#overstimulation and exhaustion and emotions much easier

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

it's ridiculous to give someone their first pair of glasses then expect them to want to navigate the world without them after that, but somehow it's expected that ppl with ADHD should just deal w/ not having their normal prescription

[variety-fangirl]

Thinking about reader having a tough time, a tough couple of weeks, of just feeling awful. Your mental health had taken a toll and gotten bad again. You weren't exactly sure what specifically set it off this time. It was most likely a combination of things.

Your workload had picked up due to the increase in your rent, which put you financially out some, and you didn't want to bother others with that problem. You would feel too awful to even think of asking. You'd put on some weight due to the late nights and long hours working, so you didn't have as much time to prepare proper or healthy meals, which of course meant you had been snacking on the go. You'd overheard a few of your coworkers make some unkind comments on your weight and how "unkempt" you seemed as of late, whilst they finished early and had a dual income, so they didn't understand. But that had given your demons some fuel to get to work.

You were one of the very first people in and one of the last out. You had finished late every night for the last two weeks, running on caffeine, instant foods, and fumes. You pushed yourself, every day, just to make ends meet and it still didn't seem enough. You had almost fallen asleep a few times at your desk and had to down an energy drink or hurriedly drink coffee to stay awake.

You also had slacked on the household chores, which meant things were more messy and disorganised than you liked. It meant everything felt chaotic. It made things difficult to find when you were rushing around and late. You also felt like your relationship was suffering because of it, which just added the final nail in the coffin. Plus, your boyfriend seemed to be ignoring you as of late. So everything was just too much.

It was finally the weekend. You finally had some days off to do what was neglected through the weeks. You thought you'd start off easy, you did the mounds of laundry that needed washing. But the whole time, you were mentally berating yourself for not doing it sooner. You next cleaned the kitchen, mopping the floor and disinfecting the surfaces. Which is then followed by the living room and dining room. But, again, you just kept thinking about how gross and lazy you were, punishing yourself for not taking care of it.

You were doing mental hoops of insults, all the while making your mood worse and throwing you further into a pit of depression. You spent the whole of Saturday cleaning, putting away, and sorting your solo home out. You wanted to do nothing more than relax, but your brain kept saying how you didn't deserve rest or to relax until everything you'd neglected was completed. You hated it, which made you hate yourself.

It took you 5 hours to do everything. It took all of your energy to force yourself back upstairs afterwards. You still had more to do up there, so you got to it. You sat down on the floor where you had set out the weeks' worth of piles and piles of laundry to put away, but you quickly got frustrated and overstimulated with exhaustion. You just wanted a nap, things to be easier, and to stay on top of things. Was that so much to ask for? Apparently.

The tears began falling and refused to stop. Weeks of pent-up and pushed-down emotions had finally caught up to you and erupted. You were sobbing, loudly and hysterically, as you curled in on yourself and fisted the laundry in your hands. You were tired, so fucking tired. Of everything. You just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up for a while. You knew it wasn't healthy, this lifestyle that was taking absolutely everything out of you, but you didn't know what to do or how to break the cycle to give yourself some reprieve.

But here you were. The fumes that were running on nothingness had finally caved in under the mass of enervations and pressure. You weren't sure how long you sat there wailing and sobbing out your frustrations and complete exhaustion, just holding yourself and pulling at your hair. Your phone had vibrated multiple times in a short period but you just couldn't physically move, you couldn't do anything but weep to your heart's content. Not that you could look at your phone anyway, your vision was blurry from the constant stream of tears.

At some point, you hear the door open and footsteps coming up. Coming straight in your direction. You knew you had never unlocked the door from last night when you came home late. And only one person had a key to your place, your boyfriend. You watched with teary vision as he came around the doorway and walked towards you, pushing the laundry out of the way so he could kneel in front of you.

"W-what are y-you doing h-here?" You gasped out, whimpering about him seeing you in such a state of disarray and collapse. He had never seen you have a breakdown before, he'd naturally seen you cry, but not this bad.

"You butt-dialled me, sweetheart. I was so worried and stressed out that you wouldn't answer me and just kept sobbing. I dropped everything and came straight here. Think I broke multiple speeding laws to get here." He breathlessly chuckles as you giggle sadly through your tears, an accidental whimper following. You feel his hands gently grab your face to look at him.

"Talk to me, my love. What's wrong? Do I need to kill someone for you?" He half-jokes, a look of pure worry filling his beautiful features. You shake your head in his hands as you reach up to grasp his wrists in your palms to ground yourself.

You tearily explained everything to him, spilling all your stresses and worries to the man you love. You knew he wouldn't ever judge you or invalidate your feelings, so you felt comfortable laying everything out for him. He listened, hooked on every word, and patiently worked with you. All while stroking your face lovingly.

Once you were done, you sobbed once more. All the emotions pouring out of you in one go. He made you feel safe and gave you a space to be vulnerable and transparent with him. That was irreplaceable.

He wordlessly pulled you into his lap, manoeuvring you where he wanted you. You just let him, ending up with your face in the crook of his neck and straddling his lap. You immediately latched onto him, wrapping your arms around any part of you could, your hands fisting his clothing for dear life. He stayed there for some time, comforting you with sweet words and back rubs, until you calmed down enough. He was patient and kind, giving you everything you needed.

He eventually picked you up with him as he stood, not once releasing you and walked to your bathroom. He started the water, letting it warm up as he placed you down on the floor. He undressed you slowly, placing feathery kisses in the pattern and traces of where his hands once were on each and every inch of exposed skin, all the while adorning you with compliments and telling you how much he loves you. You were now crying for a completely different reason, but much less aggressively.

Once he finished his worshipping of your body, he undressed himself, discarding both of your clothes in the hamper. (So thoughtful). He then helped you into the shower, following closely behind, and proceeded to wash and massage every bit of you. He completely pampered and worshipped you, from your hair down to your toes. He took his time, being the most gentle and soft that he had ever been with you or anything in his entire life. He made all your stress and worries melt away. He allowed you to wash and tend to him in return after a lot of convincing, expressing you wanted to and it would make you feel better.

You worshipped him in return, not wanting to make everything about you. Especially with how well he was treating you, he always did, but he was extra attentive tonight to help meet your needs.

Once you were both done in the shower, he dried you and carried you into the bedroom. He spent the next hour on top of you and in between your legs. Being slow, affectionate, and gentle. His lips kissed every inch of skin he could while making love to you, wanting to express every bit of his emotions he could to you. You received mindblowing orgasm after orgasm, all while your hands stayed intertwined. And afterwards, you fell asleep on his chest with one of his arms wrapped around you and the other stroking your hair.

You were awoken the next morning with breakfast in bed from your favourite breakfast place, your favourite flowers and a fully cleaned home. Which of course made you cry again but from happy tears. You spent the afternoon in bed, making love and enjoying the calm and happy mood.

By the end of the following week, he was fully moved into your place, after a few months of dating. He made you cut down on your work hours, claiming to handle everything and helped you to keep on top of anything that needed doing. You were so thankful he was yours and didn't know how you would ever repay him.

(Multi) I had Simon, John, Johnny, Gaz, Gojo, Geto, Megumi, Nanami, Marc, Eddie, and Steve, in mind while writing this.

[vinnyvamppp]

Omg please right another eve smut fic 🙏🏼 She is so fine and has 0 fics. #needthat

Burnout

Note: #weneedthat and I'm so upset more people aren't writing for her (I'm aware of one other) OR RAE... I mean, hey, I don't mind writing for the baddies.

Warnings: Smut, Fingering, Dry Humping, Oral Fixation, Kitchen Sex, Emotional Vulnerability, Touch Starved, WLW, Light Power Imbalance, Fluff (hero x civilian), Overstimulation, Evebeingsofine, etc. Synopsis: Through her heroisms, you and Eve fostered a friendship. Watching the world beat her down through the paper broke your poor little heart... so why not offer the girl some relief for her burnout?

Atom Eve/Samantha Eve Wilkins x Farmer!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,088

The sun had long since dipped behind the hills when you spotted her.

The soft hum of pink energy gave her away before her boots ever touched the dirt. She was hovering just above your east field, brow furrowed, arms crossed tight across her chest. Her suit, scorched at the sleeves, clung to her like a second skin, her orange hair wind-tossed and sticking to her jawline.

Another long day. You could see it all over her face.

You set the bucket of feed down beside the fencepost and dusted your hands on your jeans. “You trying to sneak in and fix my irrigation again, Wilkins?” She landed with a sigh that seemed to echo across the whole valley. “I wasn’t going to fix it,” she said. “Just… help.”

You leaned against the post, arms folded over your broad chest. “That drip line’s old, but it works fine. You’ve already done more than enough.” Eve huffed out a breath, a corner of her mouth tugging up. “You’re the only person I know who turns down a personal superhero.”

“I’m not turning you down.” You nodded toward the porch. “I’m just saying you don’t have to save me on top of saving everybody else.” She hesitated. For a second, you saw the strain behind her eyes. The exhaustion she didn’t let anyone else see. But you weren’t anyone else. Not anymore.

“You been out since sunrise?” you asked gently.

Eve looked down at her boots. “There was a quake near Jakarta. Then a mudslide in Chile. A few floods in Bangladesh.” She paused. “And three fires. Big ones.” You whistled low. “Hell.”

She didn’t answer. Just kept her eyes trained on the soil, shoulders rigid. You crossed the space between you with slow, even steps and reached out—not touching her yet, just letting her feel the weight of your presence.

“You need to come inside,” you said. “Sit for a bit. You look like you're about to fall over.”

“I’m fine.”

“Eve.”

Something in your voice made her blink up at you. She saw the concern there. The steadiness. You didn’t push. You just waited. Let her come to you like you always did. After a few long seconds, she nodded, and you opened the door.

She sat at your table, elbows resting on her knees, face in her hands. You handed her a glass of cold water and a fresh towel to clean the grime from her neck. You said nothing while she drank. You didn't need to. The silence was safe here.

When she looked up, there was something raw in her eyes. Something frayed.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “The second I fix one thing, another collapses. I feel like I’m plugging holes in a sinking ship. And no one else can float.”

You sat across from her, elbows on your knees to match her height, and met her gaze. “You don’t have to float alone.” Her eyes softened, lips parting just slightly. “You always say that.”

“‘Cause it’s always true.”

She reached out, her fingers brushing yours. Not quite a grip, but an anchor. Her touch was warm. Tired. Needing. You didn’t pull away. Her hand curled into yours, squeezing just a little tighter. “I don’t know what this is,” she murmured, eyes flicking from your mouth back up again. “But when I’m here, I breathe easier.” Your thumb ran over the back of her hand. “Then stay.”

Her eyes glowed faintly, that soft pink shimmer flickering along her skin like a heartbeat. You felt the tingle of it ghosting up your forearm—her powers responding to her emotion, not her command. That happened more and more when she was with you. You hadn't meant to stare—but there she was, appearance haggard and eyes wide, sweat glistening at her temple as she returned your gaze. Her usual glow dimmed by exhaustion. You watched her wipe her brow with the back of her hand, fingers trembling just slightly, like even her power couldn’t mask how worn thin she was. Oh, how beautiful she was to you. In times like this, you stepped forward with a mason jar of something cold to take home. Hoping she’d accept both—hoping she'd look at you the way she did during visits, when her fingers brushed yours a little too long over the tomatoes. And she did. Her gaze lingered, caught on your mouth before snapping away. “You really don't have to keep doing this,” she murmured, not taking the drink. But her voice was low, grateful. “You don’t have to keep showing up for me.” You shrugged, eyes on hers, letting the silence stretch just long enough for the air to charge. “Maybe I want to.” And god, the way she looked at you then—like she was trying not to fall. Like she already had. And now was no different as you watched your reflection shimmer in her pupils.

She moved first.

A quiet shuffle of her chair. A slow lean forward. Her hand cupping the side of your neck, hesitant at first until you tilted your head into her palm, giving her permission. When her lips met yours, it wasn’t desperate. It was relief.

A sigh into your mouth. A whispered exhale that said finally.

And when she climbed into your lap, straddling your thighs, letting herself press flush against your chest—her muscles finally relaxing—you didn’t move to take anything more.

You just held her there. Let her melt. Let her feel what it was like to not carry the world.

It started slow, a gentle exploration, your mouths moving in sync as if they had been made for each other. Her lips were soft, yielding, and you could taste the faint sweetness of her tongue as it tentatively met yours. You groaned quietly, the faint tang reminded you of apricot as you swallowed each of her breaths. “Mmm…” she sighed into the kiss, her voice a quiet flutter against your lips. “You always taste like sunlight.” You chuckled into her mouth. “You’re just sayin’ that because I’m covered in sweat.” Her nose brushed against yours, “Exactly.” The kiss deepened, becoming more insistent, more demanding. Your hand found the small of her back; the other resting against her cheek, tilting her head just enough, giving you better access to her mouth. Her grasp mirrored yours, her fingers tangling within your hair, pulling you closer, as if she couldn't get enough of you. Slowly, you gently guided her as she began to move, her body pressing against yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. The fabric of her clothes and yours created a barrier, but the heat between you was undeniable. Suffocating even. Her breaths came in soft gasps, her eyes never leaving yours as she ground against you, the motion both innocent and intensely erotic. “God,” she murmured breathlessly. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. To just… not be Atom Eve for five damn minutes.” You shifted upwards gently as she began to gyrate, her pelvis pressing down against your crotch. The friction made her gasp—sharp, stifling. Your voice was low, teasing. “Five minutes? I was hoping you’d give me at least ten, sweetheart.” You could feel arousal pool between your thighs as you shifted beneath her, jaw tightening. The faint outline of her lips dragged slowly over the cloth of your crotch, the contact causing a quiet squelch to echo between you two. As the moments passed, the rocking became more urgent, her hips grinding against you with a need that was impossible to ignore. Her unique desperation was nearly erratic, her hips bucking as she sought more. It was fascinating. Seeing a hero you admired and befriended, here, on your lap, singing a lustful tune to you. You could see the desire in her eyes, the way her lips parted slightly, inviting you in. You leaned forward, capturing her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Slouching slightly, your legs parted as your strong hands wrapped around the width of her ass. Cupping the fat, you stood from the chair, too eager to reason with yourself as you fumbled towards the kitchen counter, the stool tipping over with a crash. The kitchen filled with the sounds of your combined groans, the soft moans and gasps, the wet sounds of your fingers moving within her. You broke away from her mouth only to trail kisses down her neck, your tongue flicking out to taste her skin. She shivered, her body trembling with the intensity of it all.

Her hands gripped the counter, knuckles white, as she pushed back against you, meeting your every stroke. The world narrowed down to this moment, this place, this sensation. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the room, but neither of you noticed. She should probably be out there… saving someone. But for once, she’s being saved, distracted from her burdens. You were lost in each other, lost in the slick that glistened across your fingers as her head fell forward. Slowly, your other hand wrapped around her front. Calloused fingers began to rub tight circles around her clit as he back bowed slightly at the sensation. One finger, then two, teasing it until she leans back onto your for support. You felt awfully proud of yourself, never having used your skilled hands, usually meant for plowing fields, for such pleasures. She was seeing stars. “God,” she groaned, body shivering, “marry me already.” “You always this bossy when you’re close?” you murmured. She turned her head just enough to meet your gaze over her shoulder, lips trembling with a smile. “You like it.” earning a chuckle in response. You increased the pace, your fingers moving faster, deeper, as you felt her body tensing, her breath hitching. She was close, so close. You could feel it in the way her muscles quivered, in the way her breath hitched in her throat. You leaned down, stealing her attention for a sloppy kiss, swallowing her cries as she came undone in your arms. Her body convulsed, waves of pleasure washing over her, and you held her tight, your own body aching with need.

And then her back arched, her body shaking as her orgasm hit. You caught her before her knees could give out, pressing soft kisses to her neck as she collapsed against the counter. As the eye twitching climax subsided, you slowed your movements, gentle now, coaxing every last shiver of pleasure from her body. She was quiet for a long moment, catching her breath. Then, with a shaky laugh, she muttered, “What about… what about you?” You grinned into her skin. “Who said we’re done? How about those last five minutes?” The air was thick with the lingering heat of shared breath, flushed skin, and everything unspoken that had just passed between you. Eve lay draped over your chest, her breathing slow, steady now, her cheek pressed against your shoulder like she was trying to nuzzle into your warmth. Outside, the sky was turning a royal blue, the horizon painted in hues too gentle for the chaos she usually lived in. Here, though… There was peace.

You brushed a hand through her hair, fingers tangling softly in strands still damp with sweat. “You’re not thinking of flying off already, are you?” you murmured, voice teasing but quiet. She made a soft sound—half a laugh, half a sigh—but didn’t move.

“I should,” she said eventually, reluctant. Her fingers swiped through her phone, watching catastrophe sling across her social media. “There’s a collapsing bridge in Chicago, a drought in South Africa, and someone’s cat stuck on a roof in Oregon.” You smiled, pressing your lips to the crown of her head. “Or… there’s peach jam, that blanket you like, and a fire with your name on it. You could stay.” You paused, letting your fingers trail down her back. “Just for tonight.”

She tilted her head to look at you, a soft smile pulling at her lips. “You really trying to bribe a superhero with jam?” You shrugged. “It’s good jam. And you’re not just a superhero. Not to me.”

That gave her pause. Her gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest moment before she leaned in, kissed you slowly, no urgency, just warmth and a promise. “I’ll come back,” she whispered, her fingers brushing your jaw. “I always will.”

And then, curled into your side as the fire crackled low and sweet behind her, Eve closed her eyes. Just for now, she stayed.

A/N: I miss my cartoon wife already :((

[greghatecrimes]

…can we have some more autistic thirteen pls?

oh my goodness, yes always and absolutely! Here are some thoughts I've been bouncing recently about autistic Thirteen & school over the years.

(Thank you in no small part to Bird + her Adams hcs for inspiring these. If you enjoy Adams in any way shape or form you should definitely check out her Adams meta).

