already knew what he was going to ask.

“[Y/N], love,” he breathed, holding one hand out toward you and the ring box in the other, “will you marry me?”

You didn’t even have to think twice.

“Yes,” you breathed, slipping your hand in his. “Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes. I never want to be without you, again.”

You don’t think you had ever seen Clay smile so wide before as he swept you into his arms, swinging you around with a gleeful laugh. You giggled along with him, so overwhelmed with love and joy that you couldn’t help but join him. After a few seconds, he slowed to a stop, dipping his head to kiss you once more.

“You are my greatest treasure,” he whispered when he pulled away.

His emerald eyes shone like a tiny galaxy of his own. You stroked his cheek with your hand. “And you are mine.”

You knew that the future was anything but clear. You were leaving behind the life you had built in the city you had always lived in, running off with nothing more than the clothes on your back and a ring on your finger.

But you knew that with Clay by your side, that didn’t matter.

It was a dream come true.

At dawn, Rose Dubois awoke to find a rolled up piece of parchment tied with green ribbon on her stall counter.

Hello, Rose!

I’m sorry I didn’t visit you as often as you’d have liked. I’m afraid I won’t get the chance to now, but I do have wonderful news for you. We are getting married, just like you hoped! If I ever return, I will be sure to tell you every detail. Save me a bowl of rabbit stew, will you?

All my love,

[Y/N] & Dream

She looked out at the rising sun in the distance, watching two birds soar across the gold-tinted sky, flapping in harmony with one another. A part of her always felt like she knew, and now she was left to wonder. She wondered where they went, where they were going.

She ran her thumb along the edge of the page, a content smile gracing her lips as she murmured three words.

“I’ll be waiting.”

2K notes · View notes

shoutogepi · 4 years ago

Text

Worth the Wait

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 9.2k

[ ☁︎, ☀︎, ✘ (nsfw 18+) ] (v lowkey angst//fluff)

themes : virgin!Shouto, experienced!reader (well, more than Sho anyway lol), praise kink?, lil baby couples quarrel, make up sex, and also he’s kinda hung lmfao idk if that’s relevant 💀

bio : You can’t help but notice that every time things start to heat up with your Pro-Hero boyfriend, he shuts you down. After politely ignoring his initial rejections, your frustrations build up, and you decide to confront him.

author’s note : so this fic was inspired by a conversation with the lovely astrid ( @todoscript ), who is becoming my cherished shouto confidante! we didn’t talk about it for very long, and it was awhile ago... but my brain would not move on so… this happened. i figured if i’m going to type so much about him i may as well write a fic. thanks for listening to my constant yelling, hope you enjoiii <3

side note : both shouto and reader are meant to be young adults in this fic!! i was thinking somewhere around 25-30 (i didn’t specify the age in the fic) but i thought i would make note of this as that’s considered “old” to still have your v-card, by American society at least (hence why sho kept that info from reader)

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃he first time it happened, you tried to play it off as if you hadn’t made a move.

The last few of your friends had finally departed from the Saturday game night you had thrown, leaving just you, Shouto, and the slow, hot tango of your tongues. You hadn’t seen each other all week— with him being busy with his hero work, and you being busy with your comparatively-mundane job, you didn’t get to spend as much time together as you would have liked. Although it was an obstacle for your relationship, you were both young adults as well as devoted professionals, which allowed the two of you to remain on the same page most of the time. It was typical for you to text and call one another for a few hours after work (granted you both had the time to spare) before passing out mid-conversation, your phone screen still lit up and gentle snores exchanged through the speakers. But like any sane girlfriend, having him in person, right in front of you, was always your favorite.

What had started as a peck had quickly evolved into a full on make-out session— Shouto had pulled you halfway onto his lap when you tried to move back from your initially-stealthy kiss, an appreciative hum rumbling through him as his large hands cupped around your face. You didn’t fight him as he brought your lips back to his, and you failed to stop him when those very same hands began to glide down your back, parking just above your ass. His fingers had gradually started to fiddle with the tops of your jeans, thumb running over the denim and dipping down to graze against your skin through your thin blouse.

Yet when your hands slipped underneath the bottom of his shirt, he pulled back from you, heterochromatic eyes guarded as he removed your hands. You had immediately picked up on his reluctance, and threw yourself off of him onto the other side of the couch, embarrassment scorching the back of your neck. Shouto left not long after that, for you had made up some lousy excuse that you were tired and would like to go to sleep, when sleep was really the opposite of your innermost desires.

This would have been all fine and good— because consent was consent after all, and you had no intentions of pushing him to do something he was uncomfortable with— had the same thing not happened just two weeks later. There you were thinking it would be a cute, coupley evening of watching movies and tossing popcorn at each other, resting your head against his shoulder and being content with just that— when then all of the sudden he was pinning you onto the sheets and kissing you til you couldn’t breathe. His hands, once again, wandered all over your clothed torso, palms mapping out each dip and curve as his tongue entertained yours in your mouth.

You were hesitant to kiss him at first, recalling how you had horrifically killed the mood last time, but as his advances became more passionate, you slowly allowed your defenses to slip back, excitement building inside of you. It was only when your legs tightened around his waist, your core brushing up along his thigh and causing you to let out the softest moan did he pull back. That same calm, cool expression was on his face, though his eyes were a bit wider than usual. There was also the tiniest hint of pink dusting his pale cheeks, his lips parted as he gathered himself. It was rather awkward after that— neither of you really knew what to say— so you crawled back to your spot and sat in silence for the rest of the movie, your hands eventually wandering out to hold onto each other. After sharing a soft kiss and exchanging “goodnight”s, you returned to your place, ready for an extra long appointment with your vibrator.

