#im worried of starting like an emotional affair

[krbkitten]

UUUGGGGHHHH i had another dream about him and he was so perfect and caring and we finally got to actually be together and date and I told him I loved him and it was AMAZING

[tokkiwrites]

𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗. (4)

mom's fiancé! joel miller x f! reader • series masterlist

Summary: Your mom's new fiancé, Joel Miller, is the kind of man you could never shake out of your mind—rugged, rough, and embodiment of your long-buried fantasies. He's been your next-door neighbor for years, and the crush you harbored through your teenage years never really faded. Now, he's with your mom, and they're planning to get married. You should want her to be happy, but you can't ignore the tension growing between you and Joel. It's something that was never meant to happen. But as you uncover Joel's true motives for being with your mom, you realize maybe your feelings weren't one-sided after all. And maybe, despite everything, you’re the one he really wants.

Tags: stepcest kind of, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 40s), forbidden romance, emotional conflict, slow burn, sexual tension, complicated family dynamics, heartbreak, Joel being an emotionally complicated bastard, ANGST, cheating, infidelity, betrayal, talk about divorce, talk about not wanting a child, ANGSTTTT, (marjorie being a mean bitch but also a great plot device!), trauma!!! reader has daddy issues, but dont quote me on that.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ im baaack !! the second to last part is here!! how do we feel so far? IT'S GOING DOWN!! one more chapter, and we will find out if anyone will get a happy ending. who knows.. maybe we'll make a spinoff of this? anyway, this is 3.37k words, so the shortest of the bunch butbi didn't want to add unnecessary smut :') HOPE YOU LOVE IT! not proofread soo if you anything spelled wrong umm close your eyes.

“Glad you could make it,” Marjorie said, closing the door behind you. “I thought we could have a little chat.”

“What do you want? was it really necessary for us to come here?” Joel asked, his tone edged with irritation. "Wouldn't want more people to see us now, right?" She leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms. “I think you both know exactly what I want." You exchanged a worried glance with Joel, trying to gauge how serious she was. “What are youㅡ?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly. Marjorie pushed off the counter and walked towards you, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. “I want you to share him for a bit." she said bluntly, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “You’ve had your fun, but it’s time to let the grown-ups play too. Besides, it’s only fair, isn’t it? After all, we can't let your mom find out about you two..." Your heart sank. “You can’t be serious,” you said, laughing as disbelief washed over you. “Oh, I’m very serious. If you want to keep this little affair of yours a secret, you’ll have to comply with my terms. I’ll tell your mother everything if you don’t.”

“Why would you do this?” Joel’s voice was low, but you could hear the anger simmering beneath the surface. “Because it’s fun, Joel. Because I can. And because your little fling is just that—a fling. I want you back, and I’m not above playing dirty to get what I want.” You felt sick, caught in the middle of a game you never wanted to play. “This isn’t fair,” you whispered, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Life’s not fair, sweetie,” Marjorie shot back. “You should know that by now.”

Joel stepped in front of you, a protective stance that made your heart swell and ache at the same time. “You don’t have to do this. You could just walk away, Marjorie. You’re better than this.” She laughed, a sound that was anything but lighthearted. “Better? Oh, darling, I’m far from better. I’m just getting started. So, that's the deal. You decide now.”

You felt the world around you spin as Marjorie’s words sunk into you like a bullet. “You’re a terrible friend,” you spat, rage and hurt flooding through you. “Your mother is the one who’s a bad friend,” Marjorie retorted, her eyes narrowing. “She knew how I felt about Joel. She knew we were together all those years ago. And yet, she had the audacity to marry him anyway.” Tears burned at your eyes as her words cut deep. “You’re just bitter because he moved on,” you accused.

“Bitter? Maybe. But I’m also vindictive. You’re standing in my way, and I don’t like it.” Joel’s hand squeezed yours tightly, and you could feel the tension. "Oh, so that's the only thing keeping you away? the fact that I am with him and not that he's your best friend's husband?"

"Didn't stop you, honey. And she's your mom." As Marjorie’s laughter echoed around the room, a twisted sense of triumph in her eyes, you felt the walls closing in on you. She was ready to play this game to the bitter end, and the stakes were too high. “Fine,” you said suddenly, surprising both Joel and yourself. “I’ll think about it.”

Marjorie’s expression turned sly. “Good. You have until tomorrow. Make your decision, and let me know. I’ll be waiting.”

On your way back home, the car ride was silent. You turned to Joel, his face a mask of frustration. "What now?" You finally speak up. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised, but the doubt lingered in his eyes. The gravity of the situation bore down more intensely than ever before.

When you got home, the air felt suffocating and so cold at the same time. Your mother had gone to bed early, and joel decided to spend the night at his apartment, closer to where he worksㅡ again. the stillness of the house was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions raging within you. You wanted to scream, cry, and run away from everything that was happening. But instead, you collapsed onto your bed, staring at the ceiling as the reality of your situation washed over you.

The next morning brought with it a sense of impending doom. You felt like you were walking on a tightrope, and the slightest misstep could send you tumbling into chaos. Your mother chatted about her plans for the day, seemingly oblivious to it allㅡ her daughter was fucking her husband. But you couldn’t focus on her words; all you could think about was Marjorie and the ultimatum she had laid before you.

As the day wore on, the burden of your decision weighed heavily on your chest. You knew you couldn’t keep Joel, your mom and Marjorie happy without sacrificing something monumental. The thought of losing Joel made your heart ache, but so did the thought of being betrayed by your own mother. Hours passed, and by the time your mother left for a gathering with her friends from work, you felt like a coiled spring, ready to snap. “I’ll be back late, sweetheart,” she called over her shoulder, and for a moment, you felt that flicker of guilt in your very sould again.

With the house empty, you sank into the couch, pulling out your phone and staring at it, waiting for Joel to text. The minutes turned into hours, and just as doubt began to creep in, your phone buzzed, a message from him lighting up the screen.

• Meet me at our spot?

Your heart raced, and you felt a surge of trepidation.

• I’ll be there.

You arrived at the secluded spot by the river, where the world felt far away. Joel was already waiting, leaning against his truck, the setting sun casting a warm glow on his rugged features. When he saw you, a relieved smile broke across his face. “Hey, you,” he said, pulling you into a tight embrace. You melted against him instantly, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, pulling back to look into his eyes. “Marjorie is insane...”

but maybe so were you.

“Don’t worry about her,” he said, voice steady. “I won’t let her hurt you. We’ll figure this out together.” But even as he spoke, you could see the doubt flickering in his eyes. “She wants me to share you with her, Joel, what the actual fuck?" you whispered, the words feeling heavy and bitter on your tongue. “She can’t have you. You’re mine.” But then reality crashed in, and you felt the tears prick at your eyes. “What if she really tells mom?” you asked, desperation threading through your voice.

“Then we’ll deal with it. Together.” his hands were cupping your face, thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “I love you. You know that, right? No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere, baby." but the words felt hollow. “What if this is all my fault?”

“It’s not,” he insisted, his grip firm, eyes fierce. “We’re not doing anything wrong. We love each other. That’s what matters. ain't nothin' wrong with lonving somebody."

yeah, your mom's husband.

You wanted to believe him, to let those words wash away the doubts, but all was a threat and it loomed large, an insidious whisper in the back of your mind, reminding you that love alone might not be enough to shield you from the consequences of your actions. "Mom wouldn’tㅡ she will not understand, Joel. She’ll be devastated.”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said again, his voice firm, but you could sense the uncertainty lingering beneath the surface. “We can go to her together and explain it all. You’re everything to me, baby, you know that. this is just a lessonㅡ people will always try and come between us.” Just like you came between him and your mom.

You wanted to believe him, but fear clutched at your heart like a vice. “What if she gets angry and takes it out on you?” Even now, he was all you cared about. The thought was unbearable. “I can handle it,” he said, determination lighting his gaze. “No one is going to make me not love you, babygirl.”

Finally, you took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I have to go home.” His expression shifted, disappointment mingling with concern. “Are you sure? We can stay a little longer—”

“I have to think. About everything.”

maybe love won't save it all.

The walk home felt like a thousand miles, each step heavy with dread. You replayed everything in your mind. was it really worth it? Was Joel worth it? Was your mom worth it?

the house was quiet, the only sound being the faint ticking of the clock in the hallway. You slipped inside, the darkness wrapping around you like a shroud, and paused for a moment to collect your thoughts. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of the door opening. You froze, your heart racing as you turned to see your mother step inside, her face illuminated by the hallway light. She looked tired but happy, her laughter still lingering in the air as she made her way toward you.

“Oh, sweetheart! You’re back!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a warm embrace. You inhaled her familiar scent, a mixture of lavender and home, and felt a surge of guilt wash over you. “Hi, mom,” you said, your voice betraying the turmoil inside you. She smiled, but it faltered as she took a closer look at your expression. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I... it’s nothing,” you replied too quickly, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. Your mother’s brow furrowed in concern. “You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right, ladybug?” A lump formed in your throat, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. “Yeah, I know.”

This was it.

The moment where everything hung in the balance, teetering on the edge of no return. You knew what you had done was wrong—there was no denying it. No sugarcoating, no excuses. But as awful as your betrayal was, letting her find out from someone else, someone who wanted to hurt her for sport would be even worse. It would be cruel, cowardly, and the final twist of the knife. The only thing you could do now, the only thing that held even a shred of dignity or decency, was to take control of the narrative. To tell her the truth yourself. Not because it would fix anything—nothing could. but because it was the last way to show her respect. The last chance to do something for her that wasn’t tainted with deceit or manipulation.

You owed her that much. Even if she hated you forever, even if she never looked at you the same way again, it would come from you— not from Marjorie or anyone else who wanted to see her destroyed. You had already broken her heart, but you couldn’t let them shatter her spirit. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself. It felt impossible, like standing in front of a firing squad, but you had to do it. The power had to be yours. This was the only way to make sure she knew the truth wasn’t a weapon someone else could wield against her.

You looked at her. If you’re going to lose everything, at least lose it by owning what you did. Not by running away.

“Mom, can we talk?” The words rushed out before you could second-guess yourself. She turned, her expression now serious. “Of course, honey. What’s on your mind?” You hesitated. You wanted to tell her everything—about Joel, about Marjorie, about the love that was blossoming in the shadows. You had to. “Just... something.” You started biting your lip.

"Something?" she pressed, her voice calm but with an undercurrent of concern. She stepped closer, her eyes searching your face as if trying to read your thoughts. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” Your chest tightened, the truth pressing down on you like a boulder. “It’s about Joel,” you blurted out, unable to stop the words from spilling over. Her face stiffened at his name, her posture straightening. “What about Joel?” she asked, her tone sharper now. The air grew heavier with each passing second, the silence between you stretching like a chasm. "Did he do anything to you?" her worry was obvious.

"N-no..." You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice. “We’ve... been seeing each other.” The words were heavy and raw. Her face shifted, confusion and disbelief warring for dominance. “What do you mean ‘seeing each other’?” she asked with a laugh, though you knew she understood exactly what you meant. “I mean we’ve been... together,” you admitted. Her face twisted. “Together?” she repeated, the word snapping like a whip. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “Mom, I love him.” Her laughter was harsh, bitter. “You love him? Joel? My husband? Your stepdad?” Her voice cracked with fury and pain.

You hated to hear that. You hadn’t realized quite yet who he was to you. "He's not my dad, momㅡ"

“How long has this been going on?” she interjects. “Since... before the wedding,” you confessed, and the words hit her like a physical blow. She staggered back, her hand flying to her chest. “Before the wedding?” she repeated, her voice trembling. “So you’ve been lying to me this entire time? Both of you?" Tears streaked her face, but they did nothing to soften the anger in her eyes. “How could you? How could heㅡ ?!” Her voice rose. "Is this some kind of sick fucking joke?" her voice cracking. "It's not a joke, Mom," you said, your voice trembling. "I didn't want this to happen, but it did. I—"

"Didn't want this to happen?" she cut you off, her eyes blazing. "You expect me to believe that? That it just... happened? His dick just fell into you, right? You betrayed me! My own daughter, with my fucking husband!" She threw her hands up, pacing the room like a caged animal, her anguish filling every corner. “You’ve destroyed everything—everything! How long have I been the fool, sitting at home, playing happy family while you... while you—”

“Stop it!” you shouted, your voice breaking. “You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand?!” she snapped, whirling to face you. “You don’t think I understand betrayal? You don’t think I know what it feels like to be stabbed in the back by the two people who should love me the most?” Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing erratic. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said desperately, tears spilling freely now. “But I love him, Mom. I love him.”

“You love him?” she echoed mockingly. “You love my husband? Do you even hear yourself? What kind of daughter—what kind of person does this?” The venom in her voice stung, but you couldn’t back down now. “I’m not proud of this,” you said, your voice quiet and steady. “But it’s the truth. I love him, and he loves me.” Your voice rises again. She stared at you in disbelief, her jaw tightening. “Loves you?” she spat, her tone dripping with scorn. “Is that what he told you? That he loves you? That this is some grand romance and not just another one of his selfish, disgusting whims?”

“Stop it,” you said quietly, but she pressed on, her anger building like a storm. “Do you even know him?” she hissed. “The real him? Or are you just blinded by whatever lies he’s been feeding you? He’s a liar, a manipulator, and now he’s turned my own goddamn daughter against me.”

“You don’t know anything about us!” you shot back, your voice rising to match hers. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever been hurt? The only one who’s ever felt unloved? You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand?” she interrupted, her voice rising to a shout. “What don’t I understand? That you’re selfish? That you’re reckless? That you’ve thrown away everything we had for... for him?” The words hit you like a slap, but they also ignited something inside you. “You don’t get to stand there and pretend you’re some kind of victim!” you yelled. “You’re not perfect, Mom! You’re not blameless!” Her face twisted in rage and pain. “So now this is my fault?” she demanded. “You’re blaming me for your choices? For his choices? You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m not blaming you,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion, as you were sobbing. “But you don’t get to act like you’re innocent either. You’ve pushed people away your whole life, and now you’re acting surprised that someone finally—"

“Stop,” she said coldly, her voice low but dangerous. “Don’t you dare try to twist this around. Don’t you dare try to justify what you’ve done.” The room fell silent for a moment. Finally, she spoke again, her voice quieter but no less filled with anger. “I gave you everything,” she said, her voice shaky. “I sacrificed everything for you. And this is how you repay me?”