For Thirteen, i think a lot of her time at school when she's younger is spent:

1) studying the other kids to mask and mimic their social behaviors, to try to fit in and make things easier (for her and her family, more on that in a sec);

and 2) when overstimulated, wanting to be left alone so she can read or be immersed in whatever she's working on (science project, art project, etc). she likes learning, she's curious. and I think as a child she wouldn't like being interrupted when she's deeply focused. she needs her space.

in my brain, I'm imagining that she knows she's Different even if she's not quite sure how; and she knows that she doesn't want to be another problem that dad (or brother) can't fix, so she decides she'll fix it herself. however, i don't think she fully realizes it's a problem until she gets comments from teachers about her behavior (examples of said behavior, from a post I did on Masking Thoughts: She sticks out at school, she's awkward, she's too loud or too quiet, or she can't handle things like lights and sounds and smells that the other kids don't seem to pay any attention to. Her teachers scold her when she doesn't have 'quiet hands' or when she 'can't keep her emotions under control'. It gets harder to make friends; the other kids don't talk to her much. She can act like them if she puts in the work, if she studies them hard enough and mimics and 'learns their language', so to speak; but she can't make herself be like them. No matter how hard she tries.)

In my mind's eye I see it happening as little seven year Remy being given a letter to take home to "her mom and dad" by her teacher. she opens it and reads it before she goes home that day, and it says something something concerns about your daughter being different something something social abnormalities, whatever words they wanted to use back then instead of saying people were neurodivergent. and i think that's when she gets it in her head that it's something about her that needs to be "fixed" and that SHE can "fix it". So she throws the letter away and her dad never hears about any of it. Which is extremely black and white thinking to me. And specifically she has this "fixing" thing in her brain because "dad can't fix mom, he doesn't need to feel like he can't fix anything else".

in high school I think she'd have learned to mask enough that i think she would have a small group of close friends, and a decent amount of acquaintances that she knows and gets along with but isn't close with. the only people that really know her are the 1-4 close friends she has at any given time (and it takes her a little bit to trust and let them in.) she'll hang out in a group if it's what everyone wants to do, but because of getting easily overstimulated and how exhausting masking is, I think she prefers small groups for sure. at get togethers or birthday parties i think she'd always break off and end up in a cluster with 2-3 others instead of being with the bigger main group.

i think when she's younger (like 14-15) she doesn't get why people want to go to school dances. she just stays home and enjoys a quiet evening. then when she's 16 (and for the rest of high school) she comes around a bit and learns to let go and enjoy; she agrees to go and has fun, but the second she's not enjoying it anymore or gets too overstimulated, she's outta there and figuring out a ride home lol

however despite her masking and mimicking others' social behavior to fit in, I don't think she would do any kind of drinking in high school at the parties she went to. i think she'd have too much anxiety about losing control (in the "i watched my mom lose control of her body" sense and the more general "control freak" sense as well).

hopefully you enjoy!! please always feel free to talk to me about autistic thirteen or ask for more thoughts on her. she is thee blorbo ever.

[forest-hashira]

Too Much

hi everybody! since today is our girl shinobu's birthday (in the states, at least!), i figured it was the perfect time to post this fic! it's my piece for @satorini's Share The Love gift exchange! the prompt i chose was "comforting an s/o during an autistic meltdown" and is for @redlikerozez, so red, i hope you enjoy this! i am also autistic, so i used my own experiences with meltdowns as the basis for this.

read on ao3 here | wc: ~1.5k | cw: gender neutral reader, shinobu is referred to as reader's girlfriend, descriptions of overstimulation, emotional hurt/comfort (sort of, very light)

It really was all just too much. 

Having completed your most recent mission, you had returned to corps headquarters, eager for both some rest and some time with your girlfriend, Shinobu. Though the two of you agreed to keep your relationship quiet and private, for the most part, it was far from a casual fling. You relied on each other for comfort and companionship, and spent as much of your time together as you could when you were both between missions. 

Exhaustion weighed heavily on you as you approached the butterfly mansion, and you barely managed not to topple over when you stopped in the genkan to remove your shoes. There was more commotion inside than usual, kakushi around to help the girls with butterfly hair pins that fluttered from room to room. Before you could call out to anyone, ask if Shinobu had returned from her own mission, Aoi spotted you swaying on your feet.

“Are you badly hurt?” she asked, and her no-nonsense demeanor helped to ground you a great deal in that moment.

It took a beat before you fully processed her words, but once you did, you shook your head. “No, just some scrapes and bruises.” The younger girl nodded, but before she could say anything else, you asked, “Is Kocho here?”

“She’s tending to patients at the moment,” Aoi said, then softened a bit; apparently your disappointment was more obvious than you hoped. “But as soon as I see her again, I’ll let her know you’ve arrived. I’ll take you to a room where you can rest.”

You nodded again, following after her on heavy feet. The further into the house you stepped, the louder every noise grew, and the more all of your senses sharpened unpleasantly: you could practically feel the soft footsteps of everyone else in the mansion on the inside of your skull; the snippets of conversation you caught sent your skin crawling; every time a door slid open or shut was like a loud clap right in your ears; even the smell of the place – clean and vaguely herbal – had your stomach twisting itself into knots. 

So lost in your own sensory displeasure, you didn’t notice when Aoi stopped walking, and you apologized after you bumped into her.

“Lay down for some rest” she encouraged, her brows pinched in concern. “I’ll inform Lady Kocho that you’re here.”

Unable to gather enough energy to properly answer the girl, you simply stepped into the room, climbing onto the nearest empty bed and collapsing onto your back, without even bothering to pull the blanket over yourself. 

Not for the first time, all traces of sleep dissolved from your brain and body as soon as your head hit the pillow, though your exhaustion remained, settled into the very marrow of your bones. You closed your eyes, hoping maybe you’d be able to get some rest while you waited for your girlfriend, even if you didn’t actually fall asleep. 

Unfortunately, though, closing your eyes did not make rest any easier; in fact, it only seemed to intensify all the sounds and smells that had already begun to grate on your nerves before you laid down. You decided to ignore it for now, focusing on your breathing, which you did your best to keep deep and even, but every inhale through your nose filled your head with more and more of the medicinal smell that had your stomach threatening to throw a fit. At the same time, every sound in the mansion seemed magnified, as if they were all happening right there in the room you’d been led to. Every breeze through an open window, every spoken exchange echoing in the halls, every cough or groan of pain from another patient, everything was working together to tip you over the edge, to overwhelm you in the worst way possible. 

It’s too much.

Grabbing the pillow from beneath your head, you turned onto your side, your back facing the door, and hugged the pillow to your chest. You buried your face in the pillow, hoping it would help tone down the smell, and while you did find some mild success with that, the fabric of the pillowcase had its own scent that was distinct enough that it only further fried your senses. The hand not clinging to the pillow came up to cover your ear, and without even realizing it, you curled even further in on yourself, your knees pressing as close to your chest as the pillow would allow. Despite how odd the position was, you started rocking back and forth ever so slightly, trying anything you could to self regulate, though it was not helping as much as you hoped, and it wasn’t long until tears were soaking into the pillow case, your thought racing a mile a minute. 

Too much, too much, too much.

The soft sound of your name pulled your attention slightly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. You were vaguely aware of the door to your room being shut, as carefully and quietly as possible, before footsteps approached your bed. 

“Can you open your eyes for me, flower?”

Shinobu, you thought, her familiar voice sending a wave of relief through your body. After a moment, you did manage to lift your face from where you had buried it in the pillow, your now-bloodshot eyes meeting her violet ones.

“There you are,” she greeted, a gentle smile on her face as she knelt at your bedside. “Feeling overwhelmed?”

You tensed slightly, then nodded, knowing logically that she wasn’t going to judge you for this – she never had in the past – but it didn’t make being seen in this vulnerable state any less anxiety-inducing. 

She nodded back. “Sounds?” she asked gently, and you nodded again. “Smells?” Another nod. “Textures?” This time you shook your head, thankful that, for once, the feeling of your slayer’s uniform on your skin wasn’t adding to your painfully overstimulated state. “Alright, I can work with that.”

Next thing you knew, the Insect Hashira was offering you a bloom you knew she must have just cut from the garden; after a moment longer, it registered that it was your favorite flower she was holding towards you.

“Deep breath,” she instructed quietly, breathing in slowly and deeply to give you an example to follow.

Breathing in the delicate scent of the blossom helped push away the unpleasant smells caught up in your head, and the slow, deep breaths your girlfriend guided you through helped some of the tension melt from your shoulders, and you were able to finally unclench your jaw.

“Very good,” Shinobu praised, her small smile returning as she set the cut bloom on the bedside table. “Is it okay to touch?”

You hesitated a moment, then shook your head; you still couldn’t quite find your words, but it wasn’t anything that your partner hadn’t worked through with you before.

“That’s okay. Can I put the pillow back under your head? I think you’ll be more comfortable that way.” She waited until she received a nod in response, and she stood, being very careful not to actually touch you as she coaxed the pillow from your arms, fluffed it briefly, then placed it back on the bed after you lifted your head a bit to give her the space to put it down. “Better?”

“Hmm,” was the only answer you could manage, but she could tell that you were already more relaxed than you had been when she had entered the room, so she felt assured that she was helping you like you needed. 

“Will you be alright if I leave for a moment to get you some tea?” The hashira watched you closely as she awaited an answer, and when you gave her yet another nod, she smiled, murmuring that she would be right back, then left the room, making sure the door slid open and shut again as silently as possible. 

For the brief amount of time she was gone, you managed to unfurl from your position on the bed and sit up properly, legs hanging over the edge as you stared down at the floor, eyes tracing patterns in the hardwood.

Before she opened the door, Shinobu knocked lightly and gently called your name, and she smiled when she saw you sitting up on your own. “Can I sit?” 

“Yes,” you said, patting the empty space beside you. When she lowered herself to sit on the bed, you smiled at her, murmuring a small thanks as she handed you a small cup of black tea, the rich scent helping further soothe your frayed senses. 

The pair of you sat in silence for a bit as you sipped on your drink, only about an inch of space between your bodies. You set the cup on the bedside table once you finished the tea, and as you settled back into your spot, you lightly rested your head on her shoulder. “Thank you, my butterfly,” you whispered, melting further into her when her slim fingers worked their way into your hair, her nails gently massaging your scalp.

“Anything for you, flower,” she whispered back, dropping a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. “Get some rest now, I’ve got you.”

This time when you closed your eyes, sleep was quick to welcome you.

i know this is a pretty big shift from what i've been posting here up to this point, but i'm excited to get back into demon slayer again! i hope you all enjoyed this one as much as you enjoy my other fics, and that you'll continue to read anything else i write for demon slayer in the future (*cough* roaring twenties tengen *cough*)

tagging: @redlikerozez @satorini @mitsuristoleme @kentohours @witchbybirth @marinnnnnnnnn

[madschiavelique]

Yandere migue you say 👀👀👀👀do elaborate bc that’s a conversation that needs to be had!!! In the meantime pls accept my thoughts on this man absolutely tearing it up ��👌🏻

(He would be 100% devoted to you but this man would NOT go easy on you😭, esp if you talk back and display any bratty behavior which gets all the gesrs in his head running bc he lives for that challenge, quite literally has you exhausted and almost passing out by the time he’s brought you to yet another peak. You forgot how many it had been. He started out with his fingers, unforgiving and determined to find all of your weak spots and manipulate them to bring you pleasure. Then he brought his mouth and tongue on you to get you all eased up, pliant and ready to take him (despite being mean and unforgiving he would never intentionally hurt you and he knows how uhhh 😬 challenging it can get taking him without prep so you can bet on it that he spends a generous time down there preparing you). You’re all sweaty, flushed, your entire body aching and buzzing deliciously from the pleasure as he blows another load in you. You’re so oversensitive your vision starts to blur, and the last things you can make out is him laying you down on the sheets, hovering above you as soft words of praise are spoken into the silence of the night. He strokes you all over, paying attention that his rough fingers are extra gentle on the bruises and bites he has left all over your body in the heat of the moment. If you had any energy left in you, you’d squirm away bc you’re so sensitive but all you can do is sigh and sink deeper into the sheets, the combination of his touch and sweet words lulling you into a deep sleep. He wouldn’t stop though, admiring the image of your sleeping form underneath him almost reverently, taking in every small detail about you now that he has you laying underneath him without trying to squirm away from his grip, acting all bratty as you so often liked to. He can’t believe he got so lucky to have you, you’re all his and he vows he’ll always take care of you. Sometimes he speaks out his mind, finding it much easier to be open about his feelings and emotions when you’re asleep. Often it’s just him gently cleaning you up and thinking about how beautiful you look all flushed and sweaty, his spend mixed with your juices leaking out of your puffy and red center. He’s growing hard in no time again, and can’t wait till you’re awake so he can continue where you two left off)

uhhhh yeah so that happened?? In short I need this man to dick me down and put me in my place but also love me so tenderly when I’m not looking 😩🤌🏻

JUST READ THIS WITH MY LITTLE CUP OF TEA IN HAND AND I WAS JUST GASPING ALL THE WAY

so first of all : my sincere reaction

and second of all :

this man handles attitudes intensely, very firmly, and very imply put : if you search him you'll find him, but he will be the one coming for you. he would overstimulate you to the point where you're crying and mutter how you can't give him another orgasm

"weren't you the one asking for it ? hum ? I warned you that I was going to give it to you if you kept acting like that."

the man studied you fully, knowing exactly where to touch, where to lick, and he would make you unable to think properly with just his fingers. he doesn't care if he can't fuck you properly right now, because he wants to make a statement that he's got you wrapped around his fingers (quite literally) and that in any case "do you really think you have a choice ?"

it's only once you're a whimpering mess that can't think straight that he finally fucks you, and you feel like you're split in half by how big he is. no matter how many times he fucks you, you never get used to his width and length, and how good this single feeling is. he hits all the right places within you, sometimes pressing his finger in your navel to make his fingers and his dick connect, and you make such pretty moans when he does that that he does it from time to time. he will undoubtedly grab your face in his hand to properly see your eyes as he fucks you until you're brain dead, his red eyes looking at you in an almost predator way

he will bite you, mark your entire body with his lips and mouth so that you never forget how you're his, and so that everybody knows you belong to him. and after 3 more orgasms with him inside you, you'd collapse completely, your eyes closing on themselves as the overstimulation made everything turn blurry

when waking up, he'd be sat by your side. his hand would come caress your cheeks softly, travelling over each and every mark he had left like the stars of a constellations in the pure and silent sky of the night. you sigh, his single touch so soft it's like feeling clouds on your skin

"you look ethereal, muñeca"

you were his, his beautiful princess in a tower he'd built around for your own protection. he would do anything for you, if he had wounded even one of your hairs, he would have contemplated death.

would you ever even comprehend an ounce of his affection, of his love for you ? you were the only thing he ever wished for, ever cared about. he would've preferred to have been born as a part of you, so that he could've stayed with you forever. you were the best part of him, and he wondered what he had done to deserve such a beautiful lover

[nifedick]

On the other side of this, once you recognize in yourself the things that make you snappy and bitey, it may be easier to recognize that in other people! It can feel hurtful when someone you love is short with you or comes home in a flurry of annoyance. But recognizing that they are probably hungry/exhausted/overstimulated much like you can find yourself, can help you realize that their need for you to get out of their way/have some quiet time is not personal, but driven out of emotional and physical needs.

Spicy-brained friends, I would like to propose an update to the very useful ‘if you hate everyone, eat, if everyone hates you, sleep, and if you hate yourself, shower’ mantra to live by

Have you suddenly become a petty, hateful little gremlin who thinks people should face the firing squad for (checks notes) leaving teabags on the counter, breathing loudly, or daring to exist in the same space as you? Perhaps mundane and reasonable requests like ‘hey, we agreed to hang out now, let’s hang out’ make you want to scream and move to a yurt in the woods.

You. Are. Overstimulated.

People talk a lot about being overstimulated, and the physical/mental effects of it. What I haven’t seen is people talking about what it does emotionally, and it took me an embarassingly long time to link up those nitpicky, resentful emotions with the state of overstimulation/meltdown/shutdown.

These feelings do not mean that you’re a bad person! They probably aren’t how you actually feel about the people around you. They probably do mean that your nervous system is at its absolute limit and any request/demand/stimulus is Too Much and taking you into fight or flight territory.

Go lie down in a dark room for an hour, or find somewhere safe and familiar to stim for a bit. If it’s happening a lot, schedule yourself regular low-stimulation shutdown time

Signed: someone who moved in with their nearest and dearest only to have a massive crisis of faith about Suddenly Hating All of Them. I don’t hate them, it’s just overstimulating living with people. If I can spare anyone else a similar 9 months of suspecting that they may actually be a bit of a shit person, then this post is worth it!

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Wolfish

warnings: unprotected sex(i literally write nothing else unless asked otherwise), feral chan, oral(f receiving), breeding kink cuz im gross, slight impreg kink for the same reason, overstimulation, mind breaking (kinda mutal), slapping(once and chan receives it), desperate overall kinda sex, squirting, mention of the title daddy once, few pet names, lots of filth pretty much, reader refers to him as ‘chris’ in speech

summary: schedule has been crazy and chan hasn’t been able to see you as much as he’d like to. it’s starting to get to him. all that changes when he decides to leave practice early and finds you in the dorm parading around in just his t-shirt.

chan x female reader

word count: 6.3k (i got carried away)

Chan was exhausted. For more reasons than one. Schedules were rolling into one another with no real sign of stopping. Practices seemed to last longer than usual, dragging to a point where he could feel every second ticking by. His internal thought was wracked with melodies, lyrics, and rhythms bouncing off the walls of his skull leaving him with no semblance of peace. To complete the myriad of his stress masterpiece, he was missing you. 

It was nearing three weeks of minimal contact with you and he was beginning to feel guilty in addition to everything else he was feeling. Every moment he had a chance to glance at his phone, it would be ripped from him just as quickly—the text that he was typing dying at his fingertips. 

You understood what you were agreeing to when you decided to not only let Chan into your life but to let him in as your partner. You didn’t mind these long stretches of time where you didn’t get to see him. In fact, you almost preferred it. Allowing you to really indulge in the time you got to spend with him with nary an interruption. No matter how many times you reminded him of this, it still ate away at his emotions. Making him feel like this was yet another area in his life where he felt his promises were not being fulfilled, ultimately making him feel less than.

You had flown out to Seoul in an attempt to surprise him and hopefully pick up his spirits, but with all the craziness of upcoming schedules you, unfortunately, came at a time where you didn’t get to see him as often as you thought. You understood though. Not holding it against him. Chan also more than appreciated being able to nestle up to your body when he finally trucked into the dorms early in the morning finding it easier to sleep with you near him. He felt an unspoken comfort with you around that he needed more than he realized.