Unfortunately for you, this became a common occurrence. It wasn’t that you hated the steamy make-out sessions with your as-hot-as-they-come boyfriend, no— you thoroughly enjoyed them. The part that you absolutely loathed was returning to your place with your panties soaked all the way through, your sexual frustration meter only climbing higher and higher.

You loved your boyfriend! And of course you respected his wishes. You would wait for however long he wanted, because you wanted your first time together to be special. But fuck, did he have to heat you up just to leave you hanging every time? If he wanted to wait, then fine! But, God, what had you done to deserve this torture? You couldn’t get past first base— you’d never even rubbed your body erotically against his except for that time on his bed, and that was by accident!

And that was what you told the ladies during your Thursday night all-girl conference call, finally needing to vent and get this selfish feeling off your chest. It had been a long time coming, quietly brewing over the many instances of him stunting your advances that you came to a realization.

Enough was enough! You were going to ask him why he wouldn’t go any further with you, and whatever his answer may be, at least you would know what he was thinking! You felt like a weight had been lifted off of you, the girls cheering you on and wishing you luck as you said goodbye, ready to confront him.

— - — - — - — - —

Now that you’re standing here in front of his door, it seems like a foolish plan you’ve made. Your heart is beating out of your chest, thumping frantically against your ribcage as your fist is frozen in the air, knuckle about to connect with the door. Your stomach feels tight and low, throat dry with apprehension as your brain runs through every possible outcome. What would he say once you ask him your question?

Perhaps your breath stinks and it turns him off? Or maybe he doesn’t like the perfume you wear— or is it the way you dress that he doesn’t like? What if the reason he always stops you… is because he’s not sexually attracted to you?

Now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him pop a boner during your tongue wrestling matches, and the realization nearly causes your soul to leave your body. Even though the thought horrifies you, you try your best to reassure yourself that’s not the case. You had caught Shouto checking you out on multiple occasions, his eyes igniting a delicious heat on your skin. Whatever the case, you’re in this too deep to chicken out now. So with that, you let your knuckles rap on the door, steeling your nerves.

There’s a moment of quiet shuffling before your boyfriend opens the door, a pleasantly surprised smile on his face. His hair is wet and freshly washed, shining droplets collecting at the ends and making him appear even more handsome than usual. The gray tee thrown over his broad shoulders has damp spots from the runoff, and you take a second to admire the way his chest looks in the clingy material. “Hey, love,” he says, his voice alone causing goosebumps to rise along your forearms.

You allow him to guide you into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him quietly. “Hi Sho,” you greet back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him.

Shouto chuckles against your eager lips, long arms gathering you into his chest. When he pulls away, he tucks your head underneath his chin, placing another kiss on your crown. “I missed you.”

Your heart throbs, happiness surging through you and butterflies bursting into your stomach. “I missed you more,” you reply playfully, burying your face between his broad pecs and inhaling his warm, wintery scent. The smell of fresh detergent lingers on the fabric, mixing with his clean aroma and making your tummy flip in circles.

“Impossible,” Shouto quips back, holding your waist tight as he dips you backwards just enough for your feet to leave the ground before he presses his lips to yours again, rendering you breathless. He pulls you back upright after a moment, a cheeky smirk on his face as you try to remember what you were talking about before. “Come in, sit down. I was just finishing up some work, I’ll get you something to drink.”

Following his instruction, you move further into his apartment, gravitating toward the couch and inspecting the files laid out on the coffee table before you. The words blur together for you, the foreign hero work forms long and in what might as well be another language. You lean back onto the cushions as Shouto returns, a glass of water in his hand. Frost forms on the glass as he hands it to you, taking a seat beside you with his knee brushing against yours. You smile at his consideration, taking a small sip even though you’re not really thirsty.

“Was there something you came over here for specifically, love? Forgive me if I’ve forgotten, but I don’t believe we had plans?” He’s looking directly at you, eyes locked with yours as his hand comes to land on the top of your knee. Even just an innocent movement like that has you on alert, your breath catching in your throat as he gives a gentle squeeze.

“Uh… no reason,” you answer lamely, crumbling under the pressure of his watchful eyes. “Just wanted to see you.”

Shouto’s gaze lingers on you carefully, and for a second you feel like you’ve been caught in a trap. But he lets it go, his lips forming a soft smile as he lays his arm around your shoulders. “Well, I’m glad to see you too,” he replies honestly. His fingers caress your arm as his hand falls down to your waist, and he leans in to press another kiss to your cheek. You lean into his affection, mouth curving in content. “So, what would you like to do?” Shouto asks as he shuffles the files away into their manilla envelopes, creating a neat pile in the far corner of the table. He leans back into the cushions, fingers fondly stroking at your side. “We could go out to eat? We could try this new bar afterwards, too, it’s across from my agency. If you’re alright to go out.”

You can’t focus on his words, really— you’re too lost in your own thoughts. Why does he have to touch you like this every time, when if you act on it, he’ll only push you away? You’ve been together for a long while now, and still, he doesn’t take initiative to further your relationship. Every bone you’ve thrown his way has been perfectly deflected, with no sign of weariness from him. If he doesn’t want you, is it because he’s not into you anymore?

An ugly thought rears its head in the midst of your anxiety’s dark clouds.

Maybe he never was.