“I know you didn’t want me,” you suddenly snapped, the years of buried hurt rising to the surface. “I always heard you fighting with Dad, saying I was your biggest mistake! Isn't that why dad left?" Her eyes widened, stunned by the shift in the conversation. “What?” she said, her voice barely audible. “I know,” you repeated, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. “I heard it all. I wasn’t deaf, Mom. I was a kid but i wasn't fucking stupid! I knew you never wanted me.”

Her face hardened, a mixture of guilt and defiance flashing across her features. “Of course, I didn’t fucking want you!” she shouted, the admission slicing through the air. “I was twenty years old! I didn’t want a kid, and guess what? I can’t change that! I can’t just grab you and shove you back into my fucking uterus, can I? But i didn't abandon you, Iㅡ"

“I already knew that,” you whispered, your voice hollow. “You didn’t know,” she snapped, her eyes blazing. “You didn't know shit! You’re just trying to make me the bad guy so you can feel better about the awful, disgusting thing that you did.” The room seemed to pulse. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “But it did, and I can’t change it.” She shook her head, her hands trembling. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” she said, her voice breaking. “You’ve destroyed everything. Our family. My marriage. Everything.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, the words feeling inadequate even as they left your lips. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I can’t help how I feel.”

“You’re just like him,” she spat. “Selfish. Just like your fucking dad."

taglist ⭐️ ㅡ @eviispunk @joeldjarin @whimsiwitchy @guelyury @untamedheart81 @dollyxzy @mybvalentine @am-3-thyst @klajmekk @cuteanimalmama @corinnedollete @vickie5446 @gabymalikk

[roadkillremi]

Quote 24 smut with billy pleas🩷🩷

I can do that!!!

24. "I wouldn't imagine breaking your underwear rule." (Billy Loomis says this to Sydney Prescott)

Masterlist 300 Event

Billy Loomis X F!Reader

Summary: after a long day of "busy" work Billy wants some company. Reader and Billy are 18+

Warnings : MINORS DNI, smut, p in V, unprotected, Billy kinda pressures?, He has a knife, language, he uses that knife to carve his initial into you, a bit of praise.

You read a book in your room while your music played. You softly hummed to yourself flipping through your book. A soft knock interrupted you, you looked up and walked towards your window. You moved your curtains over to reveal Billy looking into the window. You softly smiled and opened your window.

"Billy. It's 9pm." You leaned towards him. He smiled, "I know. It's more fun this way.". You moved to the side to let him in. He climbed through and looked around. You had music and movie posters on the walls. He always found it interesting to look at them.

"Let me guess you got done at Sydney's and had to go to your secret affair?" You gave him a look. Billy shook his head, "I didn't come from Sydney's.".

"you just came to a losers house for fun?" You tilted your head.

You weren't part of his friend group, and you had no desire to be part of it. You met Billy through Randy Meeks. You were a frequent customer of Bradley's video store. You had a routine, Friday you get food, get a movie, and pass out. Billy seems to figure out your routine and joined you one night. You were scared you were just another girl. You heard the rumors about Christina, you didn't wanna end up like her. So you told him you wouldn't sleep with him, which made him more eager to see you.

He softly smiled at you, "You're not a loser...". You shrugged, "Just a random girl Billy Loomis is visiting.". He looked down, "You're not... Random.". You sighed, "Billy I was joking-".

"I told you I.. I like being around you.".

"So that's why you ignore me at school? It makes total sense." You argued. You shook your head, "I told you im not some... Some-".

"slut?" Billy asked looking at you with a smirk. He stared at your exorcist poster, "I know you're not.".

"What do you want Billy?" You asked softly. He looked at you and slowly scanned your body.

"You."

"I told you I can't ... You're dating Sydney!" You said putting your hands to your face.

"When did you start caring about Sydney?!" Billy scoffed.

"Last I checked her and Tatum teased you." He added. You looked up at him, "Shut the fuck up.". You stood up, he softly smiled.

"See? Sydney's not like you. She cares too much... About herself... she's a push over too. She's always scared and shit. But you... You don't care. You like the dark stuff... Like me...".

"Then break up with her." You crossed your arms. Billy shook his head, "I told you it's difficult, her mom died.".

"I'm aware." You muttered. Billy stepped closer, "I just need you... It was a rough day okay?!" His voice grew more irritated. He sat on the edge of your bed and stared at the wall ahead of him.

"My dad... He's an asshole... You understand that... You're mom left too..." Billy tried to shove his emotions back. You stepped towards him, "I know... I'm sorry...". He hugged your torso burning his face in your stomach. You ran your fingers through his hair, "I'm sorry I fussed at you. I'm just... Worried.".

"I know." He glanced up at you. You looked over at your TV, "Do you wanna watch the exorcist?".

"We watched that last time...".

"it's my favorite." You whisper. He nods, "sure.". You turn on your TV and set up the Exorcist. Once you sat by Billy on your bed you leaned on his shoulder. He'd slowly start kissing your head, then cheek, then neck. You breath a bit heavier and grab his arm.

"What are you doing?" You asked softly. He looked at you, "I'm kissing you.". He then gently kissed you on the lips. You gave in to him leaning into his touch. His hands slid behind your back and he pushed his body towards you more. He positioned you beneath him as he continued to kiss you. His hand moved towards your pajama pants. His fingers wrapped around the elastic, you backed your face away from his.

"Billy..."

"Don't worry. I wouldn't dream of breaking your no underwear rule." He sounded annoyed.

Your stomach noted, he complained about Sydney being the same way in the past. You took a Shakey breath, "No..". He looked up at you, "I want to tell you I'm ready.". His eyes went wide and then he smirked. He kissed you before sliding off your pajama pants.

"That's my girl." He whispered. You grinned, His girl... You grabbed his face pulling him into a kiss. He grunted lowly, he pulled away to examine your face. You gently smiled at him, he sat up unbuttoning his blue shirt. You leaned up slightly on your elbows to watch him. He stared directly in your eyes as he took off his white t-shirt. Your eyes traveled down his slightly toned body. You sat up and took off your shirt as a response. He smirked laying you back down. He trailed his face down your neck. You felt his nose slightly touch your skin. He kissed your collarbone a couple times before biting it. You gasps your hands clinging to your bed. Billy softly chuckled, his laugh vibrating onto your skin.

"Billy.." you softly whispered, he looked up quickly.

"Yes?"

"I..I'm scared.. n-not scared but nervous..". You looked off to the side. Billy smiled, "It's okay. I'll take... Good care of you.". He leaned back down to kiss your collarbone. His hands slid to your hips, "So beautiful" he muttered. He sat up pulling a pocket knife from his back pocket. He flicked it open cutting the sides of your underwear. He threw the piece of fabric to the side. Your eyes widen at the scene, your heart pounded. He started unbuckling his belt and taking off his jeans.

"Gonna take real good care of you..." He whispered. You watched his knife carefully, he glanced up at you and then looked at the knife. He smiled, "Not scared of this old thing are you?". You shook your head, "No." You gave him a small pathetic smile. He leaned closer to your face, "Are you scared of me?". The blade contacted your thigh, you jumped a bit.

"No.". He smirked, "You really are something else" he softly chuckled. He kissed you before returning to his position. He took his boxers off revealing himself to you. You stared down at him unsure of how to respond.

It sprung up against his stomach and was easily 7ish inches. Your eyes widened and you looked up at Billy.

"Don't worry.." he rubbed the tip in-between your folds. "It'll only hurt for a moment." He smiled. He soon thrust himself in, causing a loud gasp. He quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

"Don't wanna wake up your folks now do you?" He whispered. You shook your head no, he smiled and slowly thrusted. You tried to relax your body giving into the feeling. His hand was still planted in your mouth while his other gripped your hip and held his knife. He looked into your eyes showing no sympathy. He breathed heavily sometimes letting out a grunt.

You hand grabbed his wrist to the hand covering your mouth. He grinned down at you, observing you like a piece of art. He slowly removed his hand from your mouth.

"I.. wanna.. hear you.." he said in between breaths. Your breathing was jagged and your body was tense. Your eyes rolled back as you arched your back. His arms wrapped around you back. He pulled you closer using your position to use you more. Billy groaned watching your face contort.

"so good..." He mumbled watching you. You moaned in response, you reached for his shoulder to grab on for support. A coil twisted in your stomach as you got more intense.

"Let it happen." Billy whispered knowing you were close. Your legs spasmed as you whined. Billy gently laid you back down, "Good girl." He smiled. He took his knife carving a B into your hip. You hissed softly, "What was that?". Billy just smirked and got up putting his clothes back on.

"You're leaving?" You whispered. Billy looked over "We have school tomorrow. But.. I promise I'll break up with Sydney by the end of this week.". You nodded, "okay. Bye Billy..". He leaned down to kiss you, "Bye.".

A week later

"Billy Loomis visited you?"

"Yes.. but I didn't know!"

"Did he mention anything?"

"He.. he mentioned breaking up with Sydney at the end of the week."

"Is that all?"

"He told me not to go to the party... I didn't know why.. well.. I do now."

[vorenado-m]

happy disability pride month! please consider helping me take back my life as a disabled person!

the TL;DR is that for the last 3 months i have had an absolutely soul-sucking miserable minimum wage retail job that, due to the way scheduling works (and the app being broken as fuck) has prevented me from having access to literally any of the life-saving mental health/medical care i need as a disabled person.

my disability is best managed through a combination of medication, therapy, and casework-- not a single one of which i have had since march! :) contextually, up until i got this job, i took three daily medications and had casework once a week and therapy once or sometimes twice a week. these services are offered at an affordable cost to me through a local organization that is threatening to close my case due to lack of participation.

ill make another, more detailed post later with some of the services i can offer for money (i draw! i code! i write!) but until then here is a code you can scan if you have a few dollars to spare:

there are more details beneath the cut (idk about you guys but im kinda nosy so i wrote some more stuff in case anyone else is also nosy) but thats the gist of it. you can also always ask for details. i dont have a therapist right now so it might feel good to say things.

my plan is as follows: i would like to take the month of july more or less "off" from work to get my affairs in order, starting with scheduling appointments for therapy and casework and getting back on my meds. i am actively looking for a job, but i would like the ability to be somewhat picky instead of applying everywhere i think might have me for the sake of having money coming in to pay rent.

for the last two years i have made less than $800/mo and i can survive on roughly $600-$650 a month. my july rent ($550) is paid and my august rent (at least $500) is most likely also squared away, through a combination of some cash i was hoarding, a previous donation, my last expected paychecks from my current job, and my brother generously offering to cover whatever is left over. the extra $100ish is for roughly a months supply of the food that is part of my daily routine that i get cranky without (i have tea every morning, for instance.)

i have a fantastic roommate who is not struggling as much financially who will do everything in her power to make sure i have access to staple foods (rice, eggs, etc) so i really just need to buy the things only i consume (kimchi, milk, etc.) there is a food bank i go to, so i am not worried about food, but i can only go to it once per month. we have a barter system where i trade her the things i dont want from the food bank and she buys me things i will eat; alternatively, i sometimes give her things i get from the food bank (eg meat) that she turns into meals for both of us.

i live independently/"alone" with roommates and do not have support from my family pretty much at all. they have never been particularly useful for emotional support and have openly denied me financial support since i was a teenager. moving in with them/getting help from them/talking to them is not an option.

i have emailed my caseworker at the mental health organization i work with as well as my caseworker with the disability vocational program i work with to help me find a new job that is "back of house" and requires less customer interaction. i did this over the weekend, so i expect to hear back from them sometime this week. in the meantime, i am searching for jobs on my own in places like indeed, jobhat, careerbuilder, etc. as well as checking company websites of places like chain grocery stores to see what is available in my area.

my job pool is a bit limited due to the fact that i cannot drive (due to both my disability and the medication im supposed to be taking for it) but i am very well-versed at taking the bus, which is free. getting to and from work is not a concern for me; it is being able to do the job without being driven to the edge of a mental breakdown that is the problem.

the disability vocational program is my ticket out of poverty! last month i had a follow-up evaluation (i had to call out of work for it, but frankly i was at the end of my rope then too) where they approved my career goals as a web developer and we are in the process of deciding what my next steps are! the program will likely (depending on what route i take) help pay for vocational training, too, but i obviously have to pay rent while in training. which i think i can do if i have a job that doesnt make me want to die.

i have some other things that make my life a bit harder (im mixed race, i am nonbinary + gay, etc) but i would say those things dont really impact my ability to get a job as much as the disability does LOL which is why i did not feature them prominently in this post. like, the reason i cant get a job isnt because people dont want to hire me because i have blue hair and pronouns, its because im obviously disabled.

if you have any other questions, no matter how intrusive you think they might be, feel free to send a DM or an ask, and i will try to answer.

[fallenclan]

Sparrow padded up to her long-time friend, a rabbit dangling from her jaws. "Mornin', Jattelik." The tom lifted his head, gaze weary. He had been slowing down as of late, and Sparrow had begun to worry.

"Hm." Jattelik wrapped his tail tighter around himself, regarding Sparrow neutrally from his perch upon a rotten log. "Who's your friend?"

"Friend?" Sparrow dropped her catch, glancing around. "What are you talking about?"

Jattelik instantly leapt to his paws, springing to Sparrow's side. "You were followed." Teeth glinting, the tom took a menacing step towards the trees shading his home (a small glade---the hollow log was where he slept each night). Jattelik might be old, but not so old as to be unable to defend himself and his friend from some ill-meaning rogue. "Show yourself!" he hissed to the trees.