With a five hour dance practice finally wrapping up, Chan moved in silence. Grabbing his belongings he came to the conclusion that he needed a bit of a break. A moment to decompress from everything. Letting out a sigh he turned back around to the boys informing them of his next moves.

“So…I was going to go to the studio after we were finished here, but I think I need a break honestly. It’s all a little bit too much right now.”

Everyone went a bit silent, feeling the tense energy radiating off of him. Felix took the opportunity to offer a hand recognizing that Chan was in a funk, in a feeble attempt to ask if he was okay.

“You sure you’re good, man? Like you don’t need anything from us?”

Not wanting to pry too much knowing how his emotions could fire up from nowhere, he was trying his best to keep it open ended.

“Yeah. I just prolly need to sleep or something.”

“Okay. If anything we’re here for you. And I’m sure Y/N will be more than willing to help you with anything you need.”

He knew Felix meant well, but it just struck a nerve in him that ultimately made him feel worse. Feeling like even when he was supposed to enjoy spending time with you, you were always snubbed to “taking care” of him when it should’ve been the other way around. Sighing, Chan closed his eyes and nodded.

“Yeah–alright, I’ll see you guys back at the dorm later.”

With quiet goodbyes, Chan left the practice room and walked towards the exit of the JYP building where someone would be waiting to take the boys home when needed. No questions were asked as he looked at the driver silently signaling that he was in need of being taken back to the dorms. The ride back was even more silent. Every self deprecating and stressful thought ran through his mind like a traumatic PowerPoint stuck on a loop. The buildings passing by were just distant figures in his vision no matter how close they actually were.

The car finally came to a stop and Chan lowly thanked the driver before getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of the dorms. He didn’t realize he took the stairs until he was already halfway up to the floor he was supposed to be on. Laughing through his nose he shook his head.

“I can’t even pay attention to where I’m going, my gosh.”

Reaching the floor he was supposed to be on, he opened the door and walked down the hallway to the dorm. Approaching the front door, he could hear music playing inside and a small smile designed his face, wondering what it was you were doing on the other side. Opening the door, he entered and kicked his shoes off immediately. The confines of his shoes adding to his irritation unknowingly. He dropped his bag at the front door as well, not wanting to be bothered with dragging it to his bedroom.

Turning the corner he was acquainted with you in your own little world dancing to the music playing from a speaker that was perched on the island of the kitchen. His smile slowly faded into something a little more lustful when your figure moved from behind the island, showing that you were wearing nothing but one of his shirts and some underwear. He walked up to you and slipped his hands around your torso, his hands connecting over your tummy.

It startled you, to say the least, but only for a quick second before you settled into his touch recognizing it was him.

“Chris! You scared the shit outta me. What are you doing home so early? Where are the rest of the boys?”

Chan just hummed not answering you right away, swaying you against him. You rested your hands on top of his and tried to turn your head to see him resting his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t get the look at him that you wanted, so you tried to move to turn around and look at him, but Chan just held your body tighter and closer to him. 

“Don’t move, I’ll tell you in a second.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling concerned with how his mannerisms were. Before if you could ask if he was okay he inhaled to speak.

“Just…really tired. Schedules and all that and I also kinda feel like a bad boyfriend.”

Hearing that, you just couldn’t stay in the position he was trying so desperately to keep you in. You turned around and cupped his face to bring it up to face your own. As quickly as you turned around, he dropped his head not ready to face you. You moved your head to look at him but he was refusing.

“Chris…where’s all this coming from? How are you being a bad boyfriend?”

He sighed, taking another long silence before he spoke.

“Ch-”

“-I’m never around. And, you came to see me and you can’t see me because I’m literally never here. And when you do see me I feel like, you feel like you just have to take care of me and I can’t help but feel like an ass for that.”

“Chris, c’mon. You know I’d never feel that way.”

“See! Like that. I know what you're gonna say next and it just doesn’t make it any better because I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

Dropping your hands you dropped your head as well, having a hunch where you could tell where this was going.

“Chris, I knew what I was getting into from jump when I said yes to being yours. And it’s my fault for not telling you I was gonna come out here. You had so much going on that you didn’t mention it and that’s okay! I’m not upset about any of that let alone upset with you. Stop beating yourself up.”

He stepped away, running his hand through his hair.

“You’re missing the point.”

You furrowed your brow and grabbed your phone off the counter to lower the volume of the music. 

“What point am I missing exactly?”

“That you deserve better than me and I need to do better and you-”

“-Hold on, stop right there because you’re already off track.”

“No! You’re not hearing me Y/N.”

The last thing you expected was for him to get loud. You knew Chan didn’t regulate his emotions as he should, but you didn’t think he would take them out on you. You pressed your lips together and slowly it formed into a frown. You knew he didn’t mean it but nonetheless, it left a sour taste in your mouth. Chan was standing with his hand over his eyes, seemingly even more stressed than when he came in and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. 

“I’m gonna just, give you a moment and let this kinda settle because I know how you can get.”

You turned to walk out of the kitchen and began to walk towards his bedroom to wait for him. But before you could even make it out of the kitchen, Chan’s hand wrapped around your wrist, halting you in your tracks. His breath was heavy like he was trying to calm a panic attack and his eyes were blown.

“Don’t. Don’t walk away right now. Please.”

“Chris, the last thing I want right now is to add to your stress so I think it’s-”

“Y/N!, No it’s not what’s best right now! I need you and you’re trying to walk away from me. What aren’t you getting from that.”

Now you were looking at him as if he was mad. You had never seen him act out in such a way and especially with you. It left you confused and moreover concerned for him. But now you were on track with getting annoyed. He was leaving you with little explanation expecting you to just understand verbatim what he needed without telling you. Any time you tried to speak he cut you off and was actively creating more conflict. 

“Chris. I don’t want us to do this right now.”

You tried to step away again but your body ended up pressed against the counter. Chan’s body pressed so closely into yours it was almost like he was trying to become one with you. His brows furrowed and he dropped his head again, his breathing picking up once more.

“I. Need. You.”

You were unsure of where to step. He was unhinging himself by the second. Leaving you stuck in a hard place on what to do next. He was getting closer to you, pushing himself closer.

“Chris, I don’t know what you need from me unless you tell–why are you hard right now?”

He was almost grinding into you now. His head dipped into your neck again except now there was a different feeling attached to it. He dragged his nose up your neck landing underneath your ear. Biting lightly at your earlobe, his hands moved to your hips gripping at your flesh trying to bring you even closer.

“You smell so good, baby.”

Your breathing began to quicken in response to this change of behavior. Your body reacting a lot more quickly than your brain would allow you to comprehend.

“Wearing just my shirt, what if it wasn’t me that came home early, huh?”

Chan backed up so he could stare at you, trying to read just your expression.

“I-I, you guys have normally been home really late so I just didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

“You just wanna show yourself off to them?”

“Nono not at all I just-”

Before you had the chance to explain your case, Chan’s large hands trailed down to your ass, squeezing at the fat. A small moan choked out of you surprised at the action.

“You don’t understand how much I need you, do you?”

Panting, anticipation running through your veins, you looked up into his eyes.

“Why don’t you show me?”

Any control he had left in him, completely dissipated in just five words. Everything that was too hard for him to verbalize no longer had the capacity to stress him out. Your consent finding the perfect way to let him express himself without something to dwell on. His mouth landed on yours, a certain kind of anguish running through the kiss. His hands were all over you. Trying to grab at every inch he could.

You kissed him back with equal intensity. The irritation you previously felt was soon gone as he stopped trying to haphazardly explain his needs to you. He lifted you up onto the counter, placing himself between your legs. Rolling his hips into yours, you could feel his need attempting to break through the cotton of his shorts which sent a heartbeat straight to your core. You could feel him smirk against you as he felt you clench against him, your underwear providing you with little decency to hide. 

“Oh, seems like somebody is a little needy too.”

“Chris, I…”

You didn’t know what came over you but you felt that what you were about to offer would solve what he was feeling at such an overwhelming capacity. You rolled your hips against him, desperate for some type of friction. Looking at him you made sure that he could see the sincerity in your eyes. 

“Use me. Whatever it is that you’re feeling right now, take it out on me. We’ll talk about it later.”

Chan pulled away from you and the Chan you’d become accustomed to made a quick visit, searching your eyes for any hesitation. When he couldn’t find any he spoke wanting every form of confirmation.

“Are you sure? Once I let go I don’t think I can hold back.”

You nodded quickly, wanting nothing more than to have him ruin you in whatever way he was imagining. 

“I can take it.”

Verifying your words, Chan picked you up and carried you to his room. Laying you on his bed he hovered over you gazing down at your body. 

“You have, no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Licking your lips you found his eyes

“I’m sure you can show me better than you can tell me, baby.”

His sexual appetite was ravenous and it was more than he could handle. Chan felt as if he was gonna bust at his seams and staring at your body in his shirt made him feel all the more manic. He moved his body down toward the foot of the bed and stared up at you from the apex of your legs. Your scent dripping through the fabric of your underwear. 

“Look at you. Already soaking through your panties for me.”

You whined out, slightly embarrassed by his observation. He had barely done anything and yet everything he did made you feel so enticed and bound to him. 

He brought his hands up to the lining of your underwear and slowly dragged them down your legs, letting them hit the floor. He kissed up your legs ending his travels at the fat of your thighs. Sucking small hickies into your tender skin. 

You moaned out, the sensation of the hickey in that area making you clench a little tighter than you had before. Chan chuckled and noticed the way your body was already beginning to squirm under his touch. Bringing his face closer to your heat, he finally licked a fat stripe up your lips. Your walls clenching uncontrollably at the wanted touch. 

Chan moved his tongue in a way that had you on the brink of orgasm faster than you ever had before. He bounced back between sucking lightly on your clit and circling his tongue around it to break up the intensity. He could tell by the way your breathing changed that you were approaching your climax. Wanting to see you fall apart underneath him, he brought his hand up to tease at your entrance. Prodding just the tip of his fingers inside. 

Your hand made way to his curls. Scrunching at his hair in an attempt to ground yourself from your impending euphoria. He moaned against your pussy, the extra stimulation causing you to clench around nothing yet again. Chan’s fingers finally found their way inside your soaking hole and a loud moan escaped your throat. Unable to control the reaction of how it felt.

Chan moved his fingers in a come hither motion, rubbing at that special little spongy spot inside of you. 

“C’mon baby, cum for me. I can feel you’re almost there.”

His fingers began moving a little faster to be in tandem with his tongue. The double stimulation had you soaring over your inhibitions and you came around his fingers. Squeezing around him uncontrollably. It felt so undeniably good. It had been so long since you two had a moment to have this and he was relishing in it. 

Watching you fall apart in front of him, he wanted nothing more than to see it again. On the come down of your high, his tongue began moving around your clit again. 

“Shit, shit, Chris!” 

He lapped at your arousal, your juices coating his chin. 

“C’mon Y/N, baby. One more. For me?” 

Your back arched from the bed, his tongue sending you tunneling into your pleasure. 

“Fuck, Chris, I’m cumming! 

All he did was moan into you, the vibrations sending you into your second orgasm. The overstimulation hitting you a little harder than usual. When Chan lifted his head up, you watched a bead of wetness fall from his chin. 

“I’m going to make you do that, every fuckin time now. So fuckin sexy.”

You were almost too fucked out to comprehend what he was talking about until you felt a coolness stick to your inner thigh. Your eyes widened in horror. Coming to terms that you just squirted on his face. Panting, you finally found the breath to say something.  

“Holy shit. I did not just do that.” 

“Sure did. Kinda wanna see if I can make you do it again.”

Chan smiled as he dragged his finger up your folds, causing your body to jolt at the stimulation of his finger running across your clit. Your body was covered in goosebumps.  Anticipating his next move. Trying to sit up, you wanted to return the favor, but Chan bound your wrists in his hands pinning you back down to the bed. 

“Nuh uh babygirl. As much as I wanna watch your lips wrap around my cock, I won’t make it.” 

Chan crawled back up to you so you could be face to face with him. 

“And as much as I love you in my clothes…I wanna see all of you while I make you mine. Over and over again. 

His hands pawed up your body and removed you from his shirt. His head came down to leave a trail of kisses starting from your stomach and ending their journey at your nipples. Sucking at your supple flesh, he kneaded your other breast in his hand. You moaned out, back arching slightly as you rubbed your head into the pillow beneath you. You felt so small beneath him. His energy was massive and brooding. He was domineering but still, when you looked into his eyes you could see the softness swirling somewhere beneath it all. 

Your hands found their way back into his hair, gripping at his locks as you rolled your hips up into his painfully hard cock. With each roll, you could feel his cock twitching behind the cotton of his pants. 

“Take it off, baby. For me.”

Your hand trailed down to his pants rubbing over the fabric to play with his cock. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he wiggled out of his pants and threw his shirt somewhere in the room. His hands roamed up your sides again, making you feel smaller than you were. He was eating you alive with just his eyes. Devouring you in every way fathomable before even thinking of entering you. 

He kissed you, with a yearning you hadn’t felt from him before. It was rough yet gentle. Giving and taking all in the same breath. He was grabbing at you like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His hands traveled down to your hips and lifted your lower body up just a bit before worming his way in between your legs.

You moved your hand to stroke his cock earning a loud groan to expel from his throat. He hissed as you played with the head, thumbing over his painfully sensitive slit. Taking his hand to wrap around your wrist, he brought your hands up to your head pinning you to the bed again. He took the tip of his cock and rubbed it back and forth between your folds, teasing you. He wanted you to whine out for him. So he could hear that you needed him just as much as he needed you. 

“Chris, please. Don’t tease me like this.” 

He halted his movements, a smirk spreading across his face.

“I thought you said I could do whatever I wanted. Use you, is how I think you put it.”

An airy laugh left him as you whined out against him, trying to get a tiny moment of friction just to satisfy the ache you were feeling. 

“Use me then, don’t tease me. I need you. I need you inside of me. Want you to ruin me.”

Your voice trailed into something softer as you began to hear yourself and felt a little flustered from it all. You were so desperate for him and he didn’t even have to ask. You were feeding his current ego sending even more blood rushing to his cock. 

“Didn’t even have to ask you to beg. You need me that bad?”

“Yes! Yes, I need you that bad. Please, please stop teasing me and just fuck me already.”

He chuckled. Almost sinister.

“You want me to fuck you, yeah?”

Pushing his tip into your entrance, your breathing picked up and squeezed around him. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re gonna squeeze me out clenching that hard.”

“Please, Chris. It’s been so long.”

Your eyes were pleading. Your body was suddenly hyper aware of how long it had been since you two had been intimate with each other. Your neediness was becoming unbearable. You needed him and he was having too much fun making you squirm. You tried to push yourself onto him further, which prompted Chan to grab your hips and keep you still. 

“Don’t even try it.”

Before you got the chance to respond, Chan sheathed himself fully inside you. The thickness of his cock filling you up deliciously. It had been so long since he was inside you, it feel like he got bigger. His cock was so hard and was filling you up so well. 

“Fuck, you feel so much bigger, baby. Fill me up so well.”

Chan’s head dropped into your neck, rolling his cock in and out of you agonizingly slow. You could feel each ridge of his dick and his groans were so close to your ear that your body just shivered and clenched around me. 

“Chris, fuck. Please move faster. I can’t take this.”

His eyes blew wide as he looked down at you. An animalistic gaze glossing over his pupils. His breath, heavy and his hands squeezing at your body. 

“Want me to move faster, huh? Want me to fuck you dumb is that what you want?”

“Fuck, yes! Please. Please use me however you want fuck. I just need you to m~ah!

Thus began the beating of your precious little cunt at his mercy. He was drilling into you and he brought his hands under your lower back angling your body to hit every spot possible. His pace was erratic and his skin was beginning to become sticky. His tip barreling at your cervix with each thrust, your back was arched so far away from the bed.

Moans were in tandem with each other, being the only real communication now. Bring your body to become friendly with the bed beneath you again, your hands planted themselves into Chan’s back dragging down his skin, needed something to cling on to keep you grounded. 

It felt so good and with the inconsistency of his thrusts, you could tell he was getting close. 

“Fuck, Y/N. Cum with me. I need you to cum with me.” 

You squeezed around him, his words bringing you closer to your peak than you thought.

“'m gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna make you mine~fuck!”

He picked up the speed and within a blink, you felt his warm seed spread inside of you. You convulsed around him, the feeling of his cum inside of you sending you over your edge. 

“Fuckin shit Y/N. Fuck that felt so good.”

He was panting and so were you, but you needed more. You brought yourself up to your elbows and then moved yourself up enough to be able to turn the both of you over so that you were on top now. His eyes became a little wide, trying to understand what it was you were doing. 

“Y/N, baby you gotta give me a little bit o-”

You cut him off as you sank down on his cock, beginning to overstimulate him.

“I need more of you, Chris. I need so much of you, fuck!”

 You rode him like you never had before. You were beyond desperate, chasing your fourth release of the night. His cock was hitting all new angles and made you feel even more full than you did moments prior. You were overstimulating him and his moans were doing nothing but stirring you on. As you bounced on him, the mixture of both of your arousals was dripping down his cock and pooling near his pelvis. 

His moans were getting louder and louder, letting you know that he was getting close. For a moment you felt the power roles shift. And for just that moment you wanted to relish in it. Running your hand down his chest, you ran over his nipple before bringing your hand up to rest on his collarbone deciding your next move. 

“Aww, look at you being taken care of. Bet you like this don’t you?”

Chan looked up and groaned at you, not really indulging in what you were saying as the mind fucked atmosphere shared between the two of you was beginning to cloud his mind. You don’t know where it came from, but as quick as the idea came, it went. You brought your hand back into the air, only to have it land across his cheek the sound sending shock waves to your previous confidence. 

“I asked you a question.”

Chan smiled with his tongue in his cheek, amused by your little number. 

“You think you’re cute don’t you?”

Submissive nature found its way back into you, the demeanor Chan was radiating sent you back to its familiar nature. 

“I asked you a question Y/N…what’s the matter?” You panicked internally, knowing you just fucked up royally and that you were about to get your ass handed to you. His hands grabbed at the fat of your thighs, crippling any dominance that was lingering in you. His eyes were near black, his pupils dilated so far that the color of his iris was something only your memory could provide. 

“You’re brave, I’ll give you that. And I won’t lie, I liked it. But I think you need a bit of a reminder of who’s in charge.”