Taking your silence as an answer, Shouto continues on, looking towards the kitchen over his shoulder. “Or we could buy groceries and make dinner. I think I have bok choy in the fridge, but we’ll have to buy some meat. And noodles, if you want those instead of rice. I’m sure I have that sesame sauce you like, I—” He pauses as you grab his hand, your fingers looping tight around his warm palm, sliding them to rest on your thigh.

With the summer just fading into fall, you were wearing something to showcase the smooth expanse of your thighs, and as you guide his hand to touch your soft skin, a delicate blush blooms across Shouto’s cheeks. The flustered expression on his face only goads you on, and you lean in to capture his lips.

A muffled noise escapes him, your hand coming up to touch his jaw and rub your thumb against his chin. It only takes him a moment to recalibrate before his free hand rises and copies your actions, gliding down the back of your neck before pulling your face closer to his.

You run your tongue against the seam of his mouth, and he swiftly grants you access as his lips move to follow yours. He tastes like mint and sweet herbs, the tea he was entertaining before you came lingering on his tongue. His hand slips out of yours to curl around your waist, grabbing onto your hip and squeezing. As your kisses start getting heavier and slower, your once-occupied hand moves to land on his chest, your thumb pushing into the tender muscle located there. His flesh jumps beneath your touch, but he allows you to continue groping at him through his shirt, his own hands beginning to knead at you. Before you know it, your knee swings over his thighs and you’re hovering on top of his lap, not sitting down on him just yet as you realize the position you’ve put yourself in.

You can notice the change— you’ve faced this exact scenario many times before. Shouto’s hands freeze up, locking into their current position, and he only returns your passionate kisses, not allowing his body much more movement than that. You try to just keep kissing him, but all the doubts and fears quickly pile up inside of you, and you pull away from him. You can’t even look at him. You’re too scared to speak, and too reluctant to get off of him, only leaning back to create a divide between his face and yours. Trying to hide your face before he can see your defeated expression, you dive into his chest, arms folding tight around his neck.

Shouto’s still frozen in place, but he seems to sense your distress. His arms slowly circle around your waist, fingers moving to trace up and down your spine. He softly exhales against your hair, letting out the breath he was holding in ever since you swung onto his lap. “Y/N? Are you alright?” he asks quietly after a brief pause, his voice soft and low, soothing to your wary ears. “You haven’t been acting like yourself today…”

After a long pause, you sigh, trying your best not to get emotional. “It’s just…” I’m so fucking attracted to you but you won’t let me touch you, you want to say, but you’re too terrified to say it aloud. What can you even say to him that would be better than that?

Shouto’s arms around you squeeze gently, indicating his patience in awaiting your answer. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his lips grazing over your ear and placing a discreet kiss there. “Whatever it is, we can face it together.”

You let out a soft sniffle and Shouto pulls you tighter into his chest, his heart cracking at your sound of sadness. But his words bring a surprising amount of comfort to you, and you clear your throat before you lean back again, looking into his two-toned irises. His gaze is sympathetic, his eyes holding a visible amount of affection and support. “Well, I…”

He nods slightly, leaning forward to show his encouragement. “Go ahead, love…”

“Are… Are you attracted to me?”

It comes out more high-pitched than you would’ve liked, but at least it’s out— and he definitely heard you, judging from the wide-eyed shock painted across his face.

“Am I— What?” He stutters, his head tilting automatically in confusion. “I— of course I’m attracted to you, I’m… you’re my girlfriend.” Shouto looks at you incredulously, his arms falling to his side so that only his hands remain on your hips. “You’re the most attractive person I know, love. You’re gorgeous, inside and out,” he elaborates. “The whole package.”

His compliments butter you up, a small smile forming on your lips as you shyly look to your hands folded in your lap. “Not the whole package…” you mumble, squirming slightly as his hands come to hold either side of your face.

“Yes, the whole package,” he insists, nuzzling your nose against his. “Beautiful,” he declares as he kisses your cheek.

“Kind.” A smooch to the other cheek.

Your heart beats excitedly in your chest, thumping loudly against your ribs with each compliment.

“Courageous.” A kiss to the chin.

“Witty.” A peck to the forehead.

“Sexy?” you blurt it out just as he swoops in to press his lips to yours.

Shouto falters, pulling back just a hair as he looks at you in shock. “S-Sexy?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but by the way his cheeks and ears are tinged a bright pink, it’s clear your suggestion was a bit too much for him.

The way he stutters out the adjective in confusion has your heart tearing in two. “Y-You don’t…?”

You’re staring directly at him, his wide eyes locked with yours and his body frozen to the couch. His lips are slightly parted, but no words come out of him.

Silence.

This is not how you want this conversation to go— you aren’t prepared for it to go like this. The tears you had successfully fought off before come back with vengeance.

Only once Shouto sees you hang your head in embarrassment, your eyes getting glassier by the second, he springs into action. “Hey, no, that’s not…” he starts to speak, sounding more worried by the second. His hand goes to cup your face, the warmth of his quirk evident in his touch as his finger dries over a fresh track of tears on your cheek. “I… of course I think you’re sexy, love. I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise… You don’t think I know how sexy you are?”

You can only reply with a lame shrug, unwilling to let his eyes meet yours as you hide your face behind your curtain of hair. You try to slide off his lap, ready to retreat to the bathroom and wipe away your pathetic tears, but Shouto doesn’t let you move away from him, his arms locking tight around your waist and forcing you to lean against his chest.