After a few moments of hesitation, a brown tom slid through the trees. "Hello." His voice was soft-spoken, a stark contrast to his matted fur and hollow gaze.

"This rabbit belongs to us. If you were even considering stealing it from Sparrow, I'll use your pelt to line my nest," Jattelik snarled.

"Now, Jattelik, we don't know that this cat is a threat to us," Sparrow chided, but Jattelik remained tense.

The stranger sat down, still quite a distance away from the two friends. "I don't want to fight. I was just curious about you." The tom's gaze was on Sparrow. "I've seen you before."

Jattelik grumbled to himself, tearing off one of the rabbit's legs to gnaw on. Sparrow appeared disconcerted. "That right? I don't recognize you." A pause. "The name's Sparrow."

"Otterslip."

Jattelik guffawed, mouth half full. "What kind of a name is that?"

"Don't be rude," Sparrow shoved him.

Otterslip shrugged, unoffended. "It's a clan name."

"Oh." Sparrow exchanged a glance with Jattelik. "I see." Otterslip waited, expectant. With a sigh, she began. "I used to be a part of a group of rogues. We'd banded together after another group, some clan, took over our territory. Chased us off."

A shadow passed over Otterslip's gaze. Scorchstar had said FallenClan's territory was abandoned when she had arrived. This cat must be mistaken, he decided.

"They---my old group---decided to attack the clan. It was a bloody affair. I wanted no part of it, so they threw me out. I lingered in the mountains for a few days, but some of the clan cats found me, chased after me with a vengance." Sparrow shivered. "I guess they assumed I had something to do with the attack. Now I live here. Haven't heard of any clan cats since."

Sparrow left out the part where she had wandered, wounded by FallenClan claws, for days, delirious and starving. Jattelik had found her and nursed her back to health. It had been the start of a long friendship, and now she considered the tom her dearest companion.

"If you had nothing to do with the attack, I have no grievances with you." Otterslip turned to pad off but halted after a few steps. "Do you know a cat named Lee? Was he in your... group?"

"Lee? No." Sparrow chuckled. "Lee's a sweetheart. Haven't seen him much lately, though."

"You know anything about that?" Jattelik cut in, gaze narrowing sharply. If this "Otterslip" was asking about Lee, maybe he had done something to the kindly old tom.

"No." Otterslip's tone was flat, leaving no room for arguement. Just as quickly as he came, he vanished, disappearing into the forest.

"How odd," Sparrow remarked, settling beside Jattelik to finish off the rabbit. Jattelik didn't reply, unnerved. He didn't like the idea of some so-called clan cat from the mountains lurking about.

"Why don't you spend a few nights here? I've got plenty of room in my den."

"Your log, you mean?" Sparrow laughed, shaking her head. Her amusement faded when she noticed Jattelik's dark expression. "All right. If it'll make you feel better."

"It will."

-🐉

AUGHH THIS IS SO GOOD!!!!!! im feeling emotions about the outsiders now,, i love how everyone perceives Otterslip as just some Weird Gross Guy <3

he followed Sparrow and she didn't even realize... do you think he was using the silent stalking technique

[iamgrape]

Gluttonous Love♡lust 6

Niki being Niki.

Previous || CH 6 || Next

➴.

"...(◕દ◕)" You look at Niki for a moment who seems to be a deep thoughts while he take a bite of his meal.

" You won't question why I'm asleep for almost the whole day?" You always wonder why Niki don't question you, or your odd habbit.

" Hmm? I don't think I should prey into your affairs." He already know why to begin with. He wonder what made you start such topic.

" Your not curious?" You pout. You wonder if Niki is being a dummy or your being a dummy of putting your self in a risk if you suddenly expose yourself. But living with him under a year made you felt bad for not telling him anything.

"Don't you know curiosity kills the cat, master?" He stared at you (color) eyes. "But if you want, you could always tells me."

"... I..." You gaze at Niki beautiful blue eyes, having a long eye contact. "You won't hate me?" Your voice almost sound mick.

" Why would I hate my master?"

" What if... What if... I'm not human...(◕દ◕; )" you nervously look at your hands in your lap, fidgeting and afraid what's his reaction is.

" Hmm? My master is not human~? Ahaha~" Niki chuckle as he realize it seems that you wanna confess your identity to him.

maybe if he don't snoop around in your defenseless form when sleeping, he will know the truth from you with you willing tell him. After all his master often the type that would feel guilty about something through their himedere/oresama facade.

"That's fine. I don't mind if your not human. After all. I'm not human either~" he stared into your eyes, when you finally look up to him with a nervous face. He watch as your face brighten when you heard his reply but still nervous about something.

"...(◕દ◕; ) w-will... That's good.. ahaha... B-but what if ... Hypnotically speaking ok? You find out i-im not send by that f-friend of yours... Ahmmm....." You were in verge of tearing up. Shaking like a hopeless prey that cannot stop their death, to be cooked.

"N-niki...??? A-are you mad...??(◕દ◕;; )". You saw how his eyes being scary, his eyeing you as if his gonna eat you alive, sound kinky but he probably mean literally. You can't help but felt chill.

"Are you... Are you... Gonna hate mmmmeee....?*hic..." Tears start to fall from your eyes as you realize he probably will hate you. No, his gonna hate you and eats you.

NIKI STOP IT!

he snap his own thoughts by his own nails digging into his tight, the pain snap him out of his deranged thoughts And the sight of you looking at him oddly.

It was so weird to be stared like a beast by you... Why would you look at him like that? No. Your looking at him in worry of something else...! You won't look at him like his sort of a monster right...?

" Ah? Sorry about t-that...ahaha..." Niki give a apologetic smile. His aura of a predator slip away as he close his eyes. "Please don't cry." He stood up from his seat as you start to sob and rock yourself in your chair. Like a little kid.

"Shhh... I won't hate you.." he softly wipes your tears away. "Please don't cry. It's ok." He cooed as he carried you in his arms and start to hummed a tone as he tried to calm you down but you continue to weep while leeching onto him.

"Huhu. You will! I'm a bad and a liar! Im bad!" Maybe the fact you haven't feed well enough for a lust demon, made you experience emotional moment like, a sign that you becoming far too weak. Maybe you'll be awake less than you did yesterday.

"Shh... It's ok, it's really ok." Niki felt hopeless as he cannot stop your tears drenching him. He felt bad, yet he don't quite understand your acting right now.

"..." You suddenly pause. You stopped crying or shaking.

"MC?" He was worried what's up with you now. He felt hungry when he realize the situation is very complicated and the fact your very close to him with the alluring delicious scent of yours made him even more in a dare situation but his use to control his hunger to some extreme intent.

"...here have an arm." You suddenly said, you thought about it. Niki probably too nice to you, maybe his just saying that cause your a pitiful demon his taking care off. You remember his a gluttony, your a lust demon. You probably taste delicious. Literally.

"Huh? " Now he doesn't understand whats going on your mind now, as you pout while shove your arm into his mouth. "Hey-hmm..." "He can't even say anything when your being pushy at it again.

"I won't die. A bite won't hurt... I t-think.(っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ so here have a bite. Master is a bad master..." You really want to repay Niki and apologize to Niki.

"Master is willing to feed my servant with my delicious flesh." You actually not sure if it's going to hurt bad or not but for sure. You'll heal right away.

"..." His blue eyes stared directly in your eyes, scanning your emotions and looking deep into your soul. Trying to see what's wrong with your head right now. But as your soft and aromatic flesh is right beside his mouth.

He can't help but gulp. His eyes suddenly darken as he look at your eyes for one last time which you nodded tearfully, more so fearing it would hurt than his taking a meat off you.

"What if... I get addicted to it?" He mumble as he slowly open his mouth his to tongue want to lick yet he stopped himself, wanting to take a bite yet he don't, he continue to have an eye contact with you, daring you to blink so he would stop this stupid charades you did out of being emotional.

"I-i... I don't think I'll die... I mean... Lust demon won't die being eaten... That's just being another category of p-preference..." You gulp as you felt your throat dry up by how seggsy his starring at you.

"..." You push your hand to his mouth more. Pouting why his not eating yet. " Servant you don't think I'm delicious enough to eat? (｡•́3•̀｡)?" You pout, not knowing what to offer Niki for being too nice to you.

His so nice to you. Offering a bite or two is something you can offer as you don't get a job either for the pass year. You lived a free loader who only know how to sleep, watch cartoon, wat and hug Niki before sleeping again.

"Ahaha~dont worry, master smell really nice~" he shook his head at your words. He chuckle a bit as he give you a soft smile. "Do you know...I use to have people come and go in my life. I have bad tendency. Even if I get close to a human, it would just me a spider and web of lies to eat my prey." Niki put down your hand as he wipe the remaining tears in your face and fix your messy face from crying too much.

"I was worried for a moment you know? When you come into my house. I usually won't try to eat unwilling victims because they have much life to give... The fact I thought Rinne is behind your appearance made me stop the urges as you probably come into my life because of order of the higher up, I cannot disobey the higher up or I'll be hungry without them paying me..." He was an underdog to people who offer him money to buy food or the chance to get a meal without his conscious and guilt getting the best out of him if he take a random victim.

He look at you who he been taking care and feeding since last year. He don't have enough for one but seeing you happily eat his meal makes him happy, someone who enjoyed his cooking.

His company. You won't look at him like his an outcast. Oh his precious master... ~ wouldn't do that right ?

Maybe they'd why he don't continue eliminating you out of his life when he knows your secret months ago. He grown attach to you.

No... it's not maybe. It is the reason. His precious master... So hopeless and delicious...

"But I wanted to eat you... After all, Your so delicious, your scent is driving me mad....~" he circle his arms around your waist, his head leaning and resting on your right shoulder blade his right hand reach up to your shoulder blade to trace his nails in a straight line.

"Awwwhmm...."You felt something sharp against your fresh and whimper in pain as his nails pierce through your flesh

"You taste very Divine..."he give a soft kiss as he lick the blood from the wound he made. He can't help but sigh in relief as he felt his hunger being erase but...

"MC..." He felt strange but he expected such effect. He don't know your that too clueless what you wanted to offer him, the consequences of you, offer of your flesh as a Lust demon to a gluttony.

"Should I feed you properly too?" His blue eyes that slowly enveloped by lust. A soft smile on his face as he look at his pitiful master who unable to feed properly for along time.

Oh master of mine... What would you do without me~?

"Hmm?" You hummed not able to see his gaze as he tilt your head upright and slowly lean in to give you a passionate kiss...

[bew-berry]

Hoo boy I had an infuriating night last night and to take my mind off it i started thinking about writing aus. I've reached the "how would my characters die in aus" part of creating because I'm in a foul mood and I made myself very sad now rather than angry. It's pretty obvious who is who if you follow my oc posts which I doubt many do. That's fine. I dont post much about them anymore...at least not here. I've mostly moved them elsewhere.

I'm not killing them off. That'll never ever happen. This was just a thought that became a thing and it got me thinking what ifs and it got dark. Im sure every creator goes through it and has like dark aus for ocs. I see those posts talking about giving them fucked up lives for fun. This wasn't fun for me though. Anywho in order from oldest to youngest:

A: Domestic abuse and was possibly pregnant from a forced time. She wouldn't have known yet but was starting to suspect. Is found bruised and battered lying over broken glass by the stairs. She had been isolated from her family so they didn't know how bad it was. She did a great job playing it off like nothing was wrong to not worry them even though some of the sisters knew better.

C: Killed by fiancé's mistress but not before being taken and brutally tortured for days. Is found later when it's too late and it's so bad she can't be identified right away. Fiancé had no part in it even though he becomes the prime suspect. She had found out about the affair and wanted to leave but he wanted to work things out and ended affair with his mistress to prove it. Mistress loses her mind and takes revenge.

M: Eating disorder (ano/bul) caused by mental/emotional/verbal abuse and heartbreak from her narcissistic boyfriend who intentionally gets involved with her cousin towards the end just to hurt her and throws it in her face. He knows how to keep her and tears her down if he sees any glimpse of light or joy in her eyes because he thinks it's funny. She likely has a couple of nervous breakdowns throughout the whole thing making her very sick to the point of no return.

L: Suicide. Becomes severely depressed after losing an important person in her life. Never comes out of it. Self harms to cope and takes pills to knock out all the time. Just gives up and spirals further as her mental health declines. Increases sleeping pills to avoid real life. She is found at home in the tub with the bottle of pills by the foot of the tub.

And the remaining family likely in a tragic accident at the family restaurant. Maybe a fire or robbery gone wrong.

I will never kill my girls or their family off, and it hurt me when this shit came to mind, but oh well. Sometimes that's the direction the mind goes when creating stuff while in a mood. I'm never writing these aus. I already feel bad for them. Maybe I should just write an actual story with them. They deserve so much love.