 In an instant, Chan had taken your body and flipped you on your hands and knees. He was rougher than he had been all night. Carnality his only motive. He grabbed your hips again to position you how he wanted. He was stalking behind you and every breath he took landed back on your neck, sending shivers down your skin. Impatient and anxious of what he was planning next. 

His large hand trailed down your back until he laced it in your hair gripping at the root to control your body to his liking. You moved with him, finding yourself being pressed against his chest. Chan rested his chin on your shoulder and nibbled at your earlobe, the sensation causing you to push back into him and feel his cock standing on edge again. 

“I’m going to fuck you now in a way that will ruin you for anybody else. Understand?”

Not putting any faith in your voice, you nodded as best you could with Chan’s grip on your hair.

“Y/N…words.”

“Yes, yes I understand.”

You pushed your hips down again trying to feel something. Surprisingly Chan reciprocated, thrusting his cock between your thighs, slightly grazing in between your folds. You whined out needing him to be inside of you again.

“Chris, please fuck me.”

“Okay princess, but only because you said please.”

His tone was condescending and it sent a new kind of excitement rushing to your core. Chan let go of his tight grip on your hair and let you fall forward back onto the bed. He lined himself up with your entrance not wasting any time with teasing which you were silently thanking him for.

He always filled you up so nicely. No matter how many times you had him, the feeling of him sliding in and bottoming out always felt as good as the first time. You were too gone to care about how you sounded, your moans overpowering his as he fully slipped himself into you. 

The pace he was setting was unrelenting and feral. Pounding himself so that your cunt would mold perfectly to the shape of him. His hand found itself in your hair again but instead of pulling you up he was smushing your face into the sheets beneath you. 

“Who’s pussy is this, huh?”

You whimpered and squeezed around him, not prepared for him to start talking. Displeased with your silence he asked again, punctuating each word with a thrust that was harder than the last. 

“Answer. Me. Who’s. Pussy. Is. This?”

You screamed out, the stimulation becoming almost too much. 

“Fuck! It’s yours! It’s your pussy, Chris.”

Tears were beginning to well in your eyes and fall across your nose, melting into the bed sheets. Without warning, Chan pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back. The lack of his cock inside of you pulled whines out of you. Your tears fell a little more rapidly as you were so close to another orgasm and it was just stolen from you. Chan moved the hair from your face and stared down at you. He reentered you and your back arched, any stimulation bringing you so close to your edge. An arrogant smile decorated his mouth as he saw your tear stains and wet lashes. 

“Aww, is it too much for your little pussy, baby? Need me to stop?”

“Nonono. N-need your c-cock. Please, daddy. Please.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me”

A rigid pace attacked your flowery cunt, overstimulating you immediately. Chan’s thumb found your delicate clit and started to rub soft circles. You moaned out loudly, your throat feeling hoarse from all the damage you were inflicting on it. You grabbed at the sheets, Chan’s back, anything you could to keep you on the bed. It was too much. It felt too good. 

“Look at my pretty baby. Can’t even take all of me anymore. Crying all over my cock. Gonna cum soon baby?”

You nodded and whimpered out a small yes trying to focus on every sensation that was ripping through you at this moment.

“Where do you want me, baby?”

You opened your eyes, staring at him showing how desperate you really were.

“I-inside. Inside me.”

Chan groaned out and picked up the pace of his thrusts. The thought of him cumming inside of you always bringing him right to the precipice of ecstasy. 

“Yeah, want me to fill you up till you can’t take any more of me? Till I’m spilling out of you.”

You clenched around him so hard you were almost pushing him out of you. His words amplified everything you were feeling.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

Chan was beginning to feel the mind fog of sex again and he was saying anything that came to mind. Unlocking doors for you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Want me to fill you up and make you a fuckin mommy, huh?”

Your eyes blew wide before they rolled back immersing you completely in the pleasure you were feeling. 

“Chris, fuck fuck fuck, I’m gonna cum again! Fill me up again. Wanna feel all of you~ah!”

“Fuck Y/N. Take it. Take it all.”

Chan’s hand came up to your throat pressing on the pressure points just enough to bring you to the brink of your arousal. With one more roll of his thumb, you were squeezing and gushing around him. 

“Fucking shit! Chris!”

His name became a mantra. Something that reminded you that this was real and not a dream. You were really being demolished like this by him. Both of your moans echoed off the walls of his bedroom, making a cacophony of sounds for anyone on the outside to catch. Chan’s thrusts almost transformed into scoops as he blew his seed inside your velvet walls one last time. Making sure that none of it had the chance to escape.

With nothing but heavy breathing and sweat being shared between you two, Chan’s body collapsed onto yours, his head nestling into your neck. Finding the strength to get off of you, he pulled out of you as well. Looking down at your swollen pussy, his cum was leaking out a bit, to which he took two of his fingers to push it back inside of you.

Your body jerked. Completely overstimulated. You shuddered and squeezed around his fingers before he took them out completely.

“Sorry.”

An airy chuckle followed his words as he laid down next to you. Popping back up as he had a thought.

“Wait, lemme go grab something.”

You were too fucked out to respond and honestly were still trying to catch your breath. You closed your eyes, a small smile spreading across your face. Your eyes opened again when you felt Chan’s hand on your leg trying to move them to open a bit more. You saw he had a warm, wet cloth in his hand and opened your legs the rest of the way so he could clean you up. You grimaced at the feeling, still sensitive from all the damage just bestowed on you.

Chan looked up as he heard a small hiss come from you, a small frown starting to take shape on his own face. Finishing the preliminary cleanup, he tossed the rag towards the hamper in his room and he laid back next to you.

“Was I too much? I’m so sorry if it was”

You slowly turned your head, trying to silently let Chan know to not start rambling. You spoke before he could again, in hopes to calm his worries before more could arise. 

“Chris, if it was ever too much I would’ve told you. Think that was the best sex we’ve had in a long time.”

“Really? You’re okay?”

“Look, if that’s what being stressed does to you, by all means, use me whenever because god damn. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that before.”

“Okay, as long as you’re okay then I’m alright.”

You turned over to face him and draw shapes onto his chest. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I love how we normally are. But that here and there…” 

You trailed off, whistling to end your sentence instead of using words. Chan smiled lightly, moving his hand down to find yours and lace your fingers with his.

“And what was that about making me a mommy?” It was so easy to tease him now, seeing that Chan was starting to relax. Instantly his ears went red and he tried to cover his face.

“Gosh, don’t repeat it back to me.” 

“You’re the one that said it!” 

You both laughed letting the topic fade into the air not wanting to push much further.

“I mean, one day I’d like to.”

You smiled as you looked up at him.

“That would be nice. Not now obviously, but sometime in the future.”

Silence fell over you. You knew he was holding back verbally about how he was feeling and you wanted to make sure that he was alright in full. You squeezed his hand to grab his focus.

“You ready to talk about everything? Or are you still on edge about it?”

He sighed, knowing that there was no way you were gonna let him get away without speaking about his feelings. Even when he thought he could, you always found a way to pull it out of him. 

“Yeah…yeah, I guess I should talk about it.”

You thought for a moment.

“Why don’t we run a bath and you can tell me everything while we’re in there. We’ll clean up and have a therapy session all in one.”

You pointed at your head as if you just discovered the most mind-blowing idea. Chan chuckled as he nodded along. 

“Sounds like a good idea.”

You both got up from the bed and began to gather what you would need after getting out the bath. Before you even choose a set of clothes to put on you heard a voice echo through the dorm that you recognized as Changbin’s.

“Whenever you guys are done fucking, we’re thinking of going to get dinner.”

You both looked at each other, horror and embarrassment filling your faces. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. You closed it and then opened it again, finding your words.

“I hope they didn’t hear all that.”

Chan raised his hands in defeat.

“Let’s just not think or ask about it.”

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

a/n: hope whoever comes across this enjoys it. i had fun writing it! as always requests or asks are currently open :)

[flowerslut]

Déjà-rêvé

Summary: It's nothing Alice had ever seen. It was no vision, no dream. It was only a possibility that had haunted the back of her mind like a nightmare for as long as she'd known what there was out there for her to fear. Jasper had never known about this fear until it became their reality.

Post-Breaking Dawn. An 'Alice loses her power' AU.

Title: Déjà-rêvé Words: 6,551 Rating: T for language Read on: AO3 // or under the cut Listen to the playlist on Spotify here.

A/N: Hey @yoomiii123! I got you for this year's @twilight-secret-gift-exchange! I present to you, a playlist and a fic! (And a mood board, technically.) Hope you enjoy this angsty little hurt/comfort one-shot, and I hope it holds you over until I can get a nice long (awful, miserable, dramatic) post-BD fic cranked out. 🤪

Sometimes, Jasper tried to imagine life without his pathokinesis.

Then, he would stop, and move on from the idea.

He’d never been one to think about ‘what-if’ or dwell on things that haven’t happened, or things that would (likely) never happen. He’d only entertained the thought a few times, and he’d come to a simple conclusion:

It would be a calmer existence. Quiet, even. Not in the sense that there would be less auditory stimuli for him to process. It was a different type of noise that he experienced when it came to sensing emotion. It wasn’t noise in a literal sense—it was more like a physical feeling, the way the sun warmed skin or how movement pushed against wind—but ‘noise’ was the best word he had to use. He didn’t hear anything.

But even Edward—who did hear with his gift—had agreed it was the most accurate way to describe what Jasper experienced when it came to other people’s emotions. It had always been a tricky thing to explain.

It was a trickier thing to handle.

There had been a point in time—a small few points, sparsed throughout his two centuries of immortality—where he’d wished for something different.

It was not that he didn’t want his gift in its entirety (although there had been a time or three where that very thought had crossed his mind) but he had craved more control over it. Jasper had desperately wanted more of the good and less of the bad.

Good. Bad. Noise. It was irritating to not have better words to describe these things, but Jasper used the ones that made the most sense to other people. Even if the descriptions felt like a childish commentary on something that was as far from the realm of the casual lived emotional experience as you could feasibly get.

The good part was the control it gave him over his surroundings. What was good was the way contentment and calm and joy were so much easier for him to obtain. The feelings were things he took without guilt or shame or a second thought. A symbiosis where he grasped at the bliss around him, plucked it from the air, and soothed himself with it. Sometimes he even amplified the feelings, letting those around him also access the relaxation he oftentimes indulged in.

God, he didn’t know what he would be like if he couldn’t do that. He didn’t like to think about it.

The bad part was the overstimulation. The exhaustion. The pain. He tried hard not to think too hard about the years he’d spent angry, depressed, and drained. When it hadn’t been the fighting it had been the hunt, and when it hadn’t been the hunt it had been the solitude. The desperate crushing loneliness that had dug its talons into his post-hunt depression just to sink him deeper into the muck of his mind.

It had been a sensation so suffocating, toward the end, that he’d even entertained returning to Monterrey a few times after he’d departed from Peter and Charlotte’s side.

Thinking about them made a soreness in his ribs pulse and then ache. He couldn’t think about them now. It had only been a few months and he hadn’t had time to mourn them, let alone to face the fact that they were both gone.

Jasper still couldn’t process it. He couldn’t let himself get lost in those emotions. Not yet, at least.

Not when Alice still needed him so badly. 

Jasper could see her from where he stood in the kitchen, glancing through the glass back door and toward the pristine deck where Alice was curled up on one of the slate-grey cushioned sofas. He could only see her legs from there. Her feet were bare and a little dirty and the way the fabric of her leggings bunched up around her ankle made him wonder whose clothes she was wearing right now. Nothing Alice owned would’ve fit her so ill.

Jasper fought a sigh and finally looked back down toward his cell phone, still clasped in his left hand, the screen black.

His conversation with Edward hadn’t been a long one. Just long enough for him to update Jasper on the current state of affairs. It seemed that one of the representatives from Bishkek had decided to be a cooperative presence just in time for Amun to start butting heads with one of the coven leaders from Algeria.

They still hadn’t yet gotten a hold of Stefan nor Vladmir and the more time that passed the more certain they grew that perhaps they’d somehow been killed before the Volturi had come after the Cullens.

Unfortunately, Alice couldn’t help them answer that question.

It had been Emmett that reminded everyone that as long as Marcus and the wives lived, it was likely they’d stay away even if they were alive. The men from the defunct Romanian coven would sooner burn all of Italy to the ground than cooperate with any remnants of the coven that had decimated their former empire.

At least Amun was being somewhat cooperative.

Jasper thought that Carlisle was in over his head. It wasn’t until Edward informed him, half of a laugh on his voice, “if you don’t think Rosalie is behind most of the things he’s doing and saying, you’ve misjudged her.”

Which was assuring in more ways than one.

Of course, the update had been punctuated by the one question Jasper had come to expect from his family while they continued to sort affairs overseas.

“How is she?”

Jasper had replied automatically, “Fine.”

Which translated to: the same.

Which meant: not fine.

Thankfully, Edward knew this. They ended the call quickly after and now Jasper stood, minutes later, still lingering in the kitchen. He’d walked down onto the main level from his office while he’d answered Edward’s call, putting a stop to the work he’d been doing for the better part of the past two days.

Jasper had thought that after hearing Edward’s voice on the phone, Alice might make an appearance in the room. She probably wouldn’t say anything, but Jasper knew how much Alice loved her brother. Jasper could feel how much Alice missed Edward and had hoped—really, sorely hoped—that the sound of Edward’s voice would’ve roused her from her musings.

Instead, Jasper felt her sadness peak. Alice’s grief was an aching hum that Jasper could always feel in the background, unrelenting and intense.

So, Jasper had ended the call, and he’d given himself a minute to collect his thoughts. He had to in order to face the full extent of Alice’s misery again. It was the third inhabitant of the Cullen home currently, in addition to himself and Alice. It was also the loudest, and took up the most space out of all of them.

He made a decision then—and his own anguish pulsed within him when Alice’s emotions did not respond to his intention—and, after plugging the phone into the charger that rested on the pale quartz countertop behind him, turned toward the back of the house and started moving toward the back door.

Jasper hadn’t wanted any part of whatever reconstruction process their world now had to undergo. He’d respected and admired his family’s desire to be as intensely hands-on as they were overseas but Jasper hadn’t needed to think twice about what to do next.

He and Alice had been on a flight back to Montana before his family had even fully decided that themselves.

(Alice hadn’t been able to help him decipher that one, either.)

Jasper slid the glass door open wide and pretended not to notice the way Alice’s feet twitched from where she laid. It had been hard for him to see her like this (it still was) but it had been worse to feel the spark of fear that flickered through her every time something caught her off guard.

He had never seen Alice flinch before. Then, their world exploded around them.

The distance between the back kitchen doors and the patio wasn’t far. The house was wider than it was deep and Esme had always cherished having more lawn space than deck space. There was an entrance that directly connected the house and the patio further down. A tiny room that was only accessible through Carlisle’s office functioned as a quiet sitting and reading area and possessed two wide doors that opened fully onto the brand-new, grey-stained wooden patio.

It had been the last project Esme had finished before everything had gone to complete shit.

Well. Almost-finished. Last summer Alice had mentioned how Esme wanted to install an awning but couldn’t decide what color she wanted.

(Now, if Esme ever decided, Alice wouldn’t be privy to that.)

It wasn’t until he began to climb the few stairs that Jasper could see Alice entirely.

She was curled up on her right side. Her knees were tucked against her chest with her left arm draped lazily over her legs. Her right arm pillowed her head, her elbow bent enough that she could twist some of the longer strands of her hair on the back of her head between her fingers. It was a new habit, one he’d never seen from her before. He didn’t want to bring it up to any of his family—they were already worried about her enough as it was��but Jasper was sure it was some new self-soothing technique.

It didn’t sting that his own measures of soothing her weren't enough. If anything it made him almost relieved to see her doing something other than remaining fully and completely motionless; which was what she’d done for the first eleven days after they’d been home.

Jasper’d had to carry her to get her to hunt on that eleventh night. He still hadn’t told anyone about that. He knew she’d get better. He knew their worry would only make things worse.

He just didn’t know how long this was going to last. And now he couldn’t even fucking ask Alice for the answer.

Alice, who had always had her visions to guide herself and their family. Alice, who had always gone through each day with one foot firmly in the future. Alice, who lived in a world that the rest of them could never completely understand. Her visions had given her purpose. Her visions had given them safety. Her visions had given her everything.

 And now they were gone. And now she was lost.

Alice didn’t acknowledge him when he squeezed between the couch and the matching ottoman, moving directly in front of her face. She didn’t blink when he sat down beside her head and when he reached out and laid a hand against the side of her face, she didn’t react.

Her grief hit him like a punch to the gut but Jasper kept his hand still. He knew it was a comfort to her because he could feel it. There was sadness, confusion, frustration, and under it all, a clawing, piercing fear that Jasper knew she couldn’t shake. All of these shuddered within her as Alice desperately sought out his comfort, clinging to the calm he expelled.

The fear hadn’t been there at the beginning of this mess, and it had barely nibbled at her until close to the end.

The weathered, rickety woman had told them that they couldn’t be near the city. They needed to steer clear from the town, move far enough away that her scent would only be a memory to them, and “for the love of the holy land do not look at the sky.”

Magdalena had been the physically oldest vampire any of them had ever seen and had walked with a gait that either injury or turned-age had afflicted her with. She’d never told them how long she’d been around but Edward had estimated her origins to predate the early Iron Age. Now, they’d never know, but Magdalena’s sacrifice had won them everything.

Just how Magdalena’s gift had cost them so dearly.

Jasper sent a few waves of soothing joy her way. He kept his palm cupped against her cheek as he worked, using countless memories as a springboard to catapult him toward the wells of happiness and peace that now existed within him. Wells that had been dry before he’d met Alice. Now that he’d known and loved her for over a century, he had an excess of positive emotions. A wealth of blissful memories he would be able to drown himself in if he so desired.

Which he did. Especially now. His ability to access happiness would surely come in handy when it was time to mourn the ones they’d lost—Peter and Charlotte’s deaths still haunted him—but for now this wasn’t for his benefit, just for Alice’s.

When he moved his hand slightly, the ghost of a flinch twitched across her features and Jasper was reminded of what he had to do now.

“Can I hold you?”