“Talk to me, baby,” he pleads, nuzzling into the side of your face. His voice is more gentle than you’ve ever heard before, and you hate to admit your stomach is doing cartwheels at how sweet he’s being. “I love you no matter what, and I hate to see you so upset. I’m not good at figuring these things out on my own, just tell me what’s wrong, love. Please?”

He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, his fingers massaging your stiff muscles as you cling onto him. Once you’re confident enough to speak, your words come out barely loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just that… whenever I think we’re about to take it to the next level, you pull away. I want to respect your boundaries, Sho, but I can’t help but feel like it’s because you don’t… want me.” The hands on your body still at that, your boyfriend taking in a sharp breath as you pause, then decide to continue. “I’m just… so attracted to you, Shouto… I want to be mindful of your limits, but I can’t help but want to touch you all the time. I’m— I’m sorry if that sounds indecent.”

Shouto murmurs your name lowly against your ear, his large palm once again rubbing over your spine in an effort to comfort you as he tries to piece together the correct words. “This is… a terrible miscommunication, and it’s all my fault...” he sighs, his voice dropping lower and becoming quieter, his insecurities leaking into his voice. “I’m so sorry to have made you feel like this… I promise that’s not the case.”

His words are enough to numb your worries, and you lean back so you’re able to look him in the eye as you wait for him to continue. He takes a deep breath before he sighs again, knowing he has to tell you the truth now, but worrying that he’s about to ruin everything the two of you have built over these past months.

“The reason that I push you away every time is… well, I—” he gulps nervously, and it’s your turn to look at him with encouragement. You take one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as he tries to find the best way to explain his reasoning. “It’s not because you’re unattractive, it’s— I mean, if anything, you’re too… too attractive, and I get…” he trails off, his cheeks now a bright shade of pink that you’ve never really seen before. It’s the first time you’ve seen the usually collected man so flustered, and a part of you feels guilty for causing him such discomfort. Just as you’re about to cut in and tell him he doesn’t have to continue, he does. “I… I’ve never been with anyone… like that before.”

You blink at him in confusion.

Shouto just seems to get even pinker, and he quickly starts explaining himself as he takes in your dazed expression. “I know you probably thought I had all this experience because I’ve been a top Hero for some time now, but I just— I never met anyone before that cared about me like this and I just never wanted to do— well, to do that with a stranger.”

“You’re… a virgin?”

Shouto’s red at this point, his hot side nearly catching fire as he buries his face behind his hand, too embarrassed to face you at this point. “Yes, I’m sorry to disappoint you, love. I just… I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I— I wanted to impress you so badly, Y/N. I… I should’ve told you this from the start, I’m so sorry to have caused you such doubt.”

His voice is just above a whisper now, his fingers clutching onto the fabric of your shirt as if he’s afraid you’ll get off his lap and walk straight out the front door at his confession. “Shouto…” You can’t stop the smile that begins to curl the corners of your mouth. This is the reason he wouldn’t go any further with you? Not because he didn’t find you attractive? Your heart feels heavy thumping against your ribcage, giddiness flooding your bloodstream.

Your boyfriend gapes at your smile, brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you’re not… disappointed?” At the instant shake of your head, his discomfort eases significantly. “R-Really? But everyone thinks I’m, well… kind of a womanizer I guess, I thought you’d at least expect—”

You click your tongue at him, shaking your head as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “When have I ever given a shit about others’ expectations of you, Shouto? I love you for you, Sho… you make me so happy just as you are.”

Shouto melts at your words, a sigh of relief escaping his lungs as he crushes you to his chest. Your sweet scent fills his nose as he kisses the top of your head, and you bask in his touch as you hug him back. “You’re right, love, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner… I hate that you felt unwanted because of me. I promise, you’re the only one I’ve ever felt this way about, I— I’m so attracted to you as well. I love you so much.”

Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, all the hurt and doubts that built over the last few months dissolving into the shadows. Only the light, warm feeling of your love is left behind, glowing brighter than ever before.

Shouto’s fingers crawl up the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips before you allow him entrance. Your fingers push into his silky hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp and he groans at the action, letting your tongue take control and invade his mouth instead. Your breaths starting to become ragged, you both pull away for a moment to breathe. As you look into each others’ eyes, you both begin to laugh softly, the pair of you equally content with how your heart-to-heart had gone.

“So, you do think I’m sexy, then?” You smirk, pleased with this new knowledge.

Shouto chuckles, nudging your face to the side so he can place a trail of kisses down the column of your throat. “Is that all you got from that?” He teases, nipping at your skin playfully.

You close your eyes, enjoying how his love bites feel on your quickly-heating flesh. “One of a few things…” Your breathing becomes deeper as his lips begin to gently suck on the faded marks he’d just made. “Mmm, Sho~”

He hums as your arms wrap tight around his shoulders, tongue caressing the skin he’s sucked into his mouth. Your thighs twitch on either side of his lap when he pulls away, cold breath cooling the wet, darkened patch of skin on your throat. He swears under his breath as his hands trail down your waist to your hips, thumbs resting on the top of your bottoms.

“Would you, um… want to try something new, then?” You offer, sitting back to look him in the eye, ready to catch any amount of uncertainty in his two-toned gaze. But you find none, for he captures your lips again and nibbles on your bottom lip, another hum or approval vibrating against your mouth.

From there he hands the reins to you, opting to lean back into the cushions of the sofa as your tongue guides his in a slow embrace. Your palms both land on his chest, fingertips starting to massage the thick muscles underneath his t-shirt. Shouto sighs as your hands slide down his torso, and just as they dip underneath he sits up slightly, tearing the flimsy material over his head in one quick sweep. With the fabric out of your way, you try to keep yourself calm, your eyes now feasting on his broad, sculpted chest and abs. Saliva begins to pool in your mouth at the wonderful sight, your tongue poking out to wet your lips as you scan over his physique again and again.