[juniestar]

Since last summer i feel so deeply uncomfortable whenever i’m close to taken male friends like before being in a “relationship” myself I didn’t see anything wrong with it and now I still don’t see anything wrong with it as a concept but considering that that whole situation started with what was essentially an emotional affair i don’t feel comfortable getting that close to people in that position again. yesterday I hung out with matheus all day and i couldnt be comfortable bc i kept worrying abt like how does his girlfriend feel is she ok with us being close friends what if i steal him bc thats what i do what if im not a trustworthy person blah blah blah and it sucks because we’ve been friends for six years and ive known his gf for five and it was so nice and easy til around a year ago. yesterday i was so fucking freaked and in my head that I was distant the entire time and kept waiting for him to leave

[funkylittledemon]

autism and emotions is so.... well it fucking sucks is what it is. i need my mind to slow down for a second to get all these thoughts down bc i will explode if i dont get them out there (hence why this post - only bee is gonna see this & knows me enough to be worried for more than an hour or so and if i put this where nobody can see it aint actually out there) (wassup bee dw i am okay)

anyway

i say that life is just getting to me rn and it is but thats too vague a statement. current affairs (an impartial term but a useful one here) are getting to me - I'm trying to navigate adulthood while it feels like the life i was promised is being taken away by whatever event you want to pick; global warming, late-stage capitalism, multiple genocides, the list goes on. and I'm one of the lucky ones!! how fucked up is that! so there's that constant stress hanging above my head.

then there's more abstract life: navigating uni and living alone and looking after myself while forming relationships and starting to try carve a path for myself. this one isn't as bad but still can't be ignored and the fact that interpersonal relationships have become so scrutinised through social media doesn't help. no matter the insecurity you have or your own specific factors there will be someone online telling you your worst fears are right - i cant say how many times ive scrolled past a reel saying that i havent had a message back because "he" doesn't care. does the person saying this even know I've seen it, let alone who i am or who "he" is? No!! but the sentiment sticks with you despite only seeing it for 3 seconds before scrolling on, despite logically knowing it can't apply to me because its a catch-all statement to everyone who feels insecure pushed onto us by an algorithm that thinks we want to hear that. social media is feeding into our fears and insecurities and we can't stop it. as an autistic person whos insecure as fuck and who knows they dont understand a lot of societal cues being told by some random person that im right to be insecure really doesn't help - i get the idea of something stuck in my head and bc i know its bs i try get it out which cements it further into my mind and lends it credence.

then there's uni itself - i am now faced with the realisation that everything leading me up to uni and my course has been about me helping other people, often to my own detriment. i chose a counselling course because i was always the therapist friend, the one who everyone else went to for help. and wouldn't you know it I've been burnt out for years and literally don't have it in me to help strangers, or give a shit about their lives. i cared so much and made my entire life about helping other people that i had no idea what i wanted to do. im switching to just psychology now, because it is interesting and i do enjoy it but im kind of lost now i dont have that purpose. it also scares me just how much of my life hadn't been about me at all and im still not sure who i am if im not helping someone. obviously thats the dramatic version but you get the gist. uni's been a wakeup call i wasn't prepared for and theres the work and exams on top of that

christ this is long. okay. what else was there. emotions. god i hate emotions. this is the hard bit. all my emotions are so so big and i am so so small and it feels like they would devour me whole if they could. anxiety is a big one. recently pretty much all ive been feeling is anxiety - a deep anxiety that makes me nauseous pretty much 24/7. last week on friday i had what i call a breakdown. i still dont understand it (which is scary enough - every other breakdown i can disect and point to the cause). i just sarted screaming in the middle of the street and couldn't stop and its making me anxious just typing this up. then there was a day of panic attack after panic attack (lost count after the 4th i think) and then a few days later and some bad decisions (booze. ik i shouldn't have drank but i thought i was ok to drink) i had another breakdown. i dont remember much of this one but it ended in me being locked out and sobbing - security had to let me in and it must've been bad bc the guy gave me a card with hotlines on it. (again, i am okay). i lost my leather jacket that night which both sucks bc i loved that jacket and also the fact that it's gone is a constant reminder of something im ashamed of. after that it was just this constant nauseating anxiety, occasionally spiralling into something more but not significant enough to include. the thing about me and emotions is that my strategy for dealing with them is to ignore and repress them until they're not my problem anymore. which is bad. but idk how to cope with them healthily and when i feel okay i never know if its because i repressed them again or because i genuinely feel okay. being around other people helps but thats probably not a great thing - i hide my emotions from other people to avoid being a burden. not that its always a bad thing that my friends make me feel better its just not a sustainable approach to constantly avoid being alone. i have this constant struggle of feeling emotions so intensely then feeling shame because of how intensely i felt those emotions or how they made me act.

going on from emotions fucking me over and moving on from Life being an issue anxiety is a fucking bitch. all my life I've felt like an outsider and so constantly nervous about everything. it was hell and then in 6th form i made friends who were so so confident and i finally started to relax a little bit more and not feel bad about taking up space. uni was even better! i had flatmates i loved and i was going out doing things I'd never dreamed of and i was making friends!! i barely recognised myself and i loved it!! then the breakdown happened and i was plunged headfirst back into the old cycle of anxiety and going back to that after feeling what life could be like? that was worse than the breakdown. it feels like ive never felt worse and the knowledge that theres no reason for it, that nothing had actually changed other than me and i could still be out there with confidence but i wasn't was such a crushing feeling it felt like i was never gonna feel okay again. dramatic i know but the truth.

im home for easter break now and typing this out has helped and going back to my old stomping grounds has shown me i have still changed and i do still have the confidence even if i couldn't access it for a hot min. I'm still anxious but thats okay. my emotions don't have an all poweful spell over me and anxiety can suck my dick. there's still the fear that I'll go back to uni and it'll all come rushing back however im just gonna see how this break goes. im gonna be alone whether i like it or not while im down here and if i can manage to be okay with that then I'll be fine. and i do have a support system both here and up at university.

[im-always-the-problem-its-me]

i don't know what the fuck just happened

i somehow managed to fuck up SO's birthday and feel awful. ive gotta make a big drive tomorrow night and have to fuck up my sleep schedule on purpose and with how emotionally exhausting this whole day was it's that much more difficult.

i legit started rambling, feeling very 'i'm a piece of shit, what do you want..let's make jokes about how fucked up i am while i detach emotionally when you have a breakdown' like roman fucking roy and then i even said 'i'm roman fucking roy, i don't know what you want from me'.

here's what i think happened: nutshell version because being vague is safer and i'm also tired.

SO has been depressed. i can't do shit about it. i have a bad habit when i'm overwhelmed with my own shit to be like 'let's try to just be super happy and pretend his breakdown isn't happening because i can't handle men crying on the floor because i'm used to men getting angry, yelling or worse...hitting me.' so i avoid. it's a symptom of complex PTSD apparently and also i think ptsd doesn't accurately describe what i have anymore because nothing is 'post'. this shit is happening right now and im constantly triggered because i figured out i'm still being abused and emotionally manipulated by my parents as an adult and i don't know wtf to do about it. i think im going to need therapy again. SO says he thinks he wants to go see one again too.

there's nothing wrong with our relationship. it's individually, we're both fucked up. it doesn't help i have this 'not really, but kind of' a side thing but it's not affecting things here. (im still a piece of shit because if anything its kind of an emotional affair...i dont know...feelings are fine...if i act on them then that's different...this is an old flame too and we're close, always have been...it's just an intense friendship bordering upon dangerous with flirtations but THAT'S NOT THE ISSUE)

'you never shut up' SO said to me out of anger. broke down after he said it even though i agreed even though it stung. i told him don't worry about it. it was true. i need to to not put all my shit on him. that's why i suggested therapy again.

i explained that i don't feel mad or upset by anything that happened tonight..just feel bad because yes he called me out on being emotionally detached and i have been lately because im a fucking mess. i also tend to run from everything so i even told him fuck it, we can move back because it's fine me being a mess but since he's the breadwinner, when he falls apart it's bad for both of us. i'm already on benefits because of epilepsy that's intractible. nothing I can do about that. but he needs to be ok.

he keeps looking at me like i'm nuts but dude, i've been running my whole life. i wanted to settle and stay here forever and i love this place more than any place i have ever lived but look i'm still sick here and i got issues popping up like god hates me.

i'm not even roman roy. i think because i detached instead of wearing it on my face or crying like kendall. maybe i'm a mix of both. i dunno. that show speaks to me on so many levels. i rewatched Hannibal too and i'm just like wtf. then i picked my favorite mommy issues movies to put on.

here's what i know happened: two people who love each other very much aren't doing well mentally but their relationship isn't what's making the other fucked up. it's everything else they have never dealt with making them individually fucked up and tonight it blew up. bad timing. neither of us could help each other. he got rightfully pissed. i am not upset he got pissed and the one thing he said out of anger was a very true fucking statement that put a big mirror in front of my face.

i realized too that i cannot handle a man having a breakdown. he asked why i always just walk away from him when hes like that? well because i don't know what to do with it and also what if it turns into something else and the man is going nuts on me or taking it out on me? i don't know. i'm very fucked up.

i hate victim mentality bullshit. i try not to put stuff on anyone. so i sweep it away like it's not fucking happening and i got called out on that. i don't know how to be there for him. i can't help it i have ingrained weird ideas. i try just not to be a cunt ok? and i don't know maybe i was one tonight? i don't even know. i apologized for getting loud when i did because i had my earplugs in so didn't realize how loud i was and i also hadn't eaten all day and it was making me hangry so my brain couldn't even process anything until after i ate.

a man shaking and crying on the floor because of me? (or what i perceived as being about me?) all i thought was get away from him because you're hurting him and nothing you do is going to make it better...and then it was like i felt like my mom. that's what she did. no comfort for the crying ones...just walk away until it's over. but i'm not his mommy. i'm his SO. he even said 'i don't want you to baby me or anything, just a little comfort would be nice.' he's right. but again, why are you crying in the first place? i'm selfish so i'm thinking 'wtf i'm a mess...now i have to wonder why you're a mess...wtf' and jfc no....i don't know what the fuck happened.

we need to both get some help with our issues somehow or we're not going to make it if repeats like this keep happening. i can't even call it a fight. it was more just a collective breakdown. he went to bed red eyed and mumbling. i'm up exhausted but numb af.

fucking a.

it's good i'll be gone for a day. give us both some time away just to think. well, he'll be able to anyway, ill be cramped in a car with 7 other people for 18 hours. not that i'm complaining. i've gotta do this to help out with bills and plus now i've got an obligation because my mother keeps putting shit on me and didn't even give me a chance to say no and if i don't make this trip a lot of people are out of money so im basically unable to back out even if wanted to. fuck it. i think i'll finally be able to chill next year. i'm going to make myself anyway. get through holidays. have a good time on our concert trip in january. hopefully by them my SO and i are in better places mentally too.

one hour at a time.

[dongfangxunfeng]

gonna put it under a readmore ppl who don't rlly know what's happening don't worry abt it too much it's honestly just to get it out to my friends on here

some notes 1. I have been sitting on this for a yr already bc i have just been (a) felt embarrassed honestly that i let this happen (b) guilty bc i felt i was doing smth so wrong (c) overall just felt like i shouldn't talk abt it

2. this is just to talk to my friends here tbh i just. cannot pretend its over when it still affects me a lot.... just want yall to know bc you're my friends yk 😭

anyway. i still feel like I shouldn't be airing this but it's been a year fuck it. the relationship was terrible and of course while there was good aspects to it it was not worth the pain the only way I can rlly do this is bulleted list of just shit bc anything more would require digging into screenshots and i really don't want to do that. also my memory is spotty so yknow. disclaimer etc emotional truth not necessarily verbatim and def not super chronological

it started out fine as it usually does. a month into i said something about how we were at different levels of attraction bc he was telling me how he wanted to wake up next to me. i don't remember exactly what but it was like too much too fast. then he fully shut down and i was like comforting him for days about how yes i still loved him. emotional hell

another point of contention was him visiting me. like it was just so strong how he wanted to. i ended up telling him a couple months in that i wanted to but wasn't comfortable with this talk. you'll see this later too but it was like. hed say shit like 'oh I'd talk abt this but it makes you uncomfortable' re:visiting afterwards. so i was still trying to not talk abt it while having it brought up.

ok honestly the reason why i haven't rlly talked abt it bc of this key bullet point that u need to understand to understand the dynamic but for obvious reasons it's hard to talk about. we were sexting for a while and then i told him no, i do not want to do this. unequivocally. what proceeded to happen was exactly like the visiting thing, where he would bring it up and then go 'i don't want to make you uncomfortable'. like for months he was like yeah I only feel like im loved when we sext and he kept going on about how he was sexually frustrated and how it's not my fault. but he would keep bringing it up. and anything I said was apparently not emotionally helpful. so what the fuck did I do. end up sexting him out of obligation. god and he had the audacity to ask me after we broke up but were still talking (we'll get into THIS PART later) whether or not he ever did anything unconsensual BC he couldn't live with it if he did or smth. im like . excuse me.

anyway so after all of that I was like. getting more involved w my irl friends and tasks and work and school and also I didn't want anything to DO with him bc it would end up coming back to sex was how I felt. and so when I broke up with him he was like 'youve been so cold and awful to me for the past month. why the fuck did you do that.' and proceeded to guilt me over breaking up with him. and literally kept me on the other end by yelling at me over voice call BC he said shit like the least you owe me is a call.

I'll talk abt this post break up time in a next post lol bc it truly is fucking insane. like a 4 month affair that ends in me blocking him.

also there's a lot of shit that will make me look bad and you know what. fuck it I'll own it. yes I did that shit. hopefully you'll see why but if not. that's fine .

u know what i think i finally need to talk abt what happened btwn zero and i because it was genuinely. so bad

[ignis-writes]

Can't sleep?

Summary: y/n can't sleep so she calls her captain. Maybe this time they could make things right?

Pairing: Captain Logan Syverson x female reader

Word count: 985

Warnings: minor angst, Insomnia, F-word, mentions of guns, sex and war. please let me know if there is anything else.

A/N:This was supposed to be like a sequel to The Next 50 days. Since I forgot what I wrote there this probably doesn't make any sense. English isn't my first language, and this drabble is not beta'd. So look out for obvious mistakes.

No. I can't fucking sleep. I wriggled over my bed for too long. I couldn't get a shred of sleep no matter what. Is it cuz im not tired yet? Is it jet lag…common, it's been a week since I arrived. 43 days to go.  I tried reading, music, a bit of workout...everything. Back in the base, I had better shot at getting a decent 4-hours of sleep. If I could sleep in a place riddled with gunfire and grenades, why would I not fall asleep in the very house I grew up? This was one of the worst aspects about being off duty, Insomnia was a bitch and there was nothing to be done about it. 

If there is anything worse than not being able to sleep it is staying up late thinking about him. I missed him, I knew I would, even back at the airport. I wondered if he would stay up at night thinking about me. But it was not likely, there were no pent-up emotions in his brain that prevented him from falling asleep.