He’d never had to ask before. Alice had always seen the question before it needed to be uttered and then acted or reacted accordingly. Now, if he moved too abruptly, her anxiety would smack him across the face. He knew it wasn’t from lack of trust, but because existing like this was still so foreign to Alice. She wasn’t used to not knowing what was going to happen next. She wasn’t used to being able to control every millisecond of her day.

More than her misery, Alice’s disorientation was the worst of it all.

Alice didn’t nod. Instead, she lifted her shoulder slightly, tilting her head as her elbow propped her torso upward. From there Jasper’s hand shifted and he moved them both swiftly. Alice melted against his side as he swung his own legs up onto the cushion, pulling Alice against him as he leaned backward. Jasper let his head rest on the metal arm rest and wrapped his arms firmly around her, squeezing tightly.

Alice had always loved the firmness of Jasper’s embraces. She’d told him as much when they’d first gotten together.

“You hold me like I might make a run for it at any point,” Alice had joked while burrowing deeper into Jasper’s side. He’d felt keen anxiety at that statement, his grip barely loosening for a fraction of a second. Before he could reply, she’d laughed and tightened her own hold against him. Her bare skin pressed firmly against his own naked chest. “No, no. I love it. It’s perfect. Never stop.”

Jasper still held her the same way he’d been doing for the past one-hundred-and-nine years. Only now, this was the first time in all their years together that Alice finally felt fragile to him. At the same time, he was somehow unreasonably afraid that she might disappear. If he held her a little bit tighter than usual, she didn’t comment.

Not that Jasper expected her to say anything now.

“Edward called. Not sure if you heard.” Jasper knew that she’d heard. Still, it felt important to acknowledge it verbally. Alice didn’t speak much now. In total she had maybe only spoken a handful of times since they’d returned home, five weeks prior. Jasper didn’t expect a reply, nor did he get one.

Still, he talked.

“He says ‘hi.’ So does Bella apparently, but I didn’t hear her. Edward just asked me to pass along the message.” Jasper eyed Alice’s clothes then, and with a quick inhale confirmed that they were Bella’s leggings. The shirt she wore wasn’t one of his although it looked similar to it. It was enormous on her; so large that she could’ve worn it like a dress without the leggings and it wouldn’t have looked strange.

So, Bella’s leggings and Emmett’s shirt. That must’ve been who she was missing extra today. Jasper was suddenly glad that Edward had passed Bella’s ‘hi’ along. Jasper waited a few seconds, hating what he had to say next, but continued to talk. “I’m thinking we can either go hunting tomorrow or on Tuesday. The weather is supposed to stay pretty dreary for the next few days. It’s better if we take advantage of it now.”

This was… difficult information to deliver. He’d never had to fill Alice in on the weather. He’d never had to verbalize options for hunting days with her. Hell, he’d never had to be the one to make the decision. Alice and her visions had dictated so much of what they did.

Jasper’s gift may still be intact, but with Alice’s gone, they were both left grasping for normalcy. Or, at whatever normalcy would now look like for them.

The effects of Magdalena’s gifts were believed to be permanent. As far as Edward had filled him in, Marcus and the surviving guard were still without their abilities. The Volturi was now a disarmed superpower, forced to face an uncertain future with the members that remained.

There really weren’t many of them left. (There hadn’t been many willing to surrender.)

They’d taken shelter in an empty church—all of the angry, tired people the Cullens had been able to gather for this terrible, final stand—forty kilometers north of Volterra and instructed to sit and wait. “You will know when it is time!” Magdalena had declared angrily in a tone that brooked no room for argument. “You will not see the sky. You will feel it.”

They hadn’t known what the hell the old woman was talking about, but they’d put this much trust in her already. All thirty-nine of them had stood by after shuttering the windows and then waited. They’d paced, they’d wandered the hidden rooms of the church, they’d murmured to one another in low voices as they all tried to face the fact that this moment was it. Their last chance.

By the time they had realized Alice was gone—she’d slipped away at some point, unseen and unheard—it had been too late.

There had been arguing and yelling and the only thing that had stopped him from punching a hole into the old stone wall and barging ahead was Kate’s electric grip on his neck and afterward, Rosalie’s hand clinging painfully tight to his, and Esme’s arms embracing him around the middle.

(They’d played dirty then, he realized later when he thought back to that moment. They’d known that he wouldn’t have hurt either of them; those two seconds of hesitance when he’d paused, refusing to elbow Rose away or shove Esme off of him, had been long enough for everyone else to jump in and subdue him.)

“Wherever she is, she knows what she’s doing,” Edward had been just as terrified and furious as Jasper felt, but his words were nothing but the painful, horrible truth. “We have to trust her.”

The instant they’d all felt Magdalena’s signal—a pulse of something flickered across their awareness at the same exact moment; not quite a flash of light or a physical shake but they’d all been thrown off-kilter for a millisecond, each one of their senses experiencing a blip on their radars before it vanished from existence—they’d all taken off toward Volterra. Jasper and Esme were the only two that veered off course, desperately trailing after Alice’s scent.

They’d found her, ten kilometers outside of Volterra, not far from where the action was now taking place, limping and injured but alive. Demetri’s ashes still smoldered (his head had been found detached and still-unburnt, lying in the tall, smoking grass and proving both his identity and demise), Magdalena’s overcoat remained (but Magdalena had been reduced to something strange; no ash sat within the crumbled fabric, but a singed, blackened mark on the ground was the only evidence of where she’d stood and what she’d done), and Alice was screaming like they’d never heard her scream before.

Jasper pushed away the memory of Alice’s screaming, and focused back on the present.

“Ness and Jacob are staying in Washington for a little while longer.” Jasper let his eyes flicker downward to watch her face as he spoke. Alice, of course, didn’t react outwardly to that information.

Updates on the most ‘human’ of their family were the only ones he could give her that didn’t make her more miserable. She’d never been able to see those two, so the information allowed them a feigned normalcy. This—verbalizing messages to and from and about Renesmee and Jacob—was something that had been normal before. Jasper thought that reminding her often of what those two were doing would make it easier to transition her into having to also receive information on the rest of their family that way.

It wasn’t working so far.

“They charged Carlisle’s card for that grocery subscription service Esme thought she canceled so we might end up having a delivery person stop by the house sometime this week. I sent a few emails trying to get a hold of their support team to tell them to cancel it and not to send anyone but,” Jasper half shrugged and Alice rose and fell with the movement “if we have a human dropping stuff at the door sometime this week, that’s what it is.” Alice said nothing. “Maybe if we leave tomorrow and make it a longer trip we can raise our chances of missing out on that. I’ll clean it up if we come home on Tuesday to rotting human food on the front step.”

Still, silence.

Jasper sent a few more concentrated bursts of contentment and happiness outward. He knew that Alice was absorbing it and that it felt nice, but despite his interference the grief and misery still simmered beneath the surface. Jasper knew that despite this comfort, once he walked away again, the sadness would take back over.

At first when they’d arrived home he’d relented to simply keep her by his side until she started feeling better. But then days turned into weeks and his responsibilities had begun to pile up too high.

While Jasper didn’t have any involvement with whatever international political shit-show that was currently taking place in Madrid, the Cullen affairs had never been self-sustaining. There were so many wheels that were constantly turning to keep their livelihood possible and now, while the rest of his family helped piece together the bones for a future vampire confederation, he had accounts to watch, covers to maintain, and a frankly ridiculous amount of emails to keep up with in between Carlisle’s, Alice’s, and Rosalie’s various accounts.

More and more as the days passed he missed the lack of responsibilities from his few nomadic days…

Which was really the only thing he missed from that time in his life.

Jasper inhaled again, and the Alice-Bella-Emmett combination he could smell almost made him sad. Almost. He wouldn’t indulge in such an emotion right now. Eventually he’d be able to admit to himself how much he missed his family. Eventually he’d be able to mourn the loss of Peter and Charlotte. Eventually he’d be able to sit and process his own misery over the hurt and pain that Alice was experiencing. For now, he couldn’t afford to feel useless or wallow in pity.

Alice did not speak in reply to his words, and that was hard for Jasper to take. Still, he held her closely, focused hard on funneling his love into her, and tried to think of what to do next. Alice wasn’t calling the shots now, and he hadn’t sat in the driver’s seat of this relationship for an entire damned century.

It was a hard adjustment.

There had been a few desperate, horrifying moments after he and Esme had found her. It wasn’t until Alice blinked up at him, choking back her screams for long enough to yell at him and demand that he go forward and rejoin everyone, that he reluctantly left her behind with Esme.

By the time he’d made it to Volterra he’d barely been needed. Aro, Caius, and Renata had already been killed and Carlisle was already trying to negotiate, mid-fight, with remaining members of the guard.

In the end, very few of the Volturi had made it out alive. The ones that remained proceeded with a hesitant caution. By the time Esme had arrived hours later, Alice curled up in her arms, still and silent and staring, Jasper had swept Alice away, and fled toward the edge of the city.

He had been the only one who could really feel how terrified she was to be inside Volterra’s walls again. (They hadn’t gone back.)

Jasper lifted his arm to adjust the falling collar of Emmett’s shirt back onto Alice’s shoulder. If she noticed that Jasper was covering up the jagged scar that peeked out at him from beneath the deep blue fabric, she didn’t give any indication.

Demetri might be dead, but Jasper would always wish he’d been the one to do it.

Eventually, Jasper started speaking. His voice drifted toward Alice as he made choice after choice, and for a couple minutes he spoke quietly, uninterrupted. He decided their hunting trip—how long they’d be gone, where they’d go—he talked about the other trip they would need to make to Seattle within the next few weeks—there was a chance most of his family would remain in Spain for a few years and he needed new papers made up—and then he simply talked about his day. 

By the time Alice even stirred (just a slight shift of her shoulders as she wrapped her thin, bony fingers around one of his biceps) Jasper had been talking about the most mundane news he’d seen online that morning. It had been a slow news day; the main story had involved some celebrity’s stolen dog and their forthcoming divorce.

It was as he was about to go on one of what Renesmee called his ‘old man rants’ about social media and celebrity culture that he heard his cell phone start ringing from the house. 

He sighed and nuzzled his head against Alice’s, inhaling her scent and tightening his embrace slightly. “I’ll get it in a minute,” Jasper spoke quietly, still not making a move to untangle himself from Alice and head back into the house.

“What if something happens?”

For a moment Jasper hoped that he hadn’t accidentally let his surprise burst out of himself at the sound of Alice’s voice. Before he even replied verbally he leaned down and pressed a kiss against her dark, messy hair. The joy at hearing her voice momentarily wiped every other thought from his head.

Then her anxiety began to increase, even despite his influence, and he forced himself to focus. Alice was worried.

“If it’s important they’ll call again. And if they call twice I’ll go get it, I promise.” He spoke the words directly against her head. The dark, soft wisps of her hair tickled his lips as he talked. Jasper did not want to let Alice go. He never did, really. But now that she’d spoken, he found himself praying with a mighty fervor that whoever had called him didn’t really need him, and that they wouldn’t call twice.

“What if something happens?” Alice asked again, a hint of alarm in her voice as the third ring trilled in the kitchen. “What if something happens?” The alarm was apparent now and her grip on his bicep tightened.

Jasper pulled back then. Or, at least, he tried to. Alice was clinging to him so tightly that when he shifted upward her entire, minuscule weight came with him. “Hey,” he reached up and brushed her hair back off of her forehead, and the motion forced her head back slightly. Her dark eyes were wide open and looking at him with exposed nerves. The joy at having her gaze locked onto him was overshadowed so fiercely by the rising fear in her.

“Come on,” he shifted until he was sitting upright, his feet back on the cool wood of the patio. Alice didn’t loosen her grip on his arm until he shifted so that his own arms were holding her beneath her back and her knees. “We’ll go look,” he stood and carried her back to the house. Her fierce grip shifted so that her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck.

Jasper was thankful for the proximity and for her skin still being pressed to his. It was making it easier for him to detect each and every tiny shift of her emotional state, and it was helping him to directly combat her fear while he moved them back inside.

Thankfully, Alice was willing to release her vise grip enough for Jasper to sit her on the counter beside his phone. It was buzzing now but not with another phone call, just with a few texts from the same person who had just called.

Jasper picked up the phone and snorted at what he saw in his inbox. Then, he handed his phone to Alice. “These are definitely for you.”

Alice’s phone had been off for weeks now. Jasper wasn’t sure where it was—somewhere in her room definitely, and probably dead in a pile of laundry—but it didn’t matter. Any message meant for Jasper or Alice was sent to Jasper’s phone.

Bella had sent a series of photos, most of them blurry, of one of the people Jasper wasn’t familiar with. They were pictures very clearly not taken with consent of the subject in them. One of them had half of Bella’s finger over the lens and was cut off on the top by something dark, as if she’d taken it beneath a table to get a better look at the orange shoe-pink trouser combination. The message attached to the six photos read:

I know I’m not the professional stylist here but please tell me I’m not crazy in thinking this is the ugliest thing anyone has ever worn

The spark of amusement that pulsed low in Alice made Jasper’s heart soar. The next time Edward called Jasper would absolutely tell him to encourage his wife’s mean little habit.

Alice flipped through the photos for a few seconds. She didn’t smile exactly but the corner of her mouth did twitch slightly, her cheek pulling back a bit in what probably had to count as a smile now. Jasper watched as her hand tightened around the phone as she thumbed the screen off.

“What if something happens?” She spoke the same words again. This time, they were gentler. They were soft and contemplative in the same way her almost-black eyes were as she stared down at the dark screen of the device in her grasp. “What do we do?”

“Things are going to happen,” he replied without hesitation. “They always have and they always will.”

Alice didn’t reply immediately. She handed him back his phone, which he accepted and swiftly plugged back into the charger that rested beside her hip on the counter. They sat in silence for several long minutes.

Alice gripped the sides of the counter, leaning forward slightly as she slouched as her eyes focused somewhere on the floor behind where Jasper stood. He watched her, not willing to shatter the silence now that it appeared she was going to engage in a conversation today.

It broke his heart to see how tiny she looked, sitting before him in a shirt that did not fit, wearing leggings that were far too long, and with an empty stare that was still, after all these weeks, so terribly unfamiliar on her small, beautiful face.

This was an Alice that had never before existed. This was an Alice he did not know.

It was also an Alice that she, herself, did not know either.

Alice did not look at him when she spoke again, “I don’t know what to do.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know how to help.”

“You don’t need to,” he said, kindly.

The flicker of annoyance and the way her eyes narrowed slightly almost made her look and feel like herself. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone again beneath the surface of her misery, swept under the current of her more potent emotions.

“What am I supposed to do?” Alice’s voice cracked on the last word and her empty expression turned frustrated, the thin line of her mouth contorting into a miserable grimace. Her grip tightened on the counter until the granite creaked beneath her grip and she moved her hands into her lap, pulling and squeezing at her own fingers. Another habit Jasper had watched her develop over the past several weeks. “I don’t know what to do.”

Then, the rest of her words erupted out of her. “I never saw this. I never saw this ever before and I don’t know if it’s because of course I wouldn’t have seen it—it would’ve been like looking into a void so it’s not like I would’ve even been able to search out possible paths—or because it wasn’t supposed to happen. Not as if that matters anymore. I knew what I had to do and I did it and I don’t regret it. I really don’t,” her eyes still stared at that spot on the ground just past Jasper’s feet, but her hands reached out then and Jasper took them firmly. They shook fiercely.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to think. I don’t know how to feel and I can’t fucking focus!” She growled out the words and Jasper relished the way her frustration bubbled over, her eyes sharpening as she glared at the tile as if she wanted to rip each one up individually. “I don’t know how to be like this. I don’t—I can’t—I don’t know how I’m supposed to live now.” Finally, she lifted her eyes to meet his. She was angry and she was miserable and she was beautiful as she seethed with bitterness. “I hate this. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do with all the empty space in my brain.”

There were hundreds of things Jasper could’ve said in that moment. Maybe more. He could’ve soothed her with an embrace or continued the course of this conversation to get them to a point where they’d be able to really dig down deep into the philosophy of what the hell they were meant to do with their lives and what ‘finding meaning’ meant and twelve types of theories and lines of enquiry he’d encountered throughout the decades.

Instead, he said this: “I’m sure if you finally listened to the Crazy Horse album it would make Emmett’s entire decade.” He paused. “Or you could tell him you tried to listen but hated “Downtown” and it would send him into an equally amusing fit.”

Alice let out a haggard breath at that, and it almost sounded like a laugh. She shook her head and her mouth twitched again. Almost a real smile, too.

“I’m not getting him started on that,” her voice was soft and beautiful and when she lifted the loose collar up to press against her nose, she sighed. “I’m worried about them.”

“I am, too.” There was no use denying it.

“I don’t know how I’m…” she struggled for the correct words, “supposed to be a person.”

“The same way I am.”

“At least you still have…” her voice trailed off and she winced. “I’m sorry.”

Her dejected expression made his chest hurt. He offered a smile that he was thankful she was looking at. “It’s okay. I just mean that I’ve never known what to do the same way you do. I’d like to think I’ve gotten by pretty well.”

Another almost-smile. “Thanks to me.”

Jasper gave Alice a full smile. “Thanks to you.”

Jasper lifted his hands to cup Alice’s cheeks and she sighed and leaned into his touch. Alice’s eyes flickered closed at the soothing contact and she hooked her unsteady hands around his wrists. She held tight to him as she forced herself to breathe evenly. Jasper leaned forward and let his forehead rest against hers, sighing heavily.

They stood like that, close to one another, unmoving except for their even, steady breathing, for several long minutes. Alice's misery still flooded her awareness, and because of his gift, his. Despite that, her emotions were more varied and vibrant than they’d been in a long time. To Jasper, they were a breath of fresh, warm air; almost soothing in what they meant, and what this emergence of Alice promised.

Almost an hour passed before he finally moved again. Jasper leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and brushed his thumbs over the smoothness of her cheeks. Then, he spoke, and his voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t have all the answers. Not like you used to,” the words were blunt with honesty because avoiding the topic wouldn’t make it any less real. Alice flinched, but she nodded as he continued to speak. “I’ve never had the answers. But I know that it’s possible to live day by day. It’s possible to plan in a way that takes chances and it’s possible to take the unexpected in stride. There is a way where this world will be easier for you to traverse, and it’s only going to get easier with time. I’m sorry that you can’t see the other side of that. I’m sorry that you have to figure this out now, after all this time. It isn’t fair to you.”