Just as he’s about to make fun of your lustful stare, you move in to place a few light kisses to his jaw and neck, the action making him tense up and flex his gorgeous torso for you. Careful not to leave any marks on his throat, you make your way down his chest, taking a moment to leave a ring of wet smooches around his nipple. The muscles jump again for you, his body sensitive to your foreign touch as you slowly take the bud into your mouth, sucking just enough for him to squirm.

“That kind of… ahh, tickles,” Shouto mumbles as your tongue traces over his skin, his bottom lip between his teeth as you move to the other side of his chest and repeat the action. He sighs as you pull away, welcoming the kiss you place on his lips afterwards. His abs become rigid underneath the slow trail of your fingernails that move south, his eyes opening mid-way through the kiss as your hand grows closer and closer to his pelvis.

Just as he’s about to pull away, you move back from his mouth, your shirt flying over your head and onto the floor behind you. Shouto can barely breathe as he looks at your bare skin, the smooth expanse of your shoulders to your hips on display for him, save for the bra covering your chest. He’s fixated on the tops of your breasts, the round, smooth flesh mesmerizing him completely. Sure, he’s seen your cleavage before, but in comparison to this, that’s nothing.

“W-Wow…” he falters, struggling to tear his gaze off of them. There’s a little bow in the middle of the cloth contraption, and he can’t help but compare the sight before him to a present. Oh, how he wants to unwrap it…

You giggle at his awe-struck expression, your self-esteem soaring higher than it has in months. Just as you’re about to instruct him, he moves a hand to cup one side of your bra, his thumb running over your skin. A whimper escapes you when he squeezes you, his face moving closer so that the tip of his nose runs across your collarbone, his lips ghosting kisses across your chest. You wonder if he can feel your heart racing beneath his lips as they trace the cusp of your bra— how it races when he presses his face between your tits, inhaling the warm, clean smell of you that lingers there. “M-Mphhh, Sho…” you sigh as he sucks a hickey into your skin, his mouth pulling your flesh out from under the fabric cup.

Your hands fumble as they move behind your back to undo the clasp, but Shouto doesn’t have time for that, it seems. Instead, he opts to push the straps from your shoulders, tugging the bottom of the material down your ribs and completely exposing your chest to him without ever moving his mouth from your skin. You still manage to unclasp the confining material, letting it fall to the ground without a care. When he does finally let go of you, he moves back to examine your naked chest, his lower lip disappearing between his straight, white teeth. His eyes are half-lidded, and he dives straight back into your chest, circling around your areola with swift kisses and teasing licks, repeating the same process you had done to him. His warm mouth enveloping your nipple makes you let out a stifled cry, your hips jerking against his lap on their own accord.

Shouto moans at the movement, his hand gently squeezing your other breast as he sucks on the pert bud in his mouth, tongue swirling around it with ease. You reposition so your legs are on either side of one of his, placing your clothed core against the rough material of his jeans and beginning to move your hips in slow, wide movements. It only urges Shouto on, for he switches his attention to the other side of his chest and repeats the same ministrations there, one hand coming to cup your ass and move in tune with your slow gyrations.

At this point you can feel yourself leaking onto your panties, your excitement only multiplying as he allows you to grind against him. You’d never imagined he’d be so eager to touch you, after so much time of him rejecting your advances. But you couldn’t care about that now, with your pussy brushing all over his muscular thigh and his mouth attacking your bare chest. The thrill only increases further when you readjust your hips, moving closer to him and feeling the hardness of his erect cock tucked into the front of his pants. You can feel your cunt twitching around nothing, drooling even more for him as you rub yourself against his front, your head falling back as you start to pant.

Shouto whines at the friction, his face falling into the corner of your neck as he tries to gather himself. Was this what he had been missing out on all this time? He sighs as he wonders what you look like completely naked— how you would look with your legs spread for him, wrapped around his skull, or better yet— his waist. The knowledge that you want him is too tempting— he can’t get enough of you, can’t stop himself from shoving his thumbs under the hem of your bottoms. And then you’re standing, letting your clothing hit the floor and leaving yourself exposed for his eyes, save for your panties which have another little bow at the front. His eyes travel up and down your legs— a part of you that has always attracted him, perhaps a bit too much. They look delicious presented like this before him, bare and inviting all along your calves and thighs, then leading to the panties that barely cover your hips. His cock twitches in his jeans as he inspects the marks he’d just made all across your chest, a possessive conscience inside of him murmuring its satisfaction.

“Is this okay?” You ask as you sink to your knees in front of the couch, looking up at him with cautious, yet lust-ridden eyes. The recognition of your desire makes his own appetite spike, and he nods his affirmation to you.

You smirk up at him, moving closer to him and sliding between his legs. He holds his breath as you start to kiss up his thigh, starting from the inside of his knee and moving your way toward your destination. Your hand reaches up to soothe down his chest, your other hand cupping the underside of his thigh and moving in sync with your mouth. Your fingers finally meet the button on his jeans, and he lets out the breath he was holding as you undo the metal zipper. He helps you peel the denim off his thighs, leaving the material bunched at his knees as you inspect his hard member through his tight, black boxer-briefs. You take a moment to thank whatever God there is for blessing you with such a nice cock; you can tell even through his underwear that he’s long, and thick.