It was I, who could not get the right words out, it was I who lashed out at him because I was too scared and likely allergic to the word commitment.

Back in the base, I felt a little calm knowing he was near me. Even when we weren't on "good terms" Still, his presence was comforting. Along the course of our "relationship " or whatever that was, his presence grew as a silent promise of serenity and safety to me. I knew I  could run to him no matter what. Wake him up at any night to bury myself in his scent. It helped me sleep, it helped him too. 

These were the nights when I truly craved his presence. It was mere lusting, I didn't want him to just fuck me down to sleep even though it is what happened the most. The longing was for more, I wanted to snuggle in his arms and doze off to the earthly hum of one of his old rock ballads. Without tears, without the agonies.

Had a hard time believing, I'm going soft for him. The whole point of this affair was to keep away from any emotional attachment and the burden which followed. It's not exactly an affair or relationship. At this point, I don't know a word to describe it in its truest senses. Both of us wanted to relieve some sexual tension, rant out the worries of the day, and get some decent fucking sleep so we entered into this agreement of "fucking without feelings." That's what Sy used to call it until feelings crept up on us.

Predictably, things got a bit complicated when we started liking each other, then knowing and understanding a bit too much of each other, then miserably falling for each other. I had my fair share of heartbreaks and reality checks so being emotionally involved was a scary thing to do so I reacted poorly. But if there is anything more dangerous than unprotected sex, it is unchartered feelings. Love had no place in a war, love had no role to play between a captain and his servant. Love was gasoline leaking into the live fire. I could have hidden my feelings, kept them locked away like I always did if he didn't fall for me against his better senses.  

That was it. The coward in me morphed into an asshole with 2 brain cells on high and zero communication skills. I had a breakdown in front of him, and pulled out of our "relationship ". So he did what he did best, went on pretending as if no such thing happened between us. I played along, but it got harder and harder as days went by, I found myself wanting him again. And I found myself in his bedroom. Looked like he missed me too. But like everything else, this too ended in a fight.

3 weeks passed and I was back home, wondering if he slept yet. Yeah, he probably did. Why would he be awake at this ungodly hour unless he intends to summon a demon? Wait, what if he is awake to summon a demon? I should call.

The phone rang once and I heard his distinct voice perk up " Hello?" 

 So he was awake???? Fuck yeah 

"Hey, it's me. " I continued

"Can't sleep uh?" I could visualize his shit-eating grin like he was right in front of me.

"Looks like u can't either " I countered

"I'll manage just fine. why'd you call y/n? " He knew why.

"Missed you stupid ass ..? Felt like I wanna talk to you..? Look, im sorry for how I reacted. I should have known better. And I kinda wanna be in a real relationship with you. So I guessed communicating like a grown-up is a good way to start " I managed to spit out despite my ego choking my words.

"You are right. "

He continued after a moment of silence

" I owe you an apology too. I had a good part in fucking up the whole thing. And im gonna properly acknowledge my feelings, truth be told I don't give a fuck if the command finds or whatever. I need to be with you and I'm willing to take the responsibility that comes with it. So maybe we could meet, if you are free... walk around a bit, talk a bit more and figure out how it's gonna be from now.

That conversation didn't end there. We kept talking until I fell asleep on the phone. I don't remember what else we talked about, so but it felt nice falling asleep to his sound. If this went on like this I might even survive the rest of 50 days.

_________

I do not claim the ownership of Sandcastle or any character introduced in the film. Do not plagiarize my work.

As always, feedback and reblog if you enjoyed it. 

Yes, I did spend time on the pics. No, I did not read whatever the fuck I wrote

Pic credits: I made the one in the middle, yea yea I'm particularly bad at editing. The other 2 pics are from Pinterest

[alluringjae]

au cours de l’été - jjh

⤑ translation: over the summer

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

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

⤑ masterlist

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

3 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)

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

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

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

“Jaehyun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”

12 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

début de juillet 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s infatuated by you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“En voyant notre mine ravie,”

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

“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”

Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.

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

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

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

“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”

À la mi-juillet de 1957

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Call me that again, please.”

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

“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)

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

This time, it’s different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fin de juillet 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep them on when you ride me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”

16 octobre 1957

Autumn made its way to the countryside.

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

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

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

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

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

“Still breathtaking.”

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

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

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

“Write to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, what was he up to?

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

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

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

You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.

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

21 octobre 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get to the point please!” You screeched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could the next summer come any faster?

14 février 1958

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your fairytale.

“Jaehyun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He spoke about me to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he your favorite muse?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So tell me about your new book.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What really went down in Provence?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.”

6 ans plus tard (1964)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?

It no longer did after getting married.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

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

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

Excluding being drenched from the rain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.

[atlabeth]

hey! i love your zuko fics so much and was wondering if you’d like to write this, because the idea just popped up: maybe a zuko x reader fluff that takes place before/during LOK? maybe they’re reminiscing about their past adventures w the Gaang while helping out the new Team Avatar? idk it’s just that every time I see old zuko it makes me soft and emotional 🥲🔥❤️ anyways, much love! (and don’t feel pressured to do this at all, I was just thinking abt who I could submit this request to, and obvi my first choice was you 💕)

reminiscence - zuko x fem!reader

summary: just because you and your husband are retired doesn’t mean you don’t have amazing advice for the new team avatar.

a/n: this is so cute omg!! thank you so much for requesting this and thank you for much for your kind words i'm honored <33 im so sorry this took so long

sorry im posting so much lately im trying to stop slacking and publish things that have been wips for over a month sdkjfh

wc: 1.3k

warning(s): none bc i choose to ignore the news of zaheer’s plan right after this scene

-

Retirement was… nice.

You had spent your childhood fighting with the Avatar to end the Hundred Year War, a feat that was only made more difficult with your Fire Nation roots and connection to the banished prince. But all that’s well ends well, and you ended up getting your happy ending together — you had to fight hard for it, though.

You married Zuko at nineteen, three years after he ascended to the throne, and spent the subsequent years balancing your duties as Fire Lady and taking care of your daughter. Ruling the Fire Nation was a lot, but you knew you could get through anything with your husband at your side.

When he told you his plans to abdicate the throne, you were more than supportive. One of Zuko’s biggest fears was becoming his father, and by giving up his position willingly to Izumi, it guaranteed that he wouldn’t fall victim to the power-obsessed ways of his ancestors. It also gave him a well-deserved break after decades of being Fire Lord, and you were more than ready to get out of the world of Fire Nation politics. You had sat through enough meetings to fill multiple lifetimes.

But just because the two of you weren’t as involved in every day affairs of the world didn’t mean that you were completely out of it. No, that was far from the truth. You and Zuko were still some of the most important people in all of the nations, which meant it wasn’t a rare occurrence for your husband to be called off on some sort of mission.

One such mission was stopping the Order of the Red Lotus for the second time; Zuko had been part of the team that stopped them from kidnapping Avatar Korra as a child, so it was no surprise that he had been called to help for a second time. You knew even in his old age that your husband was powerful, but you couldn’t help but feel concerned about everything he was doing.

This concern was ultimately what led you to join Zuko on his trip to meet with Chief Beifong and Chief Tonraq in the Misty Palms Oasis. He had originally been against your involvement, claiming that the Red Lotus was far too dangerous, and he didn’t want to risk you getting injured in any way. You, of course, weren’t having it. “The Avatar’s in trouble, and I’d like to think I know a few things about getting out of trouble.”

One thing was certain after you arrived — it had been far too long since you had ridden on the back of a dragon. You truly adored Druk, and you felt bad for everyone that would never have the opportunity.

After conversing with Lin and Tonraq inside, you all exited to greet the new Team Avatar. If what you were told was true, then they had been through quite a lot since leaving Zaofu. For as long as you had been involved in foreign affairs, you had never met Avatar Korra nor her friends, so you didn’t know what to expect — an awestruck boy that could barely speak wasn’t at the top of your list though.

“Oh my gosh. It’s Lord Zuko and Lady Y/N. I can’t believe it!” He stared at the two of you with wide eyes, his voice getting higher and higher as he whimpered. He looked like he was going to fall over until another black-haired boy pulled him out of the way, his tone apologetic.

“Uh, forgive my brother,” he said as he put his fist against his open palm, his brother following suit. “We’re just really honored to meet you both.”

“It’s no problem,” you smiled as you and Zuko returned the greeting. It had been years since someone had reacted that way towards you, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t amuse you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

The two boys straightened again as the taller one gestured to them each in turn. “I’m Mako, and this is Bolin. We’re Korra’s friends.”

“Ah, she’s got her own Team Avatar?” You inquired with a twinkle in your eye. “You know, I traveled with Avatar Aang years back along with my husband.”

“Of course I know!” Bolin exclaimed. “Oh, I’ve heard so many stories about your adventures, they’re all so amazing!” His eyes widened and you actually thought that he was going to fall over. “Oh, oh, could you tell us about some of the things you went through?”

“Bolin, we really shouldn’t bother them—” Mako started, but you laughed and waved it off.

“I assure you, there’s nothing to worry about. It’s not often I get to relive my journeys to such avid listeners. What would you like to hear about?”

He thought for a couple seconds then shot back up again. “What was it like when you escaped the Boiling Rock together? You guys were the first people to ever break out, right? That had to be amazing!”

You and Zuko both laughed as you shot him a look. “It was… interesting,” he said.

“By interesting, he means it was a complete disaster,” you corrected. “Everywhere something could’ve gone wrong, it went wrong. They had originally come there to rescue Sokka’s dad, but instead they found Suki and I. Then Zuko got found out and thrown into prison, our first escape plan failed, Sokka almost got found out, Azula showed up… it was honestly a miracle we made it out at all.”

“It wasn’t that bad!” he protested. “Getting thrown into prison was part of the plan, we wouldn’t have been able to get the cooler out if I hadn’t been found out.”

“I guess I can’t complain,” you chuckled. “I did get to punch you a couple times.”

“They are so cool,” Bolin whispered as the two of you went on in the background. He elbowed Mako in the shoulder and gestured towards the couple with his head. “Come on, ask them something! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

“I’m not going to ask them something, Bolin—”

“Excuse me, my brother has something he wants to ask too!” Mako shot him a dirty look which quickly disappeared when you and Zuko turned to him attentively.  

“Oh, um…” He coughed and scratched his head. “I guess.. is there any advice you have for us? With this whole Team Avatar thing, I mean.” You smiled at Mako and took Zuko’s hand.

“The friendships you forge during your journey are the most important thing — they’re the things that will keep you going during your darkest moments, and they will last a lifetime. There will be mountains and valleys, ebbs and flows, but no matter what, you will hold an unbreakable bond.”

You felt Zuko squeeze your hand and turned your smile on him as you returned the sentiment then nodded for him to continue. “Never take anything for granted, and trust in fate. You’re where you are for a reason — everything will end up working out in the end.”

You grinned and kissed him on the cheek, humming in agreement. “It did, didn’t it?”

-

After a few more minutes of talking with the two brothers, they went off to join the rest of their group. It was strange being on the outside of it all after how intense your childhood was, but it was… refreshing not to have the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore.

“The world’s in good hands with them,” you murmured as you leaned your head on Zuko’s shoulder.

“They all have that same fire you had when I first met you,” Zuko chuckled. You watched the four of them conversing and a smile graced your lips.

“Oh? Then I think the world’s in very good hands.”

-

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Golden (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: you are in a relationship with kakaski, but after an accident, you have amnesia, and can’t remember him anymore. angst baby. Very feminine Civilian!reader (you own a bookstore, so cliche lmao) essentially, this series is mindless romantic indulgences i wrote mostly for myself, but if other people can enjoy them then i did my job as a fanfic writer.

A/N: im definitely not writing a fanfic for every song on fine line...haha

Word count: 5600

_____

He lay awake at night after the incident, imagining the moment he truly knew he was in love with her. Completely infatuated with this beautiful woman working at the bookstore. It was the only thing he could do now that his entire world had come crashing around him. With everything that happened in the hospital, this was the only way he knew how to cope.

He drifted off into the dream once again.

__

Kakashi stood by the front gates of the village, a paperback book he had just bought in his hand, folded over so he could read with one hand. One more time before he left for this mission, one he knew would last longer than anyone would like, he visited the old bookstore in town. He wanted to think he just stopped by to stock up on reading material, but that wasn’t it.

It was always about her.

When he saw Y/N running up to him, her apron nearly falling off and her hair in disarray, his eyes widened and he set the book down by his side. She was out of breath when she got to him, pressing her hands to her chest to get herself put together. Her brows furrowed deeply as she lifted her eyes to meet his.

“Kakashi,” she exclaimed.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“I know you’re going on this long mission and you won’t be around for a few months, and I can’t stand the thought of you leaving without me telling you this,” she said, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t insanely curious what she had to say. She was a sweet village girl, and he frequented her store, quite a bit actually. On occasion, he would drop by a few times in a day just to say hello. He definitely wasn’t slick.

He waited for her to continue and she didn’t hesitate. “Every time you leave, I get this pain in my chest. I worry about you day and night because I know the life of a shinobi is never guaranteed. I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t tell you this time, if I kept acting like the coward I am.”

“I see? Well, what’s on your mind?”

“I-I’ve never felt this way for anyone before, and I don’t know how to deal with it, so here goes,” she told him, taking a deep breath before her next words, “I think I’m in love with you, Kakashi Hatake. I think I’ve loved you since the first time you stepped foot in my parents store.”

“I…”

What was he supposed to say to that?

“You don’t have to say anything back. It doesn’t bother me, I know how closed off you ninja are. Just please, take my words and hold them close on your journeys.” She paused, clenching her soft fists by her sides. She wasn’t scared of rejection, not at all. She was only scared that Kakashi might not care about her words at all. “Please, don’t forget someone loves you.”