“I knew what I was doing when I left,” Alice’s voice was just as quiet. “I knew what would happen. I just needed to get to Demetri before he got to Madgalena.” She shifted her head until it came to rest against his shoulder. “I knew the risk and I didn’t see what happened afterward and I think that… I think that should have scared me more than it did.”

Jasper didn’t know how to reply to that. Thankfully, Alice spoke again after a few quiet seconds.

“I hate this.” Her words came out in a breathy shudder. “I hate this, Jazz.”

“I know,” Jasper wrapped his arms tight around her and stepped closer, allowing Alice to mold herself into his firm embrace. “I’ll be here the entire time, no matter how much you hate it. When you start hating it a little less, I’ll still be here.”

There was a delicate moment where the only thing that existed was their arms wrapped around each other, their quiet breathing, and the soothing comfort in the air that Jasper knew was the physical embodiment of their love.

It wasn’t just a thing he could hear or feel. It was something that was known. Something that he would never doubt. Something that no amount of blind, uncertain futures would be able to take away from them.

“I love you,” she sighed against his collar, her left hand coming to rest on the opposite side of his neck and that’s when he felt it. The first signs of warmth; the shining tenor of her bright emotions. The excited yearning that he’d felt from her in that diner all those years ago.

Jasper kissed Alice, and once again, he felt hope.

[blueroses789]

From Green to Blue

Summary: The thoughts of Eren with another woman compel you to act, or rather, self-destruct.

Chapter 19: Compelled

Next chapter: tba

Warnings:

Angst

Smut

Mental health crisis

MDNI: 18 plus

It was madness, rage and lust that provoked you. Fingers tangled in silky brown hair. Eren’s breath hitched as the two bodies pressed against one another. You did not care that it was in the kitchen, first, something had to be satiated.

Anger, humiliation, greed. These emotions must be satiated. Months of supersede emotions boiled forth into that kiss. Eren quickly broke apart to seize the hem of your dress. Understanding what Eren wanted, you lifted your arms. The blue dress tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Eren’s green eyes took in your body. A sudden shyness came over you. The look in Eren’s eyes was bright, a look you had not seen in months. The sight was so alarming that on instinct you covered your body.

“Y/n we don’t have to.” Despite the out Eren had given, there was something egging you on.

“No, don't.” You breathed out. Eren got down on his knees, hands going down to your underwear. The cool air stimulated the senses. You could feel his hot breath on the thighs.

“Eren-!” He didn’t wait. A leg went over his shoulder to slot a warm mouth over your slit. Plump lips kissed between your legs.

You’d forgotten how it felt. His hair tickles your thighs, breath hits your body, and hands slide up your waist.

Eren first swiped his tongue between the slit.

“Don’t tease.” Your voice came out in a gasp. Eren’s hands gripped your waist providing stability. He finally focused on your clit, hardening his tongue. A yelp escaped your mouth. Eren positioned his face so that it was easier for you to take control.

“Grab my hair.” He mumbled, sending shivers up your spine. Eren focused on the clit as you took control. It gave you a savage joy to take this. Lust was not the prevailing motivator. You had complete control over Eren. Looking down you saw his cheeks flushed and half-lidded eyes. Moans came rumbling from his chest. For a moment Eren broke apart to breathe. But it was quick as pleasure overtook his veins.

“Wait.” Eren let out a whine as you moved back. With aching legs, you hopped up onto the counter. Eren didn’t even let you get in a word because he was back to work.

Legs wrapped themselves around his head as you reached a high. You gritted your teeth so hard they throbbed.

Exhausted, you slumped back. Eren cleaned up between your thighs. He only let up when your legs shook from overstimulation.

The two of you looked at one another. Both of you had hot faces and trembling legs. Your pussy throbbed seeing your slick dripping down his chin.

“Bed.” You ordered.

The next two days passed in a haze of sex. Your life had come from celibacy to hardly being able to get out of bed. There wasn’t a surface untouched. It was like whipping away the last bits of Hannah.

Your fingernails dig into the bathroom wall as Eren took you from behind. The hot bathroom water showered on your body. Hot kisses peppered the back of your neck, each touch stinging.

“Eren!” Your stomach is uncoiled. Eren trembled behind you. Reaching his own release Eren wrapped his arms around your waist. It took a for moments for both of you to climb down. Eren turned off the shower and picked up a towel. Once dried the two of you collapsed onto the bed.

With a yawn, you turned over to sleep. You could hear Eren coming closer, arms curling around your waist. Angry snakes were thrashing around in your stomach, their tails smacking the sides. Your gut was curling up into itself. All you could do was close your eyes, feel his breath on the back of your neck, and sleep.

Was it just you or was the white ceiling lower? You had stuck a few stick-on flowers to the ceiling. All that did was make the white ceiling look that much bigger. You had changed the rug under your feet, a small circular pink piece. Even if it was smaller than the beige, a pink rug didn’t resemble white so much.

Thankfully Eren was gone at the moment. This left you a temporary respite from his presence. You scrolled through your phone for someone the call, the silence becoming deafening. Eren’s mother was probably tired this early in the morning, your own was certainly not an option. Your finger hovered above Biannca’s icon. But your pride and shame were stronger. You didn’t want to disturb Armin right now. Of course, you had other friends but your deepest fears weren’t something widely shared.

You were trapped.

At four months your stomach was starting to expand. The physical weight of pregnancy was starting to impede your life. You’d been lucky in not having severe morning sickness for very long. The cold was sweeping through your body now. The days seemed colder now, despite the temperature rising.

Today you sat in a warm bathtub trying to keep from shaking. A cinnamon-scented candle burned away. Soapy suds clung to your cold body. Relaxed, you wondered if this was how your baby felt. All cozy and floating without a care in the world.

What would you do when the baby was born? As always your brain froze when it came to that problem. There wasn’t enough room for the baby in this apartment, and you couldn’t go on living like this forever. You looked down at your stomach, a hand running over its surface. What would the baby look like? Boy or girl? Who’s look would the baby favor? What would it be like?

Your thinking was cut short as Eren entered.

“Is everything alright?” Eren knelt beside you, placing a hand on your belly.

“Are you nervous for tomorrow?”

“I just hope the baby is alright..” Eren pushed the hair back from your face. It had become slightly damp despite not being in the water. Eren seemed to want to say something, so you turned your back on him.

There was nothing you wanted to hear.

The next morning you were filled with dreadful excitement. Today you would see your baby for the first time. For the first time you woke up before Eren. By the time Eren woke up you were already dressed and eating breakfast.

“If you're up to it we can meet up with my mother afterward.”

“Sure.” You had no problem with that. And anyway you still had some questions to ask her regarding pregnancy. You had at one point considered asking your mother some questions, but put that thought out of your mind. Speaking of your mother, she had been suspiciously silent for the past few weeks. Maybe tormenting you was simply a temporary distraction.

Would you be a good mother? You had no doubt that you would love your child. But loving and actually being a good mother can sometimes be two different things. You wondered if at one time your mother loved you. Perhaps the years weighed heavy and she no longer had the heart to love.

“This will be different, I’m not doing this alone.” You convinced yourself. All would be fine.

By 9:00 you and Eren were in the car.

“You seem excited.” A small smile played on Eren’s lips. The ride there felt like it took too long despite it only taking twenty minutes.

The smell of cleaning products was heavy in the air. Eren placed a hand on your back. Already a few waited in the hallway. Mothers who were expecting just as you were. You noticed a young woman around your age. She was alone and looked scared. You wondered if she had no one to rely on.

“This will be cold and a bit uncomfortable.” The doctor squirted blue jelly onto your belly. You winced and tried to stop squirming by squeezing harder onto Eren’s hand. A small giggle broke out and Eren had to try to stop laughing. A doctor started to press down on your belly with the transducer. The screen was only foggy black and white. But every move captured your eyes in awe. You could just make out a small figure amongst it all.

“Is that-?”

“Yes, that's the baby. Do you want to find out the gender?”

“Yes!” Both you and Eren said in unison.

“You two don’t have any preferences?” She asked.

“No. So long as the baby is healthy.” Eren said.

“Well, it's a boy.” You smiled, looking at Eren.

“And he looks fine?”

“Healthy and whole.” She replied.

Carla squealed in delight at the noise. She nearly crushed you in her hug. Zeke and Grish descend the stairs.

“Y/n’s having a boy!” Grisha laughed.

“It seems that the Yeager family can only make boys.”

“Don’t tell Faye that.” Zeke gave his brother a hug.

“Plus you and Pieck will have to have a baby before we know that.” You raised an eyebrow at Zeke. Everyone laughed as his face turned red. Everyone hurried to the kitchen as Carla put on some tea. You couldn’t help but notice there was a spring in her step.

“We actually have some good news ourselves.” Grisha looked lovingly at his wife. Carla gave you and Eren an exhilarating look.

“The doctors say the chemo is going well. They believe I am entering the recovery stage.” The words came out in a rush. Immediately Eren rushed to his mother's side and encased her in an enormous hug. A shocked gasp broke past your lips.

“Oh my god congratulations!” You cried. And as the group of you hugged, for one moment, everything seemed alright.

notes: So this chapter is shorter than my usual length. I just felt like this was the right point to cut off. Next is going to be from Hannah's point of view and oh boy is it going to be angsty.

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[bella-goths-wife]

James NSFW alphabet

James x reader

A= aftercare (what’s he like after sex?)

The king of aftercare

You want a snack? Done

You want a massage and a bubble bath? The waters already running my love

He wants to make sure every aspect of sex for you is pleasurable, even aftercare

He doesn’t want you in pain or exhaustion if he can help it

He doesn’t like receiving it most of the time unless it was an extremely emotional session

If he does receive it, he’ll be sure to reciprocate three times over next time

B= body part (his favourite body part on him and reader)

James’s favourite body part on you is definitely your hands. He likes holding them and he loves seeing them on him and feeling your touch. A close second would be your neck because of how much he loves to bit and grab it.

His favourite body part on himself is his arms. He loves how big his arms are and how wide his shoulders are. He sees them as a weapon to protect you with. He also likes his hair because you take care of it for him.

C=cum (anything to do with cum)

James prefers to cum inside but he doesn’t mind facials and he also likes to cum on readers face. When he’s gives a blowjob and cums he adores seeing reader swallow it.

D=dirty secret

James once came across you and faith having sex and saw how much pleasure she was giving you. It sparked a lot of jealousy in James

So after that incident James made sure to overstimulate you to hell and made sure you came at least six times. He also made sure faith could hear you screaming his name.

E=experience (how much experience does he have?)

James has been with you and one other girl. He sees sex as a very vulnerable and personal thing so he doesn’t really want to sleep with someone he doesn’t love.

That’s not to say he doesn’t know what to do though. He did lots of research from books, he tried porn but he didn’t think that would be pleasurable for a girl. He will let you guide him if something doesn’t feel good and he won’t let it hurt his ego, whatever works for you he likes.

F=favourite position

James likes to be sat down while you ride him. He likes that he can control the pace and be dominant while also letting you do what’s comfortable and pleasurable for you. He also likes that you can make eye contact with him whilst doing it. It also makes it easier for him to have a cigarette during sex.

G=goofy (is he goofy or serious?)

Most of the time he’s serious but sometimes he’ll tease you to embarrass you. He would only ever laugh during sex if something stupid happened like the bed broke or you fell off, stuff like that would make him crack.

H=hair (shaved or not shaved?)

James has a trimmed dirty blonde bush. He used to let it grow up but after dating you he decided to start trimming it for your comfort. He doesn’t mind trimming but sometimes finds it annoying and wish’s he doesn’t have to.

He doesn’t mind if you have pubic hair or not, whatever you want he’ll accept. If you do trim he likes a Landing strip because he sometimes find it sexy for some reason.

I=intimacy (what’s he like during sex?)

James is intense during sex, and romantic. He wants to be able to look into your eyes and show you his pure devotion and adoration as he makes you cum. He loves the romance of sex and wants to worship you.

J=jack off (how often do they masturbate?)

He doesn’t really masturbate. James doesn’t really get that horny unless your involved, he’s never really felt the desire to have sex before his relationship with you. He does jack off when he misses you and hasn’t been able to see you in a while so I’d say maybe once every 2-3 weeks. He only really gets horny if your involved.

K=kinks

I could see James with a daddy kink, or any nickname that holds an authoritative title like sir or master. Something to show he’s in control.

He’d also be kind of into spanking or dirty talk because he loves how embarrassed you get when he tells you what he’s going to do to you in detail.

Definitely hair pulling but he’d never admit it because it might stop you doing hair care with him.

L=location (where would he do it?)

The two of you usually do it at his house because his uncle is never home but since he unofficially moved in with max the two of you started doing it in your room at maxs house while max was working at the store.

If the two of you got a moment alone in the cave James would be really into it. Not just because of revenge against your fathers who could catch you at any moment but also because he can rub it in faiths face and make her listen to him enjoying you.

M=motivation (what gets him going)

You.

Literally anything you do will get him going.

As I’ve said he’s not really a horny person but when it comes to you he’s ready to go 24/7

One thing that gets him really horny is when you care for him. He’s never had anyone take care of him before so when you take care of him or doing hair care for him he just wants to rip your cloths off.

N=no (what’s a turn off)

He wouldn’t enjoy a threesome because he already has to share you with faith so sex is the time where he gets you all to himself.

He wouldn’t volunteer pegging but if you asked him he would do it, he would prefer to be in control though.

O=oral (giving or receiving?)

Giving absolutely.

If this man could make it his full time job to go down on you he would sign up immediately.

He finds it sexy when he’s in between your thighs or your straddling his face and you grip his hair and he gives you pleasure

He likes being able to make you cum with no expectation of getting the same treatment. If you offer to go down on him he won’t turn you down but he’s perfectly fine with eating you out and not getting head.

P=pace (slow and sensual or fast and rough)

Most of the time it has to be rough and quick because the two of you are afraid of being caught but if the two of you have time he’ll be romantic and slow

Q=quickie (opinions on quickies)

He’d prefer to take his time and drag it out but he knows that the two of you don’t really have that option so he’d rather have a full session but he doesn’t mind quickies

R=risk (do they experiment?)

James would love to try new things that you suggest at least once to see if it works for the two of you. He won’t experiment with anything that could seriously hurt you or get the two of you caught by your fathers because that’s a one way ticket to death. If you suggest it and he likes the sound of it he’ll try it.

S=stamina (how long can they go for)

If the two of you have time he could do for around six to seven rounds before he’d get tired out

T=toys (do they own toys)

James doesn’t. Again he doesn’t really get horny without you so he doesn’t see the need from them but he’s open to using some on you. As long as you haven’t used them with faith before.

U=unfair (do they tease?)

James is the biggest tease ever. He’ll purposely get you aroused and leave you high and dry sometimes if he’s feeling mean. That’s rare though. He will, however, edge you for hours at a time if you are bratty with him

V=volume (how loud do they get?)

He’s more of a growler when it comes to sex but if you go down on him he lets out breathy moans and whimpers. Only occasionally though

W=wild card (random headcannon)

James has a fantasy that when the two of you turn and are able to fly in human form of having sex on the cave roof or in the air above everybody else. He likes the risk of it and he also thinks it’s would be cool to use his abilities to fuck you

X=x-ray (what’s he packing)

I’d say around five and a half inches non erect and six and a half inches erect with a slightly bigger than average girth

Y=yearning (how high is his sex drive)

Without you it’s extremely low but with you it’s extremely high. If he’s got you alone he’s thinking about bending you over the nearest surface and fucking your brains out around 70 percent of the time but if your not into it he’ll immediately snap out of it

Z=zzz (how fast do they fall asleep afterwards)

He’ll only fall asleep after you fall asleep in his arms but it’s rare that the two of you get the chance considering you mostly have quickies.

Hope you guys enjoyed, let me know if I should do faiths version

Love ya ❤️

[seriouslysnape]

Letting Down Easy

Harry Potter x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Overstimulation, Breast play.

Word Count: 1,469

“I’m not upset with you, lovely.”

Harry sniffed as the last of his tears leaked from his bleary eyes. 7 orgasms. You had made him cum 7 times and in multiple ways over the course of the last few hours. The poor boy was exhausted. He was completely tuckered out with absolutely nothing left to give. Not to mention that he had slipped far into a subspace somewhere between the fourth and fifth orgasm. He was totally gone and not in his normal mindset.

You couldn’t even depend on him to pick up your sweater off of the floor because he was so tired. His muscles were contracting and releasing as fast as they could from all the adrenaline and overstimulation. His words slurred together and sometimes stringed together a sentence of words that didn’t belong to each other. That’s when you knew he had enough. You never pushed him to the point where he physically couldn’t do it anymore. There was a difference between him thinking he couldn’t give you one more, and then him actually not being able to. You knew to call it quits the second he couldn’t do it.

He was a whimpering mess, and he just couldn’t seem to calm down. You hushed him once you had fallen from your own final climax, running your hands along his chest and core to bring him back down to Earth. Your legs were firmly planted on either side of his hips, not allowing himself to go anywhere. His chest inflated as much as it could with each inhale as he tried to regain his breath.

“Harry…” You sang to him, your voice much lighter and sweeter than it had been previously, “Look at me, baby.”

Harry’s head turned from its lolled side position, his piercing eyes gazing up at you. You could see it in his face that he wasn’t having many thoughts other than that he wanted more, even though you knew he was way too far off for any more.

“Was...was I good, Mommy?” He croaked, his voice small and weak.

You rustled his hair, scratching at his scalp lovingly.

“It’s not Mommy anymore, Harry. It’s [Y/N],” You reminded him, “You were so good. Such a good boy.”

A temporary look of relief washed over his face, his head falling back onto the pillow so far that his eyes were now trained on the headboard.

“A good boy…” He repeated as if it were the nicest thing you had ever told him.

“Yes, Harry. You’re my good boy,” You told him, “You’re all soft now, huh?”

You had said that second part as an attempt to show him that he had indeed done what he was supposed to do. He had done everything you had instructed him to do perfectly and without any flaws. However, his head shot up to peer down at his cock laying relaxed between his legs, and his expression changed to pure panic, letting you know that you shouldn’t have said that.

“S-Soft?!” He sputtered, positively mortified that his erection was gone.

“Well, yeah, love. You got off more than-”

“I’m sorry, Mommy! I’m sorry that I’m not hard and I can’t make you cum anymore!” He squealed, a new set of tears returning to his eyes for a totally different purpose.