The very tip pokes out of the band at the top, him having tucked it up at some point when the pair of you were initially making out. What you can see is dark pink and glazed with a pearlescent sheen of pre-cum, the material at the top of his briefs slightly damp. The legs on either side of you keep tensing and fidgeting, and as you reach a hand for his shaft his hips shift backwards, away from your touch.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, stroking his thigh as you look up at him. His expression is guarded, but you can see the uncertainty that shines through his gaze, the mask that successfully keeps others out futile to you. “Are you sure you want to continue? It’s okay if we stop here, baby.” You push yourself to sit taller using the tops of his knees, placing a long kiss to his cheek and giving him a nuzzle of understanding.

Shouto frowns, leaning into you and taking a deep breath. “No, I want to… I just, I guess I’m a little nervous? I’m not quite sure what to do…” he explains, unsure of himself.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you reply, kissing his cheek again as you continue. “Just sit back and relax, baby. I promise I’m gonna take care of you, gonna make you feel so good. Let me know if you want to stop at any time, alright?”

He smiles at your understanding, nodding and verbalizing an “Alright” before you capture his lips with yours. You kiss him with all the passion you can muster, and it distracts him enough to relax into the couch cushions, your hand coming up to cup his sharp jawline. Your tongues are busy tangling together when your hand lands on his abs, which jump under your touch but eventually they, too, relax after a few minutes.

When your fingers wrap around his cock through his briefs, he tenses underneath you again, his hips pushing toward you as your hand starts to move up and down. Shouto makes a muffled noise as your hand finds a steady, torturously slow rhythm, your hand squeezing around his thick shaft through the dark, cotton material. His hand comes up to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling slightly. You move your hand in accordance with the muffled sounds that escape him through your kiss, his hushed moans adding fuel to the inferno in your stomach.

After a few minutes of your slow, over-the-briefs handjob, you move back from his searing kiss, a string of saliva extending between your mouths. Your eyes lock with his, intensity sizzling as you both move the briefs off his legs, his cock springing upright in the bottom field of your vision. His length jumps when your fingers brush against the tip, gathering the silvery slickness of his pre-cum and using it to coast your fist down around his shaft, squeezing just enough to create a pleasant tightness around him.

Shouto swears as you start to jerk your fist around his thickness, your smaller hand creating a different sensation and much more appealing visual than the sight of his own fingers wrapped around himself. He moans when your hand glides over the head of his cock, his grip tightening on your hair as his eyelids flutter closed. You kiss his cheek again, catching his attention as he turns to you and allows your tongue to enter his mouth. You take all the whimpers pouring from his lips and greedily swallow them, your lips dancing with his in tune with your strokes.

Slowly you move away from his face, his lips following yours until you gently push him back to rest against the back of the sofa again. He allows you to move him backwards, heaving for air as your hot and heavy kisses leave him breathless. Once you lower your face to his lap, he tenses up, although his hips shuffle forward eagerly. You make sure to lock eyes with him as you move your mouth towards the flushed head of his cock, and you keep his gaze steady as your lips wrap around the very tip of him.

“S-Shit Y/N,” he gasps, watching as his member gradually disappears into your mouth. You glide your lips down his thick length slowly, trying not to overwhelm him as you start to suck on the tip, your hand beginning to jerk his shaft at the same time. When your lips move down, so does your hand, and as Shouto becomes accustomed to the wet, tight heat of your mouth, you slowly take more and more of him into your mouth, until the head of his cock brushes the back of your throat. Shouto throws his head back onto the top of the cushions, a hand pushing his hair off his forehead and backwards as he loudly voices his pleasure in a cacophony of moans.

The noises that slither out of the man underneath you are delicious, and you can’t seem to get enough as your pace begins to pick up. Your hand is still wrapped around the base of his length, his cock too big to fit all the way in your throat, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to take him anyways. Pulling back just long enough to take in a breath of fresh air, you smile at his wrecked expression above you, tongue tracing over your lips. “Mmm, does that feel good, baby? Do you like when I suck your cock like this?”

“Ahhaaaa, fuck— y-yeah, like that, baby… yesyesyes you feel so good,” Shouto blabbers nearly incoherently as your throat glides around his aching member. Given his stuttered response, you happily service him, content to finally have him at your disposal. His length is too impressive to comfortably fit in your mouth, your jaw stretching to accommodate him as you swallow around him, successfully stealing a broken gasp from him in response. You close your eyes and allow yourself to focus on keeping a steady rhythm for both your mouth and hand to follow. His moans just keep getting louder, a breathless array of oh, fuck, shit, yeah, ahh, and yeses with every bob of your head.

As you’re diligently sucking him off, Shouto is barely keeping it together underneath you. His cock is twitching and leaking pre-cum down your throat, his balls heavy with the need to release. He watches your lips move up and down his length, your hand following suit at the very base. His mind wanders as he wonders where you want him to finish; inside your mouth, on your tits, on your face? He groans as he pictures all three, imagining you covered in his sticky seed, wherever it may end up, has him feeling close much too quick. But he can’t stop himself, and he can’t bring himself to stop you, either— you feel so fucking good on his cock. You’re better than he ever could imagine, and it’s just your mouth that’s wrapped around him— he can’t even imagine how between your legs will feel. He barely manages to mumble your name in warning as he feels his climax coming, too charged for him to do anything to stop it.