In that moment, he felt his heart stop beating, only for a second, but he felt it. Shifted awkwardly, not wanting to let off that he was getting even a little emotional at her declaration. He was tough as nails, the copy-nin. Not some lover boy, even if he wanted to be. Even if he wanted to swoop in right then and kiss her to pieces.

All he could say was, “I’ll keep that in my mind. Thank you, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome. Now, don’t fool around out there so you can come back to me in one piece!” she laughed, feeling tears bubbling up in the corners of her eyes.

He found himself smiling back at the young woman. “You got it.”

__________

Kakashi was never really one to express his feelings. Generally, he kept them inside to mourn alone. It was just in his nature, it was nothing personal with the people he knew and trusted. There was just something about Y/N that made him drop down some of those thick barriers.

His girlfriend was a normal woman, working long shifts in the village bookstore since she was a teenager. She never attended the academy, wasn't chakra sensitive, nothing in particular was so outstanding that she was noticed. Nothing on the surface, actually.

It was her smile and her laugh, the way she could make anyone feel like they were important and wanted, that attracted Kakashi to her in the first place. From the first time they met as teenagers in the bookstore aisles, he knew he was caught in some sort of trap. For a minute, he compared the feeling to that of a genjutsu, even though he knew that was far from a possibility.

To him, when she smiled, it felt as if everything was going to be okay. All the pain and suffering disappeared when she was around. He really couldn’t understand how that could be happening, with the world crumbling around him everyday.

That was a particularly rare attribute among ninja folk, whose lives led them to believe that happiness wasn’t achievable and death was common; pain was so normal for him. It was refreshing to have someone around who didn't think like that, that could change the tone of a room in a moment with just an ounce of positive energy. Y/N was innocent to the majority of these harsh realities that the ninja faced, for the most part.

As with most people in the village, her parents lost their lives during the invasion of the nine tails. She was alone for a long time, but despite that, she tried to find joys in reading, in stacking new books on shelves, in talking to unique individuals that would stop by. And as she aged, she realized her most favorite customer was one with a masked face, and a love of gushy, perverted novels.

She was even friends with some of his closest friends, Gai, Yamato, Sakura. She reached out to them, getting visits here and there while she worked during the day. After he informed his closest companions of his blossoming affair with the bookstore girl, they just had to get in an insider view. They kept visiting after the first meetings. Sakura bringing lunch, Yamato helping her with repairs, and Gai just bringing his brightest smile and a boatload of jokes and giggles to share at the front counter.

It was only a matter of time before they fell into some weird friendship, a civilian and one of the top shinobi of their village. He was gone half the time on missions, and sometimes, when he was ANBU, she wouldn’t see him for weeks at a time. Occasionally, when a mission was long and difficult, she would hear pawing at her window late into the night. When she pulled back the blinds, a small dog would be sitting there with a folded piece of paper in his mouth, waiting for her to take it.

She loved those letters, they became her prized possessions. There was nothing else she loved more in the world than seeing his kind words written out on paper, his declarations of love that he would never dare say aloud. To him, it was easier to say those things on paper, to not be around when she read about his feelings for her. He was still attentive and kind to her in person, but the letters spoke with a romanticism that he couldn’t.

Y/N practically glowed when she spoke to him, so in love with him she could barely keep it restrained. He knew this. He knew she was as deeply in love with him as he was entranced with her. It had been 5 years since they started dating, and he prolonged the inevitable path of marriage as long as he could. Having a girlfriend was one thing, but marrying someone felt like a burden he couldn’t shoulder. He wanted to, but it just seemed like too much work, too much risk.

After years, he realized the waiting just wasn’t worth it. They were only getting older as the time went by. She just warmed his empty heart, he knew that was something only she could do for him. He needed that.

And that's why he sat in the comfort of Ichiraku, Sakura by his side, sipping on some soup. She was the only one he truly trusted with this knowledge, the only one who could give him genuine advice. He just needed to tell someone what he was about to do. He sat there, his fingers hovering over his pants pocket, eyes trailed down at the table.

"What did you want to talk about, Sensei?" She had asked.

"You really like Y/N, right? Think she's good for me?"

She smiled with a small nod. "Of course. Y/N is so sweet. She makes you so happy I can tell. I think it's really good for you." It was true. Sakura didn’t know what her sensei was like before he met the woman. That was years ago before she was even born. What she did know is that someone with that much pain seeping from his heart could use some love in his life, a stable shoulder to lean onto. If anyone was stable, it was her. Without any cares in the world other than worrying for her boyfriend and keeping her business afloat. Her trauma was behind her, unlike some of the shinobi that carry those with them for the rest of their lives. Guilt, anger, resentment.

He pulled a tiny, drawstring bag from his pocket and fiddled with the strings between his fingers. "When I was in the Land of Fire last month, I picked this up from a merchant," he explained, pulling open the bag and pouring out the contents. A small ring clicked against the bar table. "Take a look, tell me what you think."

She dropped her spoon and reached over for the ring, holding it gently with the pads of her fingertips. It was beautiful. It sparkled like sunlight hitting clear blue waters. A stone rested in the center, flecks of lavender and blue floating in the sparkly gem. When she turned it in the sunlight, more colors appeared and changed, morphing into something spectacular in every sense of the word.

"Kakashi-sensei, it's gorgeous. Are you going to give this to Y/N?"

"After all this time, it seems inevitable really. Time flies."

"Oh my gosh. I'm so happy for you. She's going to be ecstatic, I just know it. She loves you more than life itself." He liked hearing that reaffirmed for him, even though Y/N frequently told him how she felt, daily ‘I love you’s. Unlike him, those words were not rare, but each time it filled his chest with warmth.

He smiled fondly, watching as she continued to turn to ring in her hands. He never thought this would happen to him: marrying someone. He didn't want to lose anyone else. He didn't want to put that risk on someone, especially Y/N. He had suppressed his feelings for her for a few years before he finally succumbed to the urge to tell her. Finally, after years of longing and avoiding the obvious, she became his, and he was undoubtedly hers.

It was a hard decision. He knew it was wrong to risk it, put her life on the line, but now he felt ridiculous sulking around waiting for something that was never going to happen. Nothing had happened to Y/N yet, and it had been years. She was gonna be fine. He was only being paranoid, he had convinced himself.

"Tonight. I'm going to help her close the store and do it then."

"You're a good man, Kakashi. She’s so lucky to have you protecting her and watching out for her, ya know? You two balance each other out perfectly,” the girl sighed. If only she could find a love like her sensei had with his significant other.

"Thanks, Sakura.”

They finished up their conversation, and he paid the bill for her, feeling so high that a bit of money from his wallet didn't even bother him. It was slightly later than he was supposed to go see her. The bookstore should have already closed by about 10 minutes.

All he could think about on the way there was how she would laugh about him being late, as usual. She would hug him to say hello, like she usually wound, and then give him a kiss on his masked cheek. He would help her quickly reorganize books before pulling out the ring. To him, it wasn't really about her saying yes at all so much as this moment, proposing to the love of his life, meant he could leave his curse behind and be happy for once with someone he cared about. She was his savior, an escape from a mindset so ingrained he couldn't fight it on his own.

But when he walked up to the front of the store. He noticed the lights still on even though she would have shut them off by now. The sign out front still flipped to open. He didn’t think it was too weird at all, he just thought maybe she was waiting for him to come along to finish up.

As he walked in though, he noticed the whole reams of paper strewn across the floor. Piles of books were aggressively thrown from the shelves, scattered around the floor like someone side swept them from the stands. Ink stained the checkout counter where she normally sat, inkwell tipped over the edge and dripped onto the carpet which she took care to keep clean. It was disastrous getting stains out of that carpet, she always said to him.

Most importantly, on some of the papers scattered around, he spotted blood splatter, drips of half dried blood present all the way from her desk to the back door. He felt panic rise up from his stomach all the way to his throat, and his heart raced. It was rare something made him truly terrified, and this was one of those moments.

He searched, god, he scoured that entire building over and over again for the woman. He checked every aisle and under every table. He ran upstairs to her apartment and checked in the few small rooms she had, scared she was cowering in her bathtub or hiding under the bed. He ran to the neighboring stores, asking if they'd heard from her, and received nothing but empty words. He just wanted her to be anywhere that he could find, anywhere but in the arms of someone evil.

His Y/N was gone, and he was hopelessly at the mercy of his curse once again.

______

He wasn't even allowed to go on the search mission for his girlfriend. Instead, Tsunade sent Yamato as well as a few chunin who knew Y/N enough to recognize her but not enough to fail at being objective. Apparently, the copy-nin wasn't in his right mind to go on a mission right now, especially one that was so personal to him. All his missions for the foreseeable future had been cancelled and another jounin was set to replace him. He could only sit back at home, guilt ridden and feeling useless, unable to help, unable to search. He did this to her. He knew that putting his heart into someone else's hands wasn't right, that it would only lead to her suffering but he couldn't listen to his own experience. He didn’t think it could happen to Y/N. he thought he could protect her.

But fate finds a way, it seems.

He trusted Yamato and the others to find her, but it was nothing like going himself. He wanted nothing more than to see the men who stole her away taught a lesson for what they had done. He wanted to cradle her in his arms and kiss her head, and promise something like this would never happen again. At least, that’s what he wanted to do. He didn’t know how he would react in the moment, despite developing quite good self-control over the years. How could he contain himself when the perpetrators caused his beautiful girl to bleed, and no doubt suffer?

Sakura felt the worst for Kakashi, knowing what she knew. She could imagine him heading to propose to his little girlfriend whom he loved more than anything in the entire world, and see only her blood splattered across the room and endless signs of a brutal struggle. Not to mention no one had a clue why they stole her or what was happening where no one else could see. The medical nin nearly shed a couple tears when Kakashi rushed into the Hokage's office without announcement, proclaiming that his girlfriend was gone, kidnapped from her own store where she worked alone all day.

Tsunade, despite barely knowing the girl, knew it was important; for anyone to be stolen from their village was serious enough. Although she felt for Kakashi, she had to keep him calm while she worked on finding the subject of his affection. She sent out teams immediately, and stressed that Kakashi was to remain in the village until everything was resolved one way or another. She didn't want any accidents because of a reckless, emotionally compromised shinobi faltering.

It only took the teams a single day to find their target.

Shikamaru and Choji were the ones to come back first, and in the larger boy's arms rested the limp, unconscious body of a missing woman. Ever so gently, he had her head tucked away against his chest the entire way home, trying his best not to hurt her anymore. Even if she was unconscious, he wanted to respect the body. From the moments they spoke before, she seemed like the nicest girl. He felt awful. She wasn’t the one putting her life on the line, she was the one that shinobi were supposed to protect. And they failed her.

When they walked through the gates of the village, Kakashi was already rushing up to the gates waiting for their arrival. He caught up to the boys and reached out to take her body from his arms, just to cradle her against him. It was the least that he could do was take her to the infirmary. To feel her faint heart beating against his chest. He was surprised when one of the chunin sadly shook his head.

"Kakashi, she's alive, but trust me, you don't want to see what they did to her," Shikamaru warned, and Choji flinched, just thinking about what her poor face looked like when they found her. Shikamaru knew for a fact that if his girlfriend was ever handed off to him looking so pitiful, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He didn’t want the same to befall on his sensei. "Just trust me, I cannot let you see it, for your sake. Let Choji bring her to Tsunade."

He felt a burning in his stomach, pain creeping up in his abdomen like he was going to throw up all over the dirt path they stood on, but he did his best to remain calm despite the mix of emotions running through his head. He watched as the Akimichi carried her quickly off to the hospital. Kakashi didn't miss though, the blood stains on his tunic surrounding the area where her head was resting, circling her face. She had bled a lot in her time away, he realized.

God, he felt sick. So fucking nauseous.

"What happened?" he breathed heavily, words slipping through.

"Apparently, the guy had a grudge against your clan for something your father did to his family. Killed a criminal brother or some shit. When he heard wind of your girlfriend he knew he would take his revenge. Didn't want ransom, fame, nothing, just to torment you and torture her. Disgusting bastard."

There was one thing he wanted to know on top of his worry about her condition. He’d been thinking about it for the entire day she was missing. Obsessing even.

"What did you do with the man?" He hoped that justice had been served, and he couldn't imagine the two boys doing anything less.

"A man that would do that to a woman doesn't deserve his life," he muttered, his eyes trailed off to the village, “I made it painful.”

Kakashi nodded to him, and together they stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity.

“Sensei?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry.”

____________

When he got to the hospital, Choji was directly quickly to a special unit with particularly fancy machines around the room. Sakura was standing beside her own mentor awaiting the arrival of her friend. The moment she finally saw Y/N's exposed face, she cried. Tears fell from her eyes and she leant over the hospital bed to get a look at all her wounds. She looked alien, and the amount of blood that stained her hairline and cheeks was thick and heavy. Choji had tried to wipe it off, but he just couldn’t get it all.

"Y/N! Oh my God, what did they do to you?" She cried, running her hands shakily over the contusions and the cuts and the bulging areas near her temples. Her body was no better but her face is what hurt Sakura the most. It was hard to believe that all the life had been drained from her body after this one incident.

The light had left her body. Her familiar glow emanating from her soft skin was missing. She looked cold and dead. For the first time, Sakura saw her without her smile, without any bit of optimism. It felt like she was staring at an empty shell of the woman she knew.

"Sakura, get the IV ready. I need to get to work."

And so she did what she does best. Healers at work in their element fixing broken bones, burst capillaries in her head, torn skin. Everything they could. It took hours, and her face still wasn't completely healed in the end, just less swollen. She still had some bumps and bruises but those weren't going to be so bad. They could heal by themselves with a few days of rest and care.

She would be okay, they decided after a while of treatment, and moved her into a normal hospital room, under watch of nurses every so often, no visitors allowed either. Not for the first few days, much to Kakashi's displeasure. He was really getting irritated with the way everyone was keeping him from seeing her. Shouldn’t he be allowed? Essentially, the only family she had left? In reality though, he was scared.