You stared down at him with widened, concerned eyes. You had never seen him act quite like this. You had pushed him into subspaces before, but never so much to where he was beside himself with emotions.

“Harry,” You breathed in a surprised tone, “I’m not upset with you, lovely.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be bad. I’m not a good boy, I wanna be your good boy, Mommy!” He sobbed, blubbering over his words.

He was a wreck at this point. He was wailing and crying so hard that he was hiccuping between breaths. His glasses fogged up from the condensation of his tears, blocking his vision completely. You reached to pluck them from his face, wiping them off with the edge of the sheet on his bed as you spoke as lightly as possible.

“Listen to me, angel,” You ordered, putting his glasses on his face again once the tears stopped forming, “You are a good boy. You’re always my good boy. You did such a good job, and I’m proud of you. But you gotta come back for me, Harry.”

He didn’t like that answer. He didn’t like that at all.

“But I’m right here! I wanna make you feel good and I wanna make Mommy happy!” He shrieked, still completely overwhelmed with feelings.

You were beginning to really worry now. You feared you had pushed him too hard and now you weren’t sure how to let him back down easy. Your sweet talking and gentle caresses weren’t working. 

“It’s [Y/N], Harry. Not Mommy anymore,” You reminded him again, “You make me very, very happy.”

“But I can’t get hard anymore! I can’t make Mommy feel good.” He coughed, beginning to literally choke on his cries.

“Harry, how many times did you cum?” You asked, trying a different tactic.

He sniffed again.

“What?” He queried meekly.

“How many times did you cum for me?” You asked again.

His eyes shone with tears and ecstasy as he refused to look away from you.

“Uhm...seven?” He said more as a question, because honestly he had lost track.

“That’s right. Seven,” You nodded with a reassuring grin, “You did such a good job for me. You were my good boy like you are every time.”

The tear tracks on his cheeks were breaking your heart. His entire behavior was killing you. You felt terrible for making him this upset. 

“Every time...your good boy…” He echoed his tears stopping once again.

You nodded once more, hoping that maybe you had finally begun to pull him out of his subspace.

“Yes, Harry. My good boy.” You assured him.

His cries mellowed out back into a few dull whimpers. Thankfully, he seemed to be breathing easier and the shaking of his muscles had dwindled into occasional spasms. His gaze trailed from your face to your free breasts, his eyes staring hungrily at them. Harry always had a bit of a soft spot for your tits. He loved watching them bounce when you rode him or when he thrusted into you. He adored them. Your lips upturned into more of a smirk when you caught his glance.

“You want to suck my tits, baby? Would that make you feel better?” You questioned him, already knowing the answer.

His eyes brightened when he looked at your eyes again.

“Can I? Please?” He pleaded, his lips already parting with desire.

You unstraddled him in response, laying down on the mattress and against the pillows with a relaxed sigh. You coaxed him to lay between your legs so his head was in the right position.

“Go ahead, sweet boy. I know you like this.” You granted him.

He gave your breasts another look over before he wrapped his mouth around your right nipple. You didn’t dare let out the moan that threatened to escape, because you were afraid it’d send him back into hysterics if he heard you. It undoubtedly sent rushes of arousal through you, but you could deal with it on your own later...or just ignore it until next time. A content hum bubbled out of Harry’s chest as his tongue swirled around your bud, creating suction to send the most wonderful waves through you and to put himself at ease.

Harry didn’t really suck your tits often. If he did it was in the heat of the moment or because he was super stressed out. It was never in a moment like this. He had his head resting between your breasts as he nursed your nipple. His ear picked up every thump of your heart, which shockingly helped bring him out of the sex ridden daze he was in.

He turned his head at one point to pay your other breast some love, sucking and kissing it just as he had the other one. Your hand was on his head, rubbing his hair and dragging your nails carefully through it. The silence was comforting other than the occasional sucking sound being heard from his mouth, and it gave both of you time to recover.

After maybe ten minutes or so, Harry lifted his head and smiled sleepily. He wasn’t completely out of his haze yet, but he was much better than before. He’d be okay soon enough. A good night of tender care and an even better night of sleep was sure to bring him back fully.

“Feeling okay, Harry?” You asked him.

He nodded his head lazily, leaving another kiss between your breasts.

“Yeah. Never better.”

[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.

[marc-spectorr]

Hey Callie (I hope I spelled your name right.) I know your exhausted so I thought I'd give you some nfsw head cannons I have about Marc!

So I know everyone agrees that Marc is a top and he can be but, I feel like Marc needs to decompress and you can have control. It would take him a little be to trust you when he's submissive because he doesn't you to think he's week. He's protects you and Steven and once he dose trust you it would be easier for him to let go and be soft and let his emotions out.

(he was in the Marines so I know he can take orders. 😉) He definitely would be eager to please. I think it would make marc melt if you called him a good boy and make his brain short circuit.

I also think he would like to be overstimulated so he's not in his head thinking 24/7,Because Marc dose get in his head and he always thinks he's not good enough and that if something goes wrong it's his fault. I think when he's having a bad day and with his permission you lay him back and take his bad thoughts way with your touching.

He definitely has a mommy kink, like he might have almost called you, mommy a couple times but choked it back down. One day you're overstimulating/edging him and you tell him that you let him cum, if he calls you what he's been wanting to for so long and Your here and your gonna take care of him. When he finally dose it comes out as a soft moan/sob and he cums harder then he ever has after you let him.

He probably needs to be held after just to know your still there with him, that your still real just wanting to bask in your hold for a little longer.

Anyway I think sub Marc isn't used enough and the sweet moments after with him. Like I just wanna hold him and tell him everything is gonna be okay 😭

Anyway I hope my head cannons brought you some joy today ☺️

hey hey sails 🧡

(btw you spelled it right!)

thank you for sending these lovely headcanons in 🥺 it’s been quite a long week but reading this truly made me smile :)

anyway,,, big YES to all of these! there are definitely times when marc wants to be dommed by you. he loves and trusts you so much that he’s willing to be super vulnerable with you in the bedroom. sure he likes being on top, but there’s something about being as sub that makes him go wild. it’s one of the few times when he’s able to fully let go and allow himself to be taken care of. he doesn’t have to overthink things at the moment as you have control over his pleasure.

but ahHH marc 100% has a praise kink and he’s always eager to please you. when it comes to overstimulation, gosh can you just imagine all the begging? the whining and the whimpering? the moans that would escape his lips as he writhes under you? marc’s desperate to come but not without your permission, of course. then he calls you mommy while being reduced to a cry mess. at first he thought he ruined the moment but you smile, reassuring him that he’s okay and he could call you whatever he likes.

it doesn’t take long until you finally let marc to come and when he does, you could tell that it’s one of the hardest orgasms he’s ever had. afterwards, you shower him with kisses, fingers then lazily drawing patterns on his skin as he holds you close. despite how exhausted his body is, he doesn’t fall asleep until you do, and when he closes his eyes, he’s grateful how you’re both the last thing he sees at night and the first thing he’ll see in the morning.

again tysm for stopping by 💖

[the-sympathetic-villain]

You Belong With Me - Chapter 28

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description:  Much to his surprise, after being released from prison for a crime he  didn’t commit, Logan has been appointed as a the prince’s new advisor.  

Word Count: 6540

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Effects of poisoning, Overstimulation, Mentions of abandonment

-

     “He’s home, L.” Virgil mumbled into his shoulder.

     “What?” Logan glanced down at Virgil and swallowed anxiously, watching his friend struggle to walk down the narrow path. He gripped Virgil tighter, unsettled by how gaunt Virgil had become on the short walk from the castle.

     “He's—” Virgil inhaled with a pained hiss and his legs gave out. Logan stumbled, barely keeping both of them standing as Virgil’s weight dropped out beneath him.

     “Vee!” Logan breathed out urgently as he came to a stop. He wrapped his free arm around Virgil's chest to keep him upright. “Are you okay?”

     “Hey—don't worry, L. I'm okay.” Virgil smiled faintly up at him as he regained his footing. “Just hurts.”

     Logan’s chest ached with guilt as Virgil slurred his words with exhaustion. “I'm sorry, Vee. I should have—”

     “Don’t you dare apologize to me, L.” Virgil growled as pointed down to the path. “Patton’s house. He's there.”

     “Sure thing, Vee.” Logan whispered slowly, taking a long breath. Emotion swelled in his chest. Despite his current condition, Virgil still insisted on keeping an eye out him and that kindness was truly beyond his comprehension. He shook his head, trying to refocus. “Why’s he home anyway? Shouldn’t he be working in the greenhouses today?”

     Virgil hobbled along in silence for a moment before he letting out a loud sigh. “He's upset with me, L. We fought last night and he decided not to go into work today.”

     “What? Why?” Logan stopped in his tracks, his mouth hanging open.

     “That's why I was late this morning. Gods, what a shit morning to be distracted,” Virgil let out a breath as his face fell. “but I can't sleep for shit when he's mad at me.”

     Logan frowned, hanging his head as they started to move forward once more. He stared down at Virgil's sad eyes as he hobbled down the path. He'd never seen Virgil looking so despondent. Virgil was always so composed and it broke Logan's heart to see his friend in pain. “Why's he upset with you, Vee?”

     “I—” Virgil groaned, clutching his stomach in pain. “He's—he's right to be mad. I fu—I messed up, L. I've been keeping secrets that weren't mine to keep.”

     Logan squeezed him tighter, as they reached the stairs to Patton’s house. “I'm certain that Patton will forgive you no matter what happened, Vee. He doesn’t seem to be the type to hold grudges.”

     “It's—it’s not Patton that needs to—” Virgil mumbled, wheezing as he tool each step. They paused at the top of the stairs as Virgil caught his breath. “I'm sorry, L. Not now. We'll talk about this in a minute.”

     “Of course, Vee.” Logan put a hand  on Virgil’s chest, steadying him from both sides as his friend swayed, eyes closed as he nearly lost consciousness. “Whatever you need. I'm going to make sure you’re okay.”

     “I know, L.” Virgil looked up at him with a tired grin. “We’ll figure it out together.”

     Logan nodded seriously, watching Virgil fade in his arms as he clung to him side. He held his friend tightly, supporting him as he reached up to pound on Patton’ door. He took a long breath, holding his hand to Virgil’s chest as he listened to Patton moving on the other side of the door.

     Finally, the door popped open and Patton’s head popped out. His face scrunched in confusion “Lo—”

     “Hey, Pat."

     Patton's eyes widened as he caught sight of Virgil hanging off of Logan's are

     Virgil eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into Logan, but he continued speaking calmly. "I know you’re mad at me and all, but I could really use some help with—"

     “Virgil!” Patton didn't hesitate to rush toward him, sweeping Virgil’s arm over his shoulder as he helped Logan lift him. “What happened to you?”

     “Got hit with a minor dose of poison—” Virgil grunted, limp in their hands as they pulled him through the door.

     “What kind of poison?” Patton pressed, carefully glancing down his friend's fading expression.

     Virgil chewed his lips nervously, fighting to think through the haze in his mind with a sigh. “I don't know.”

     “So, you don't actually know if the dose was minor—” Patton chided. Logan couldn’t help but notice the edge in Patton’s usually chipper voice.

     “Well, I'm not dead. Am I?” Virgil muttered as they lowered him into the chair.

     “Don't joke about that, Virgil!” Patton scolded him harshly and Logan could see Virgil flinch at his tone.

     “Patton,” Logan whispered. “Perhaps now is not the time to increase Virgil’s stress more than is necessary.”

     Patton paused, looking down at Virgil. His head was bowed to his chest as he forced deep breaths and his muscles were tensed as the unknown substance flowed through his body.

     “You’re right,” Patton smiled sadly, kneeling down beside Virgil and brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Sorry, kiddo. I just don't like seeing you in pain and not being able to help. Poison’s aren't my specialty and if we don't even know what kind it is—"

     “Wait—” Logan interrupted as realization hit him. His friends stared at him in confusion as he started fishing through his pockets and carefully pulled out the small dart Remus had dropped earlier. “—Yes. We do.”

     Virgil's eyes focused for a moment as he stared at the dart with suspicion.  “Where'd you get that, L?”

     Logan looked up at his friends. They stared at him with wide eyes and he dropped his gaze nervously, closing his hand around the dart. His eyes shifted back and forth between his friends as he considered what he was clearly intended to do. “Remus dropped this at my feet before he left us in the corridor. You were unconscious, Vee, but he—he said he wanted to see if I was more than a one trick pony, which is a stupid phrase. Horses are clearly trained with more than one purpose in mind—

     "Oh, kiddo." Patton reached out to him to reassure him as he began to ramble anxiously.

     "—but perhaps, it is an accurate comparison because I'm entirely useless in this endeavor and—"

     “Stop, Lo. It's going to be okay.” Patton hushed him as he stepped toward him. Logan could feel a slight tremor in his lip as Patton gently touched his arms. “We're going to figure this out.”

     “Pat, he wants me to do the same thing I did for Roman,” Logan clenched his hands and gritted his teeth bitterly. “but I can't do it. I don't know how I did it the first—”

     “Hey, Lo.” Patton held a hand out gently, watching Logan's hand carefully as he slipped a leather glove off the desk next to Logan. He smiled gently at Logan as he pulled on the glove and held his hand out.

     Logan looked down at his white knuckles clenched tightly around the dart. He shivered, gently loosening his grip on the dangerous weapon. His muscles went limp with a new wave of panic as Patton took the dart from him. “I don’t know, Pat. I just don't know."

     “Good job, kiddo.” Patton whispered as he examined the dart. “ Now, Lo. Slow down. What don't you know?”

     “I don't know how to fix this, Pat,” Logan whispered as he caught a look at the beads of sweat forming on Virgil’s forehead as he shivered violently in the chair behind Patton’s shoulder. Logan dropped his gaze, ashamed of his own incompetence. “With Rom—" Logan's breath stopped as Roman's name passed his tongue and he had to stop and take a breath before continuing. "—W-with Roman, I knew as soon as I had the dart in my hand. There were complex procedures with precise measurements I needed to be sure the antidote was safe—" Logan glanced at the dart in Patton's hand bitterly. "—I don't know anything about this one, Pat.”

     “We're going to figure this out, Lo.” Patton put a hand on Logan's forearm. “You, me, Virgil and Roman are going to—”

     “Not Roman.” Logan interrupted abruptly, sucking in a breath as he crossed his arms across his chest.

     “What?” Patton paused, looking up at Logan. There was a long pause when Logan didn’t respond and Patton tensed, glancing back at Virgil. “What happened to Roman?”

     Virgil groaned, leaning forward in his chair. He propped his elbows on his knees  holding his head in his hands. “They've got princey, Pat. The fae that took Logan kidnapped him this morning.”

     “What?!” Patton straightened. “ What happened, Virgil?! Why didn't you—”

     “Patton, please—” Virgil whispered breathlessly. “Please—I can't handle you being mad at me right now. The king is looking for Roman. I promise I made sure someone was out for him before anything else—”

     “Oh, sweetie. No.” Patton spoke after a moment and kneeled next to Virgil, reaching a hand to his cheek. “I'm not mad at you. I know things got a little rough last night, but I’m not angry. We're always in this together, Virge.”

     “I did what I could, Pat.” Virgil wheezed between shallow breathes. “I did—"

     “Hey now. I know you did everything you could. You always do so good taking care of us and I'm so proud of you, kiddo.” Patton hushed him with a subtle smile. “Let’s get you fixed up. Okay?”

     Virgil hesitated before giving Patton a quick nod. Logan couldn’t help noticing the sunken look in his eyes as he finally took a breath. “I didn't mean to snap at you, Pat.”

     "You were hurt and I was making it worse. You had every right to tell me to stop, Virge.” Patton whispered with a smile, slipping a glove on his other hand as he looked down at Virgil. “Now, let's get this figured out so you're not hurting anymore. Okay?”

     “'Kay.” Virgil looked up at Patton and Logan could see guilt in Virgil’s eyes as Virgil choked in a strained breath. “Thank you.”

     “You've saved me so many times, Virge. It's about time I return the favor.” Patton smiled as he twisted the base of the dart. The mechanism gave a small click as the dart's chamber opened. He wafted the dart near his nose and a smile spread across his face. “and maybe this is going to be easier than we thought.”

     "What?” Virgil looked up at Patton and for the first time Logan caught his gaze. He shivered, staring absently at Virgil’s dilated eyes. The world fell away as guilt settled into his stomach, seeing the poison's process continuing to take hold of his friend.

     “Logan?”

     Logan blinked, coming out of a daze. He looked up to see Patton staring at him. Straightening up, he traced Patton’s arm down to where he held the dart out to him. He looked up back up at Patton, confused.

     “Smell, but don't inhale.” Patton instructed sternly. “Tell me what you think.”

     Logan eyes the dart suspiciously before leaning into Patton’s hand, letting the scent waft into his nose.

     Wait that's—

     The thought was abruptly interrupted as the overwhelmingly acrid taste hit the back of his throat. His face scrunched uncomfortably and he stuck out his tongue as he desperately tried to force the taste of his mouth.

     “I told you not to inhale, Lo—” Patton chided softly, pulling the dart back.

     “That's hemlock,” Logan choked out between breaths. “but there's something wrong with it.”

     Patton stared at him for a moment before wafting the serum past his nose again. “What do you mean? Hemlock smells awful but I don’t think there’s anything unusual about this sample.”

     Logan stared at the dart for a moment. He flicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, considering his words. “I am intimately familiar with hemlock, Patton. It's the most common poison in the meadows north of the castle. At the apothecary where I worked, I treated cases at least weekly where farmers brought in sheep that had accidentally consumed—”

     “I'm not a sheep."

     Logan abruptly looked down as Virgil’s pained voice interrupted his rambling and a wave of guilt washed over him. Logan crossed his arms and dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry, Vee. I know you’re not, but I'm certain this is wrong. We could—we could hurt you if we make the wrong decision.”

     Patton stood up, moving closer to Logan with a curious look in his eyes. “How sure are you, Lo?”

     Logan hung his head, clenching his hands around his elbows as he felt his breath speed up anxiously. “As sure as I was with Roman. Don't ask me how. I don't know, but I'm sure and I just need you to trust—”

     “Hey, kiddo.” Logan jumped as Patton's hand brushed his arm. “Why don't you take a seat?”