Luckily you already know he’s about to finish, for his muscles tighten up and strain as ample warning for his imminent release. You move your lips down his cock, taking in as much as you can before he’s calling out your name and shooting a thick, heavy load down your throat. You choke on his release, not much room in your mouth to begin with, with how long and thick he is already. He’s still gushing cum as you pull off of him, a few ropes of white spraying across your lips and chin while his body shakes in ecstasy.

You sit back and wipe his release off your face with your wet hand, licking the excess off your skin as you watch Shouto’s soul return to his body. He’s struggling to catch his breath, eyes barely open as he looks down at you sitting between his legs. Despite the heaviness in his limbs, he still gathers your arms in his hands, pulling you up onto the sofa to hover over his lap. He sighs as he nuzzles his face into your neck, your soft skin helping to draw him back from the euphoric heaven you had just sent him to. His arms wrapping around you loosely, he starts to kiss your neck, his long eyelashes tickling your jaw as he showers your skin in affection. His attention makes butterflies flap around inside your stomach, and that scorching heat ignites again as his fingers slide down your waist to the band of your panties.

You try to draw back to look at him, but Shouto’s grip on you is too secure, and he won’t let you pull away from him as he just nuzzles deeper into your neck. You can’t help but gasp when his fingers dive underneath the sides of your panties— his palms gliding against your bare hips and digits splaying across your ass. “S-Sho,” you whine as he cups your ass cheeks, pulling your hips to slot above his, his cock already erect again. You whimper when he guides you closer to him, the very tip of his cock catching at just the right angle to brush against the wet patch on your underwear. Hell, the whole underside of your panties is soaked with your arousal, your pussy probably more saturated than ever before. You’re so turned on, you can’t think straight as your hips begin to weakly shift back and forth, rubbing his cockhead along your clothed slit.

Shouto sighs as his hand recedes from your panties, instead moving to rub your dripping slit through the drenched material. You moan at the feeling of his hand through the fabric, your slick in such quantity that when he pulls his hand away, a thick string of your arousal trails after his fingers. He groans at the sight, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together to test the viscosity. He makes a mental note that this must be what’s meant when one has a “wap”, or “wet ass pussy”, as he recalls from a certain song. His heart is racing in his chest, the discovery of your cunt so ready for him only making his cock strain harder against your sopping panties.

“So wet…” Shouto mumbles as he touches you again, cupping your core through your underwear and rubbing his palm against your clit. He watches intently as your face contorts in pleasure, and he rolls his palm against your front again experimentally, making a mental note of your increased sensitivity there.

Before he moves any further though, he presses his lips to yours in an intense kiss, successfully distracting you as he slides your underwear to the side. He can feel your pussy twitch and contract against his hand when he lines the tips of two fingers up with the hole that your slick is pouring out of. And he can definitely feel you spasm around him as he slides the digits inside with ease, remembering to curl the tips of them just as the countless guides and videos he had watched in preparation for such activities suggested.

“Y-Yes, ahh my God, Sho—” you gasp at the intrusion, your walls fluttering around the fingers.

His long digits slowly move in and out of you, the tips curling into your spongy walls as they sheath inside you completely. You moan at the sensation of his fingers inside of you, moving a hand to your front to rub your clit. It’s not long before you’re humping his hand, your arousal leaking onto his palm as you seat your hips back and forth on his fingers. Your mouth is hanging open, intense pleasure emanating from his fingertips rubbing that gummy spot located just deep enough for your fingers to be too short to reach. You can feel your orgasm building with each roll of the hips, a slow and steady escalation toward certain ecstasy.

Shouto moans along with you, watching the look of bliss on your face each time you sit back onto his fingers, and committing it to memory. You look absolutely captivating getting off on his hand, but the urge to feel you wrapped around his cock is too strong to ignore. He pulls his hand out of your cunt, watching as the syrupy slick trails after his fingers before severing, the warm, slimy wetness returning to your spread pussy. The sight is too enticing to just look at— he grabs his cock and jerks himself a few times, watching your slick spread across his length. It feels unlike any other lubricant he’s used— spit, lotion, shampoo all nothing in comparison to the sweet nectar your body produces just for him— simply divine.

If he thinks that’s divine, pressing his cock into you is as if the gates of heaven have been exploded open with dynamite, drowning him in a pool of ethereal ambrosia that he never wants to escape. Your walls stretch around his girth and hug him like never before; it’s wetter, tighter, and hotter than anything he’s ever imagined, and if he hadn’t already cum from your mouth just minutes before, he’s sure he would’ve cum right here and now.

You’re just about there, only a third of his cock managing to push into you before your walls start to clamp, that tension in your abdomen intensifying at an alarming rate. You throw your head back and moan unabashedly as his cock glides into you entirely in one movement, your cunt wringing snug around him as you cum. You’d be ashamed if it were with anyone else, but Shouto’s so thick and long that you just let yourself ride out your orgasm, your cunt pulsing and squeezing him tight. It feels like a religious experience cumming on his cock— he’s by far the biggest you’ve ever taken, and it’s been so long since you’ve had sex in the first place that you’re too turned on to care. A fresh wave of slick begins to leak from deep inside you, the aftermath of your abrupt orgasm coming in handy as you finally come-to enough to move your hips.

Shouto’s holding onto you for dear life at this point, knuckles white as his fingers dig bruises into your hips. He’s never been squeezed so tight before— never felt anything like your pussy, like you cumming on his cock. And even though he’s overwhelmed with the mesmerizing feeling, he still manages to keep his cool somehow, now evening his breath as he begins to thrust up into you. He decides he loves your moans— every noise you make from being impaled by his huge cock is music to his ears, a symphony he never wants to end.