But did he even want to see her again? He loved her, would do anything in the world for her. If only he had the guts to just give up on her and let her meet a normal man from the village, let her marry him and just forget all about their relationship. Then, nothing like this would ever happen again. She would be safer without having connections with him. He was so upset with himself for letting this happen.

He hated himself. It had been a long time since he genuinely thought those words. He hated himself more than anyone else. He let this happen, he was to blame for all this mess. A monster.

He headed back to his apartment that night and stared over at her tiny pile of belongings in the corner, ones she had left over his place as time went on. They still didn't live together so it wouldn't be the worst thing if he broke up with her. She would be hurt, probably cry for a few days, a week, maybe a month. He didn’t know. All he knew was that a little bit of crying was a lot better than getting fatally injured.

Just return her belongings in a box, and never go back to that fucking bookshop where he fell in love with her. He could get his novels directly from Jiraiya if he wanted them.

Tsunade already told him it would be days before he would be allowed to see her again, something about the healing process and that her chakra wasn't enough to fix everything. Based on what Shikamaru had told him, the way he acted- it must have been pretty bad. He couldn't even imagine her face beaten and broken.

All he knew was that in 2 days, he would be allowed to see her again, to possibly talk to her and apologize for what he had caused. It was the least he could do. At this point he couldn't imagine giving her that ring. How could she accept when he was the reason she was abducted and tortured?

He barely slept that night, but it didn't matter. He didn't have anything to do. He was given time off work until everything was resolved. He wondered if it would have been better to have a mission and forget all about the situation for even a couple fleeting moments.

He was just so tired of these feelings. He felt suffocated, and unlike himself. He was finding it hard to be cool, calm, and collected like usual. He just felt terrible. Too terrible to eat, too terrible to sleep, too terrible to do anything but stare up at the ceiling and wonder what could have been.

______

It was time to head to the hospital and see her. Yamato had come to his apartment so they could go and see Y/N. Tsunade gave him the green light first thing that morning when he reported to her. The wood style ninja wanted to see her as well, just to say he was happy she was recovering and even tell her that next time she needed help, if Kakashi wasn't around, to run to his apartment. He would always open his arms to help. So many shinobi of the village, after this incident, would be willing to drop everything and help. Her bookstore would probably always have eyes on it from now on.

Word travelled fast between the shinobi and soon enough almost everyone was giving Kakashi sympathetic looks, patting him on the back and apologizing to him for something they knew nothing about. He just wanted to get to her and say sorry for everything he had done. For not being there sooner, for his father and his clan causing this whole thing. He just needed to see her face. He couldn't get her out of his head.

Sakura was standing outside the room when he arrived. She was biting on her nails, which was oddly uncharacteristic of her. She rarely got nervous enough for habits like that to arise. She was normally so confident. That was the first of the red flags.

"Kakashi-sensei, Yamato. You're here to see Y/N, aren't you?" she asked, her voice quiet and hesitant.

She let him Yamato walk past her into the room but she raised her hand before Kakashi could walk in. She gave him one of the most sorry, pitiful looks he had ever seen, and her lip was quivering just a bit. It was barely noticeable but Kakashi was talented at noting the smallest things.

"Kakashi, I'm really sorry about everything. Lady Tsunade did everything she could. When you go in there, just please don't get upset. It's not as bad as you think. I'll explain everything later, but I want to see how she reacts to seeing you first," she bit out, her words mending together awkwardly.

He figured she was just nervous about her condition or maybe she was still bruised and bandaged up. If she was in a full body cast, he wouldn’t care. As long as he could see her. He couldn’t understand why Sakura was so worried. She would still be beautiful to him. She could never lose that shine that she carried regardless of her external features.

"Hmm. I'm sure it will be fine."

"I'm serious. Don't get upset and alarm her, it's very important you be careful."

"Gotcha."

She watched as he walked past her into the white room, sunlight leaking onto her bedside. The woman was fond of staring out the window since she woke, comforted by the familiarity of the village and the birds that flew by. That was the one thing she needed. Comfort.

Yamato sat at her bedside, and she seemed to be talking to him quietly. Her brows were furrowed deeply and she seemed strained, thoughts running through her brain.

"Kakashi-" the man began to say, desperate to say anything to his friend before the inevitable, but was interrupted.

"Y/N, I was so worried about you," he said, words tumbling out before he could even think. He just had so much to say. He continued, "I need to apologize for what happened. I know I should have been at the shop earlier to help you close, I just got caught up in something. It was my family's fault for your kidnapping. I cannot believe I dropped my guard and let this happen to you, baby-"

She looked at him, but without an ounce of the fondness he was so used to. Instead, his girlfriend just looked confused.

"I… I'm sorry but, Sir, do I know you?"

No.

Not this.

He pleaded in his head that this was not happening. That somehow he had misheard.

"It's me, Kakashi,” he replied softly, almost pleading for her to say something else.

She smiled sympathetically, peering up at him with a little glimmer of that kindness he knew in her eyes. He could tell she was confused, and he began to feel his heart break. "Uh, I'm so sorry but I don't remember you. We're we friends or something?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say something like that,” he muttered, his eyes turned to stare at the white tiles beneath his feet.He couldn’t look at her anymore.

"Yamato, you're friends with Kakashi-san, too?" She asked the brunette at her bedside, sitting in a chair wiping his sweaty palms on the thighs of his pants. He felt himself becoming nervous, especially when he felt Kakashi watching him. Why did she have to ask him that question? Why did she have to address him by his name so casually? He could feel Kakashi begin to bubble up emotions he hadn’t felt from him before.

"Yes. We are all very close friends, Y/N. You were closest with Kakashi actually."

"Then how come I can’t remember any of you?"

"I don't know." He felt fear creeping up his neck, Kakashi overwhelming his senses. The grey haired man just stood there, his eye flickering between the love of his life and his friend who apparently her brain thought was more important than him. Did he not look friendly enough to talk to? Was Yamato more inviting than he was, was that why she stopped talking to him? “I really wish I could help you there,” he mumbled.

She turned back to Kakashi and smiled, but it wasn't the one he knew from her. It was different. He hated it. He didn't even want to look at her anymore.

"I hope I remember you soon, or I'll just have to get to know you again, Kakashi-san," she chirped, reaching out to touch his hand which rested on the edge of her bed. The reaction he had was immediate and almost startling. The second her hand touched his, her warmth pressed to his cold fingers, he yanked his hand away and shoved it into his pocket.

He didn't want her to touch him. He didn't want anything other than to leave. Fuck getting to know him again. That wasn't an option.

"I need to go. I've got a mission I need to prepare for."

"Okay! Goodluck out there," she called to him as he turned on his heel to leave. He grit his teeth, feeling another wave of emotion overtake him. As he stepped outside the door, Sakura was still waiting there for him, her arms crossed over her chest sheepishly.

"Will she ever remember me again?" He asked simply.

"I don't know. She's got retrograde amnesia which can sometimes be permanent depending on the damage done to the brain. We couldn't fix it, no matter how much we tried. She doesn't remember me either. She doesn't remember Gai or Naruto or even Tsunade. She only remembers the village and a few bits and pieces that she can associate with it. Of course she remembers her name and her bookstore, but specific people and memories are essentially gone for now."

"So she's lost to us?"

"She can still get her memories back, but it will take time," she explained. "Sensei, I'm so sorry. None of us wished anything like this on you. I told Tsunade about the ring you were going to give her and the proposal, and we mourned for you. I'm so sorry." She felt so bad, and they did cry for him. They cried for the girl who got to keep her life but lost her soul.

"I have to get back to my apartment and clean up a few things," he dismissed, turning his head away from his student as well. He felt his heart clench in his chest as he walked away. The ring still sat deep in his pants pocket and he wanted nothing more than to throw it in the river.

He wished he was the one who forgot everything. Maybe this pain in his heart would subside. Maybe all the guilt would be washed away once and for all.

Part Two and Three are out.

[shorkbrian]

hirhuuruhurr step bro shinsou with his sister that loveD him before but now doesn't because they all of sudden ignores him, hates him, and sneers at him if he looks, touches or talks to her, maybe he even brings up how when they were kids she used to love her big brother so much ahurhurhuiirurhurrr if hating shinsou would be a job stepsis reader would be the richest person alive hurhrurhurr😳

Prelude - idek what this is im so sorry man hope it doesn’t disappoint

Pairing -  Stepbrother Shinsou X Reader

Prompt -  Right at the top babeyy

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, dubcon, blowjobs, cunnilingous, full on NSFW

Music - I listened to https://youtu.be/N8aSrLda8_Q on repeat. Doesn’t really fit the one shot but It’s what I listened to so 

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

You were careful now, took precautions. You had a list of rules that you kept track of in your head, rules that kept you safe, rules that kept you sane. There weren’t many, but you clung to them nonetheless, let them be your mantra.

1. Never be alone in the same room. This one seemed easy. It was anything but.  Always hovering and clinging to your mom had annoyed her after a while, and your dad was almost never home. But you managed the best you could. If you were in the kitchen and heard Shinsou say hi to your mom as he came through the door, headed for the kitchen, you would abandon ship. Leaving half-prepared food on the counters had gotten you in trouble a couple times, but you’d rather get scolded for a minute or two than get cornered by your stepbrother.  

2. Always lock your door. Your mom didn’t understand why you broke down in tears when she denied your request to get a lock on your bedroom door.  Thankfully, she backtracked, saying that if it was so important to you, dad would pick one up and install it that weekend. It made you feel better, even though you could never shake the feeling that you weren’t completely safe.   

3. Don’t let him touch you. The most important of them all. No hugs, no high-fives. If you were sitting on the couch and Shinsou happened to sit next to you, you would immediately get up and move to a different seat. Your parents were oblivious, never questioned why.  At the dinner table you started sitting next to your dad, where mom usually sat, instead of next to your stepbrother. Once again, your parents didn’t notice, though your mom had commented on your more-sour-than-normal moods multiple times.  

She picked up on your refusal to be around your brother, how your face twisted into a frown whenever he got home from working at the carwash, the way you stiffened and got defensive if he was in the room. She chalked it up to a fight, siblings being siblings.

You wish it had been that simple.

It had been a fight, sort-of. You had tried to playfully punch him at first, when he dragged you to his room without telling you why.  Shinsou probably just wanted to play video games or something, maybe he had gotten a new game and was excited about showing you? 

But when he shut the door behind you two, he got rougher, grip tighter. He led you to the bed, asked you to sit down. You did. He asked you to suck him off, unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper of his jeans.

It was vague, you tried not to remember  the details. You had hit him, punched him straight in the stomach, rising to your feet. He wasn’t expecting you to kick him between the legs. You weren’t expecting for him to hit you back, the force of his slap making you lose your balance, totter back and sit down heavily on the bed, face burning red.  It hurt.

It didn’t stop hurting.

It hurt when he pulled your hair, guiding your mouth to his cock. You didn’t want to taste it, didn’t want anything to do with it. You didn’t like the smell, his pubes were scratchy on your face as he rubbed his cock over your face when you refused to part your lips. 

It hurt when Shinsou got tired of that, when he shoved you onto your back and straddled your chest. You couldn’t breathe.

It hurt when he pinched your nose, forcing you to open your mouth or risk passing out.

Tears were clouding your vision by the time he finished,  lungs burning, heart hurting.

No matter how hard you tried to forget, the memory was still there, was always there; consuming, haunting you.

——

You could barely stand to look at him now. 

The purple-haired man acted as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t forced his cock down your throat, as if he hadn’t violated your trust. You hated him.  He would try to talk to you, ask you how school was going or if you wanted to go hang out at the movies. If yours parents were in the room, you always gave him a curt “No”, but if it was just the two of you, Shinsou asking you through the locked door of your room, his questions were met with silence.  Your stepbrother didn’t deserve anything from you.

Weeks passed, with Shinsou trying to interact with you and your blatant refusal to even acknowledge his presence. He had tried to pull you into a hug one day, right after you had gotten home from class. You had just come through the door, turning to shuck off your shoes before heading up to your room when arms encircled your chest, pulling you back into a lithe body. It was suffocating. 

The second you saw purple hair out of the corner of your eye, you were thrashing, twisting in your brother’s strong grip, wriggling out of his grasp.  He had let you go, and you turned, rounded on him like a wild animal - teeth bared, eyes full of fear.

Shinsou was silent, looking at you with an indiscernible emotion in his eyes. The both of you were frozen, staring at each other, daring one another to make the first move. Your brother reached out towards you, hand headed toward your hair as if to push the messy strands away from your face. You slapped his hand away with a flat “Don’t you fucking touch me.”, but your wrists were suddenly pressed together, Shinsou’s large hands trapping them in an iron grip, pulling you towards him before you had time to blink.

It was scary, pressed up against your brother, wrists immobilized, the man looking down at you with furrowed brows. Was he angry? He had no right to be.  Without thinking, you were biting on his arm, a exclamation of pain being cursed out by your brother. He let you go, cradling his arm to his chest and you bolted, taking the steps two at a time to reach the safety of your room. He didn’t try to touch you after that.

Shinsou lingered more often now. You knew the man would hesitate outside your door, hear his gentle, even footsteps falter, pause before moving on to his own room further down the hall. When you were drifting off to sleep, your doorknob would rattle quietly, clicking as it turned, as someone tried to open it. You knew it was Shinsou; your parents would knock and ask to come in. You were so grateful for the lock. Still, whenever the noise was heard, you froze, fear clenching your muscles and making you breathless. It was impossible to relax until the noise stopped, until you heard the soft sigh from the other side of the door, then retreating footsteps. 

It was always hard to sleep after that. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

—— “Alright honey, you have our numbers, you know to call if anything comes up! I love you!”

You waved to your mom, biting your lip as you watched your parents pull out of the driveway, watched their car disappear down the road. They were going on a trip, something with your dad’s work.  Mom figured it would be a nice little getaway if she went with him, take some time just for the two of them. You knew she also figured that it would give you and your brother to work out whatever little ‘squabble’ that had seemed to sour your relationship. She had told you so,  told you that  she knew how siblings could be. 

“You two just need to communicate, tell him what he said or did that has you so upset. He’s a rational guy, I’m sure he didn’t mean to make you angry with him. I’m sure the two of you can work it out.”

If only she knew. 

You wanted to tell her. But how does one start a conversation like that? “Hey, just letting you know! Your son forced me to suck his dick! It was awful lol.” Just didn’t seem appropriate. Neither did “Your son scares the bejesus out of me! I’m afraid he’s going to rape me lol, please help haha!”.  You were so ashamed. And now you were going to be stuck with Shinsou, by yourself, for a full two weeks. 

At least you still had school. You could stay in your room when you weren’t at school, maybe you could hang out at the library too? Anything to get out of the house, away from your brother.

Shinsou had work, and you knew the basics of his schedule. Knew he left before you woke up in the morning. Got back around 3 or 4 in the afternoon. Was off Friday through Sunday.  It should be easy enough to avoid him. He was gone right now, it being mid-morning on a Monday.  Stepping back into the house, you took a deep breath, sinking down to a crouch after shutting the door. You could do this, stay safe, make it through the next two weeks without your parents around to act as a buffer between you and your brother.   

—— You had just finished lunch, a simple affair of a crappy PB&J, and were sitting down to watch TV. There were some episodes of your favorite show that you wanted to catch up on, and now was the perfect time. Or, it would be if you didn’t hear keys rattling in the door. 

 A quick glance at the clock had you worried, the time being barely past 1. Shinsou wasn’t supposed to be home yet. Oh well, you figured you could just go hole up in your room, maybe work on homework or play computer games. As you turned off the TV, you heard the front door open, close, a soft grunt as Shinsou struggled to kick off his shoes. 

Unfortunately, to get to the stairs you had to pass by the entryway, and the second you did, Shinsou noticed you.

“(Y/N), hey.”

You didn’t answer.

“I know you can hear me. Can I talk to you about something?”

He was following you up the steps, a menacing presence.  “Shouldn’t you be at work? Leave me alone.”  You were in the hallway now, socked feet padding softly as you quickened your pace.

“I’m getting two weeks off. I wanted to ask-“

“Why the hell are you getting two weeks off?”

You whirled around, bracing yourself in your doorway. If he tried to come in, you could slam the door in his face. But you wanted to know, why was he getting a vacation, especially now?

Shinsou had his hands in his pockets, looking off to the side as he shrugged. “I dunno…. Don’t really care either. But I was thinking, since mom and dad are gone-“

“I’m not doing anything, going anywhere, or talking to you. Stay the fuck away from me.”  You  cut him off, moving to shut the door, mind whirling as you tried to think how this impacted your ‘avoid-Shinsou-at-all-costs’ plan.

A foot stopped the door from closing, Shinsou grabbing the door with a hand and wrenching it open, out of your grasp. He looked frustrated, the small crease that showed up between his eyebrows when he was irritated was visible as you glanced at his face.

“Can you let me talk? You keep interrupting, it’s rude.”

“I don’t fucking care, let go of the door.” You grabbed the handle, tried to tug it shut. Shinsou wouldn’t let you.

“That’s another thing - you have such a dirty mouth. Didn’t anybody ever teach you that ladies shouldn’t swear? Your manners are atrocious.”

He was prying open the door, stepping inside, sneering down at you as he talked, voice low and full of venom. Small steps backward, you shot him a glare, staring into his stupid violet eyes. You hated him so much.

“Fuck off, what are you, an incel? Figures.  Now get the hell out of my room.”  Shinsou was scaring you, herding you further into your room. You wanted this conversation over, him gone, door closed and locked. 

The man smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.  “Or what? You’ll call mom? Dad?” Shinsou scoffed. “As if they’d believe you.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Y’know, I really did just want to talk.” Shinsou continued, reaching behind him to swing the door shut, clicking the lock into place. You started breathing harder, short gasping breaths. “But you are just have to be difficult, don’t you? Always so disrespectful.”

He was stepping towards you, backing you up against your bed. This couldn’t be happening, you were starting to feel sick to your stomach, dizzy, unable to breathe.

 “Shinsou, get out. Get the fuck out, right now.” You hoped you sounded less scared than you felt - but you knew your voice sounded small, could hear the waver of fear underneath each word.

“No. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks now, not saying hi, not letting me hug you, sit next to you.  I think you need to be taught some manners, need to learn a little respect.”   

You were trapped now, legs pressed against your bed, Shinsou getting closer and closer. You couldn’t just sit there and take it like last time. A split-second decision and you were launching yourself to the side, trying to dodge around Shinsou, run to the door. If you could get out of the house, maybe you could convince your neighbors to let you stay with them.

Shinsou clotheslined you.

He fucking clotheslined you.

A choked yelp left your mouth as his arm slammed against your throat, the force causing you to stumble back, gripping at your throat. That was cheap. He was pushing you, shoving you onto your bed with almost no effort, his eyes boring into you, watching as your face turned red, eyes got puffy. 

“Don’t make me hurt you, you know I can.”

“Shinsou don’t you fucking dar-“

“Shut up. Shut your stupid little mouth.” He cut you off, climbing onto your bed, hovering over you. He was breathing hard too, panting almost. “You need to be polite, be nice to your older brother. Stop cussing or else I’ll gag you, got it?”

Shinsou was grabbing your face, fingers digging into your jaw, the pressure too much for you to handle. There was no use fighting him. You nodded quickly, and he let go, leaning back. “Good. Now take off your shirt.”

Trying to think of a way out of this, you hesitated. The purple-haired man noticed. “Take off your shirt, or I’ll do it for you. Choose.”

With trembling hands, you removed your shirt. You hated him.

Shinsou was still sitting on his heels beside you on the bed, looking over your body, pleased. “Good girl. Now lay back, no no, don’t cover yourself. Lay down.”

You did as he asked, resting your back against the soft covers of your bed. You distantly realized you were going to have to throw out your bedding after this. There was no way you’d be able to sleep in it after this, even if you washed it. 

Your brother stood, unbuckling his belt and shucking off his pants while you arranged yourself, and you looked away. You didn’t want to see him, see what he had between his legs. Yeah, It had been in your mouth, but you tried to forget about that.  It threw you off guard when hands hooked around the hem of your shorts, your head whipping up to see Shinsou fully nude, sliding down your shorts and panties in one fluid movement. You wanted to kick at his face, give him a black eye. You would, if you weren’t terrified of what he would do to you after. 

The man climbed back on the bed, patted your face gently as he moved to straddle your abdomen. You closed your eyes before you caught sight of his dick.

“Shinsou, don’t do this. You can’t, I’m your sister. Please.” It was worth a shot, begging him to leave you alone, put his clothes back on and the two of you could pretend this never happened.

“Be quiet. Let me enjoy you and I’ll make you feel good too, alright?”

You flinched when you felt his hands (they were always so cold) grip your chest, push your tits together. When he spat on the space between them, you almost gagged. Eyes still closed, you could feel him position his dick, begin sliding it in-between your chest. It didn’t hurt, but your head did. You wanted to stop.

Shinsou groaned, thrusting picking up speed, his cock dragging smoothly between your tits like it belonged there. He was using his hands not only to squeeze your chest together, but to play with your nipples, running a finger or two around each one, occasionally flicking them. You wouldn’t allow yourself to admit it felt kinda good. 

It didn’t take too long, Shinsou desperately humping against your chest and moaning, before warm cum was striped across your chest, some of it landing on your neck. He must’ve been pent up for while - when he made you suck him off he lasted much longer.  With a sigh, Shinsou shimmied down your body, noticing your flinch when his cock brushed against your stomach. 

“I’m gonna clean you up, then we’ll play some more, don’t worry.”

You hated him.

Your eyes opened when you felt his tongue on your chest, and you realized with disgust that he was licking up his own cum, watching your face while he did so. It was filthy. You tried not to shiver when his tongue laved over your nipples, or when he latched onto your throat, sucking with a gentle intensity that made your insides tingle.

Before you had too much time to feel guilty about that, He was moving again, getting off of your body. Hopefully he was done? As he rearranged himself on his side, pulling you onto your side to face him, it was clear that he wasn’t. Shinsou had his semi-hard cock in your face, had his own face nudging towards your thighs, towards your trembling pussy.  This was so disgusting. 

“Shin-“ 

He slapped your pussy.

You yelped when his hand came in contact with your cunt, making you buck away from the sensation. Well, at least, you tried to. His other hand had a firm grip on your thigh, kept you on your side facing him.

“What have I told you? Do I really need to shove something in your mouth to shut you up? Put me in your mouth, no teeth or I’ll do something you won’t like.”

With a frown, you obeyed, gingerly grabbing his cock and leading it to your mouth. You had seen a few dicks before, and luckily his wasn’t crazy thick, or long, or thin. Admittedly, he had a nice, normal dick, in perfect proportion with his lean body. You didn’t want to put it in your mouth, but you didn’t want anything to happen to your pussy. 

His dick was wet with spit and cum from where he was fucking it against your chest, and you wanted to gag as you licked at the tip, shuddering when Shinsou groaned low in his throat. Before you could think about it too much, you shoved as much of him in your mouth as you could handle, wrapping your hand around the rest that couldn’t fit.

Shinsou’s hips bucked forward, and you almost did gag, not expecting it. But you regained your composure, began sucking gently at his dick like it was a ring-pop, cringing at the salty taste that lingered on the soft skin.

You could feel him lifting up your thigh, leaning forward. You jumped when His tongue began running over your pussy lips, slicking you up with his saliva. Your own hips twitched, trying to resist moving at the heavenly sensation of his tongue running through your folds.

He was moaning into your pussy, tongue fucking you. You could feel him smile whenever he coaxed a noise out of you - could feel the vibrations of each gasp or trembling moan on his dick as you did your best to suck him off. It was becoming increasingly hard to keep your hips still, much more so when his tongue slipped out of your opening and came to flick over your clit. 

Embarrassingly, you almost screamed when he wrapped his lips around the little nub, sucking with vigor. It was too much, you had to draw your head back and let his dick slip out of your mouth to give you room to cry.

He kept humming while he sucked, and before you knew it, you were cumming, hands still clutched tightly against his dick while you trembled and wailed through your orgasm.  It took a moment for the aftershocks to leave you, before Shinsou relented in his talented licking and sucking. He drew back, sat up - his fully-hard dick slipped out of your hands. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding onto it. 

“Felt good, yeah? What do we say when someone does something nice for us?”

Still trying to come down from cloud nine, you weren’t really listening. You came crashing back down to earth when Shinsou reached forward,  grabbed your jaw again, squeezing even tighter this time.

“What do we say? Tell me.” His was growling, irritated at your lack of manners. His grip was so tight that it hurt to open your mouth to reply, hurt to whisper out a stuttered “Thank you Shinsou.”. It hurt on the inside too.

Satisfied with you answer, your brother released your face, cooing as he again shifted on the bed. He grabbed you, flipped you onto your stomach, despite the way you whispered out soft “no, no, no.”’s as he did so.  You had hoped he would be done after he came on your chest, had hoped he would leave after making you reach your own orgasm.  

He was kneeling behind you, grabbed one of your legs and lifted it into the air, twisting your lower body so your hips were sideways. Shinsou lined his cock up with your pussy, not even letting you breathe before he began pushing in. It didn’t hurt, but you were still sensitive from your previous orgasm. He was gentle at first, your brother fucking you with care and a gentleness that had you crying. Why was he doing this, any of it? Why couldn’t he find someone else, anyone else other than his sister? 

It started hurting when his pace picked up, his hips grinding into you quickly, skin slapping together lewdly. You tried not to speak, tried not to let the gasps and moans and whimpers leave your lips. Shinsou was likewise quiet, enjoy the sounds of your lovemaking with his eyes closed. His hands were still so cold, gripping your leg and holding it in the air, the other wrapped around your hip, lifting you so his cock could hammer into you at the perfect height.

He was fucking into you so fast, you couldn’t think, could barely breathe. It was impossible to hold on to the disgust, the revulsion that crawled up your throat when you remembered who it was that was working your pussy so well. It felt good, his cock sliding through the wet of your pussy, the friction smooth and delicous and -

You whimpered as you came, hands clawing at the sheets, writhing in Shinsou’s hold.  Your brother didn’t stop, although he groaned when he felt your pussy clenching down on his cock, rhythmically massaging the length. Instead, Shinsou kept his fast pace, despite how you wailed and babbled and twitched, asking him to “Stop, stop! Shinsou, stop stop I can’t!”

“Remember what I said about manners?” His was panting hard, voice low. “You don’t get anything until you say please.”

“Please! Shinsou please, please stop! Please-“

He was still jackrabbiting into you, ruthlessly pounding you into the mattress. Was he listening? You had said please.

“Shinsou! Please oh please I can’t-“ With a disgruntled huff (he was hesitant to leave your tight warmth), Shinsou pulled out, dropping his hold on your lower body. Within seconds, he had his hands around his cock, stripping it furiously over you, eyes never leaving your sweaty, heaving form.

“Say “Thank you Shinso”. Say it. Tell me how grateful you are.”

“T-thank you Shinsou.” You sniffed, trying not to sob. You knew he wanted you to say more, but that was going to have to be good enough.

The man groaned, his hips humping his cock into his hand before he squeezed his eyes shut, and he then was cumming. It shot out of his cock and onto you, over your hip and the flesh of your backside, his hips still working.

When he was finished, Shinsou collapsed onto your bed next to you, breathing hard.

“(Y/N)….” HIs voice cracked. “(Y/N).” He tried again. “You’re…. That was really good. Thank you.”  He leaned towards you, placed a chaste kiss on your cheek. You shoved down the need to recoil from his touch.

You hated him.