“A-Ahaa ha, Shoutooo~” you cry, fireworks bursting across your nerves. “You’re so big, ah— it— it feels so gooood.”

You can’t seem to close your mouth— it’s too hard to focus on anything besides what might as well be his third leg thrusting into you over and over. His movements are relentless; never allowing you to come down from the high you’d been catapulted into with just one stroke of his cock. He’s so big inside of you, he’s probably the largest you can take while still feeling pleasure instead of pain. You feel like you’re the one losing your virginity here, not him— because, God have you never felt so filled to the brim in your life— his cock stretches and penetrates you so deliciously that you feel like any orgasm you’ve had before this doesn’t really count. It can’t count, can’t compare to this, to him.

Shouto is on the same page as you, desperately drilling into your sloppy cunt as if his life depends on it. It feels so good to be squeezed by your tight little hole, to have your fingernails dig crescent-moons into the skin on his shoulder blades, and hear your desperate cries for him. “Fuck, you— you feel so good, baby,” he pants, letting your pussy fall onto his lap and swallow his cock inside of you. “You’re so fucking sexy, y-yeah… so wet for me, so good for me.”

His praise causes a wave of goosebumps to rise across your skin, a burst of energy surging through you as you start to move your hips in sync with his thrusts. Shouto’s pace weakens as he lets you take control, sitting back and absorbing the pleasure that flows through his entire body at the quick snap of your hips. He feels like he’s in a trance as your hands move to grip the tops of his shoulders, leveraging yourself so your hips swing in a perfect arc that allows his cock to glide in and out of you completely. He watches as your hips swing back, the head of his cock slipping out of you halfway, only to be slurped back inside your tight heat all the way to the base.

Sweat is starting to accumulate and drip down your bodies, but neither of you are paying attention to that— Shouto reaches out and gropes your chest, fingers trapping your nipple and rolling it gently. You mewl at the sensation, your hips working even faster now, the dull ache of another climax forming in the pit of your stomach. You furiously hump his lap, your thrusts becoming off-beat and sloppy as your muscles scream with exertion. Frustration blooms in your heart— your stamina must have reduced in the past few months of abstinence.

“Sho, I’m… gonna cum again, fuck I’m so close,” you whine, pushing your ass onto his lap and stirring your guts with his cock as you swivel your hips.

Shouto hums at your confession, an arm winding around your hips and his hand landing on the plush underside of your thigh. His fingers dig into your flesh as he supports your body with his arm, his hips rutting up into yours with force. Each thrust has stars dancing along the borders of your vision, the power behind his hips much stronger than your desperate humping from before.

“I wanna feel you cum on my cock again, Y/N,” Shouto moans, tongue poking out to flick against your nipple, your tits in his face due to the change of position. “Want you to squeeze me and milk everything out of me, y-yeah…”

You nearly scream when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with vigor as those two-toned eyes bore into yours. The surprise quickly morphs into bliss, your cunt wringing around his length as you feel yourself hurtle toward your orgasm for the second time. It’s not long before you’re there, ecstasy rushing through your entirety as you clutch onto him tightly, your toes curling and body shaking from the rush.

“Fuck,” he swears, both hands moving to grab your hips and pound his cock into your quivering cunt, delivering another level of pleasure to your orgasm. His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth, eyes darting between your face and your wet pussy that keeps swallowing him whole. “Ahaah— c-cumming—”

Shouto lets out a loud groan as he pulls out of you, hot, white ribbons of cum spurting across your stomach as he climaxes. Your hand reaches down to jerk him off and he continues to paint your skin with his seed, his body shaking as his orgasm ripples through him. His throbbing length is slick with your love juices, making it easy for your fingers to slide around him.

His head hits the back of the couch as he releases the last of his load, chest heaving while he tries to collect himself. The devastating pleasure of your climax leaves your body feeling weightless and your brain loopy, and all you can do is lean against his athletic physique and catch your breath.

“I love you,” Shouto whispers seriously in your ear, fingers deftly playing with the ends of your hair. He means it; he feels like his heart is so full of happiness, and he’s so comfortable basking in the afterglow of his orgasm with your naked skin on his.

You stifle the laugh that bubbles up in your throat, a small smile playing on your lips. “So sweet~” you tease, cuddling your face into his neck as his hands rub the length of your back. “I love you too, Shouto.”

Shouto hums in content, arms hugging you tight against him for a brief moment before he relaxes again. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he confesses softly, nudging the side of your face with his nose. He can feel your lips turn into a grin against his chest, and he smiles at your content.

“You’re being so sappy right now,” you point out, unable to stop smiling as you turn to look at him. “I really like this side of you, I’m happy to see you like this.”

“I’m happy, too,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against yours in a sweet and short kiss. “I kind of wish we did this sooner though…”

You laugh at that, and his soft smile turns into a grin that he doesn’t bother to conceal. “Mmm, I think it was worth the wait,” you disagree, snuggling closer to him and rubbing your skin against his affectionately.

Shouto looks down at you resting against his chest, examining your blissful smile and eyes closed in content. Yes, he thinks.

You were worth the wait.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

wow that ended so soft pls excuse me im on my period and so emotional at the moment lmfaoooo... okokokok but post coitus snuggly sho is KILLING M E ... anywAYY lol let me know if you enjoyed!! this was kinda different from the usual smut i write so! i’d love any feedback i could get :)

as always, thanks for reading! 💗

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#todoroki shouto smut #todoroki shoto smut #todoroki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my fics

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