     “I can't—”

     “Sure, you can—”

     “Virgil—”

     “—is going to be fine.” Patton smiled patiently. “I know what we're dealing with and how we can figure this out.”

     “What?” Logan’s head shot up to him.

     “Sit down, kiddo.” Patton gently nudged him backward toward the bed. “We need to talk.”

     “Patton, if you know how to help Virgil, we should be helping him—” Logan resisted, trembling as he looked at Virgil.

     “I am, but I need your help, Lo. To do that, I need you to sit down and listen to me.” Patton smiled warmly at him as Logan finally relented and dropped down to the bed. “Now, I'm going to tell you something that's going to be hard to hear—”

     “Pat, is this really the time for this?” Virgil moaned, clutching his chest.

     “No.” Patton muttered bitterly. "The time for this was days ago when you figured this out, Virge."

     Confused, Logan looked up at Patton’s serious expression before turning back to look at Virgil as he deflated in the chair behind Patton.

     “Pat, you said you weren't mad—” Virgil whispered.

     “I'm not, Virgil. I'm really not. I know you didn't know what to do,” Patton sighed impatiently. "but this can't wait any longer. We need Logan's help and the only way he can help is if he knows what’s going on.”

     There was a long pause before Virgil nodded. “Alright, Pat, but I need to be the one to tell him. I want to make this right.”

     “What's going on?” Logan started to shake as Virgil stood up, groaning as he moved towards them. He sucked in a sharp breath, on the verge of a panic attack as Patton caught Virgil's shoulder, helping Virgil towards him. “What did I do—”

     “You didn’t do anything wrong, kiddo,” Patton smiled at him softly. “and none of this changes anything. No matter what you've heard from any of us. We love you and you always have a place here. You’re family, Logan. Forever. Okay?”

     “Okay.” Logan responded numbly. He stared at his friends and shivered, tightening his arms around his chest as Virgil stumbled his way over.

     A million worst-case scenarios pushed for attention in his mind as Virgil dropped down next to him with a grunt. Logan lifted his head and he could see his friend's muscles were tense from the poison, yet still, as Virgil looked up from the ground, Logan could see his intense focus overshadow the pain as he looked apologetically up at Virgil. “Lo, you got to know I didn’t keep this from you on purpose. I need you to know I trust you completely, but I wasn’t sure until just a few days ago. I—I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, L.”

     “Say anything to me about what?” Logan glanced nervously up over at Patton as he dropped down on his other side. He jumped as Patton put his hand on his back, not realizing how on edge he was. Patton smiled at him gently and Logan forced himself to relax as Patton rubbed circles into his back.

     “L?” Virgil waited until Logan turned back to him. “That first night after we met and I stayed with you at your place. You had a nightmare and I rushed in to calm you down. Do you remember?”

     Logan bit his lip, eyes flitting over to Patton as a touch of embarrassment burned on his cheeks. “Yes, I remember.”

     “It was storming that night.” Virgil continued, watching Logan's reaction closely. “Like a full-blown storm with lightning and everything?”

     Logan nodded nervously as his friends leaned closer.

     Virgil looked up at him seriously. “At the time, I passed it off as a reflection of the lightning, but, um—that night your eyes glowed, L. They glowed bright blue.”

     “What?” Logan opened his mouth to protest but his throat was suddenly dry and he couldn't seem to force the words out.

     “—and then again, after Remus got into your dream. It was storming and I thought I was catching the light in your eye when the lightning flashed and you needed help so I didn't focus on it at the time—”

     Logan tensed as Patton's hand stopped moving on his back. He slowly looked down at the ground, clenching his hands together as Virgil continued.

     “I didn’t know for sure until a few days ago when Remus dropped you back in Roman's room after they'd taken you. I stayed with you while princey and Patton ran for medical supplies.” Virgil paused, watching Logan’s expression fall. “When that amulet lit up and you got hurt, your eyes glowed. The sky was clear and there was no lightning for me to blame it on this time, L.”

     Virgil's implication settled uncomfortably in his stomach and his head fell to his chest, avoiding his friends' gaze as he felt his hands start to shake. “That's not possible."

     "Listen, L." Virgil flashed him a faint smile, wheezing as he rested a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “After you lit up Roman’s chambers in blue lightning, I think it's pretty undeniable.” 

     “Blue lightning?” Patton stared at Virgil in shock until Virgil smiled and nodded up at him. Patton beamed, gently wrapping his arms around Logan’s waist as he stared numbly into space. “Oh, kiddo. I don’t know how you don’t know, but you're an elemental fae—a storm fae.”

     “I'm not—” Logan shivered, suddenly cold from shock. “That can't be— How can you trust me?”

     Virgil gently reached a arm around Logan's shoulder. "Not all fae are untrustworthy, L. Some of my underground contacts are fae and I'd trust them with my life. Just like I trust you, L."

     Logan's shock was interrupted as Patton’s arms tightened around him. “Lo, this doesn’t change anything. You’re still the same person.”

     “But Roman—” Logan felt his breath catch in his throat as his muscles seized. "Roman said—"

     “Roman was blowing smoke because that bastard hurt you, L. Nothing more.” Virgil’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. “What he said doesn't mean anything. None of us are going to think any different of you, including him.”

     Logan stared at him for a moment before nodding and taking a breath, easing in his friends' arms. Leaning back into their warmth, he blinked. “How could I not know—"

     “I don’t know, kiddo, and we'll help you figure it out later.” Patton squeezed him tightly before sitting up. “but for now, we have to—”

     “I know, Pat—” Logan nodded, trying to shake the feeling of shock as he turned his head to Virgil. “What do I have to do to help him?”

     “The Master Botanist I apprenticed under taught me so much of what I know and she knew more than I think I ever will,” Patton smiled fondly at the memories. “But most relevant, she taught me about the fae. The fair folk are natural herbalists. It's in their blood. In fact, It's nearly impossible to poison a fae because they have an innate sense for the properties of flora.”

     “Get to the point, Pat.” Virgil growled, leaning into Logan. “Now's not the time for the long version.”

     Patton held up the dart and smiled at Logan as he sealed poison in its compartment. “I think his dart is useless. It's a decoy.”

     “What?” Logan put an arm around Virgil to steady him.

     "This is normal hemlock. I'm sure of it, L," He held up the dart. "I think it smells wrong to you, because you're focused on healing Virgil and Virgil was poisoned with something else. This dart was meant to challenge you by throwing you off the trail."

     "Patton—" Logan's hands were shaking as Virgil leaned tiredly into his shoulder.

     “I don't think poisoning Virgil was an attack of opportunity,” Patton paused. “I think that other fae wanted Remus to poison Virgil, so that you would be forced to use your power to save him.”

     “That has to be the poison. If that's not it, it could be anything.” Logan breathed. "We'll never figure it out."

     “No, it doesn’t,” Patton stepped forward. “because you can figure it out without the original poison. He wants you to use your abilities to figure it out on your own, Lo.”

     "Dee—" Logan shook his head, turning to look down as Virgil swayed, eyes fluttering closed on his shoulder. "You bastard—"

     “You need to use your abilities.” Patton pressed him to focus. "I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but you can do it, kiddo. You can save him."

     Reaching up to his chest to steady him, Logan turned sad eyes up to Patton. “I have no control, Patton.

     “You have to try, Lo. Those are the stakes.” Patton bit his lip, gesturing to Virgil. “You have to figure it out or we lose our friend.”

     Logan stared helplessly up at Patton for a moment before nodding. “Okay, Pat. You’re the expert."

     “Just focus, Lo. They wouldn't give you something they didn't think you could handle. He wants you to succeed.” Patton trembled as he put a hand on Logan’s back. “He doesn’t benefit from seeing you fail.”

     Logan nodded nublyly, focusing his energy on Virgil. He reached a hand down to Virgil's face, lifting his head. “Vee? Are you awake?”

    Virgil mumbled inaudibly into Logan’s hand, not opening his eyes.

    “I need you to talk to me, Vee.” Logan spoke slowly and clearly, trying to break through to his quickly fading friend. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

    “Tired…” Virgil muttered.

    “Good, Virgil." Logan swallowed nervously. "What else?”

    “Hurts—hurts real bad.” Virgil exhaled slowly. “Hard to breathe, L.”

    “Open your eyes, Vee.” Logan guided Virgil’s face up to look at him, but Virgil merely moaned. The lids of his eyelids flittered and remained closed. “Stay with me. I need you to fight it and keep your eyes open.”

    Virgil grunted, prying his eyes open. His fist clenched onto Logan’s shirt from the effort.

    “You’re doing exceedingly well.” Logan paused, staring into his dilated eyes. “I'm going to fix this, Virgil. You’re going to be fine.”

    “I know, L.” Virgil’s words slurred as he faltered, nearly drifting asleep before looking up at Logan. “I know you won't let anything happen to me.”

    “I won't.” Logan whispered, watching as Virgil limply leaned back into his shoulder. Virgil’s breathing started to slow as exhaustion settled in as he settled his whole weight into Logan’s shoulder. “I won't let any—”

    A soft snore from below him sent a sudden chill through his body—

    He can't sleep.

    “Virgil!” Logan straightened up suddenly as the thought echoed loudly in his mind. He reached up to Virgil’s shoulders, lifting him so that he could look into Virgil’s eyes. “Virgil, you have to stay awake."

    Virgil moaned quietly, but his eyes cracked open.

    Logan's grip tightened on his shoulders as he whispered frantically. “Vee, you have to stay awake. You can't sleep.”

    "Kiddo,” Patton slid onto the bed next to Logan. He gaze fell nervously on Virgil’s face, but he kept his voice calm, whispering to Logan. “Do you know something?”

    Logan glanced behind him, feeling himself shake as Virgil swayed. “We can’t let him sleep, Pat.”

    “You’re sure?”

    Logan glanced back at him and nodded before reaching up to support Virgil’s face as his head drooped. "As sure as I was with Roman."

    “That's good, Lo.” Logan could hear pride in Patton’s voice as he put a hand on Logan’s back. “Stay focused on that feeling. What else can you tell?”

    Logan sucked in a breath. Virgil’s mouth hung open as he leaned into Logan’s hand, murmuring quietly. “Patton, I can't—”

    “You can, Lo.” Patton started firmly, but Logan could here a tremor in his voice as he looked at Virgil. “He needs you. You have to do this.”

    Logan nodded.

    He needs me.

    He took a deep breath, turning to Virgil and his eyes dropped down. Slowly, Logan reached down and took Virgil’s wrist in his hand, pressing two fingers against the vein until he could feel Virgil's pulse against his fingertipes. He closed his eyes, feeling the blood move in Virgil’s veins.

    I have to help him.

    The air around him shifted as he took in a breath, catching a bitter scent on the air. He swallowed, disgust evident on his face as he tried to place the smell.

    “Patton, it has a bad smell.” Logan whispered, trying to remain focused. “It's not hemlock.”

    “Good job, kiddo Keep going.” Patton scurried off the bed toward his bookshelves. He pulled a volume off the shelf, flipping through the pages. “Can you be more specific?”

    Logan stuck his tongue out, tasting the air. “It's bad. Like rot—or waste.”

    “What else, Lo?

    The hairs on his arms stood on end as Logan leaned into Virgil. The sound of Virgil’s pulse echoed in his ears and he could feel the poison moving through Virgil’s body.

    Focus.

    The air in the room shifted and he feel his awareness expand. Vibrations course through the air and Logan could feel the world around him. He could hear the quiet chittering of a rabbit chewing on the grass outside. Dozens of scents wafted around him as the Patton's collection of herbs drifted toward him. Logan open his eyes and blinked. The world swirled with colors as scents danced through the air. Colors were brighter and more vibrant as his vision blurred before his eye. There were more colors, more than he could name.

    He nearly closed his eyes when a soft, yellow glow caught his eye. The glow radiated from Virgil’s skin as he stared. Curiously, Logan lifted his hand up, absently moving his hand through the yellow haze. Images floated through his head and he could see the image a small, flower in his mind. The blossom was pale green and shaped like a candlelight flame. Dark green leaves sprouted from the sides and the light-colored petals swept upward to form a protective hood around the small purple stem. Shivers slowly crept down his spine as he recognized the plant.

    Adder's root.

    Adder's root was certainly deadly. A single dose was overwhelmingly powerful and Logan knew even a minuscule amount could put any adult in the infirmary for days, if it didn’t kill them outright within a matter of hours. He knew he should be panic, but something was off. Logan passed his hand through the faint, yellow haze once more and a sudden realization washed over him.

    The poison is diluted.

    His muscles went limp with relief and he suddenly felt exhausted.  He looked up at Virgil as he whispered softly. “It's not a lethal dose.”

    Patton's head spun around to him as he latched onto the desk. “What?”

    Logan sighed with relief and wrapped his arms around Virgil. “It's not lethal. He's going to be okay.”

    A soft groan resonated against Logan’s chest and he could feel Virgil chuckle into his shoulder. “That’s great and all, L, but I still feel like crap.”

    “I know, Vee. I know.” Logan breathed with relief as he released Virgil. “I think I can fix that, too. Patton?”

    Logan looked to him for help but Patton had already swooped in on Virgil’s other side and wrapped his arms tightly around Virgil’s torso.

    “Pat, I’m having enough trouble breathing without you squeezing me to death.” Virgil wheezed with a smile.

    Patton’s grip lightened but he buried his head in Virgil’s shoulder. “I'm so sorry, kiddo.”

    Virgil paused, looking down at Patton. “For what, Pat?”

    “For being a jerk.”

    “Pat—”

    “Virgil, you were hurting and I was awful to you just now.” Patton sucked in a breath. “What if something happened to you?”

    Virgil straightened. His head cleared for a brief moment and he smiled at Patton latched onto his chest. “Pat, you’re acting like you didn’t know Logan was going to take care of me.”

    Patton opened his eyes smiling at Logan as he held onto Virgil. “I knew Lo could do it, but still, knowing I'd been so mean and I wouldn't do anything help you.”

    “Pat, it's okay. You were right to be upset—"

    “No, I wasn’t. Logan had a right to know, but I shouldn’t have blamed you for being cautious. I should have trusted you planned to tell Logan when you were sure—”

    “Pat,” Virgil wheezed with a frown. “Of course, I was going to tell him—"

    “I know now, Virgil, and I should have trusted you. You've never given me any reason to doubt—” Patton sucked in a breath. “If Logan hadn't been here to save you, I could have lost—”

    “Pat, relax.” Virgil smirked, pulling Patton closer. “I'm not going anywhere.”

    “No, you're not.” Patton smiled and took a deep breath. “Now, let’s get you feeling better, Virgil. Logan, what do you need?”

    “Just keep him awake.” Logan could hear the hum of the air around him as his senses flared with a new influx of information. “It's be best for Virgil to remain awake until the effects of the poison start to wane.”

    Logan rose quickly off the bed, glancing back at Patton. “I believe I can craft an antidote suitable enough to alleviate your symptoms until the substance leaves your system. Patton, may I use your supplies?”

    “Of course, Lo. Do you need help finding—”

    “No, Pat.” Logan hummed, blinking as colors shifted before his eyes. Standing next to shelves full of herbs suddenly seemed overwhelming. “I—um, I can see them.”

    Patton looked up from Virgil. “See what, Lo?”

    “The herbs, Pat.” Logan stumbled as a mix of scents hit the back of his throat. He gagged as acrid, bitter smells mixed with other sickeningly sweet scents in sent a wave of nausea straight to his stomach. “The—um, I can see a colored haze of each herb's scent.”

    Patton started to stand. “Lo, are you okay—”

    “I'm fine.” Logan interrupted, waving him away. He looked back at Patton briefly as he swallowed down his discomfort. “This happened last time as well. You just have quite a collection and its overwhelming.”

    “You—” Patton paused, letting Virgil lean into his shoulder as Logan pulled various packages and jars from the shelves. “You started seeing scents as colors in the air and you didn't think that was strange?”

    “More than that, Pat. Everything shifts. My senses are heightened and I can see and feel things I can't usually.” Logan paused, pressing the palm of his hands against his closed eyes as they ached with photosensitivity. I moment later, he forced them open again so he could work, irritated as he struggled with the seal on the package of herbs in his hand. “In retrospect, the pattern is obvious, but at the time I blamed stress. I thought the panic had induced some sort of synesthesia episode. That night I was not in a good place. I was scare out of my mind—”

    “Lo, you don't have to get into it.” Patton ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair, watching Logan grind at the ingredients.

    “I know. Pat.” Logan felt the air hum around him. Closing his eyes, he could feel the vibrations of the world around him, radiating out past the walls of Patton’s hut. A uncomfortable sensation crept across his body as overstimulation seemed to pull at the last shreds of his composure. “That—that’s not what's bothering me. I can rationalize my beliefs that night but—but how could I have been so entirely oblivious the rest of my life? It doesn't make any sense.”

    “I mean, if your parents never told you, how would you ever—”

    “I didn’t have parents, Pat. My grandparents raised me.” Logan resumed insistently pushing the pestle against the mortar as he ground the herbs. “Although, given the circumstances, it's likely they were not honest about my relationship to them.”

    “Stop, L.”

    Logan paused, staring down at his herbs as Virgil’s voice echoed in his ears.

    “Don't do this to yourself.” Virgil muttered breathlessly. “Don't go down that road.”

    “How can I not, Vee?” Logan's shoulders slumped as he resumed his work. Using the flat side of a blade, he began to crush the stems to draw out the small amount of liquid he need. The subtle rhythm slowly eased the tension in his shoulders until he finally sighed. “Everything I've ever known is a lie. No one cared enough to ensure I knew what I was. Even if the people who raised me didn’t know or didn’t care, clearly the people who were supposed to care, my parents, couldn't have been bothered to explain before they dropped like a sack of—”

    “Lo, stop. This can’t help you.” Patton spoke sternly.

    "Help me?" Logan muttered bitterly. “What would help me would be to know that someone in my damn life actually wanted me around.”

    “We want you around, kiddo.” Patton said softly. “Me and Virgil and Roman. We all—”

    “Not Roman.” Logan interrupted, keeping his head down as he turned to walk towards them. “You can't presume to know how he will feel when he learns what I am.”

    “I can, L.” Virgil’s hoarse voice broke the silence and Logan couldn’t help glancing up at him lying tiredly in Patton’s shoulder. “I know princey better than I know myself and you've got nothing to worry about, L. I'd stake my life on the fact the you being fae changes nothing in his eyes.”

    Logan paused, looking up at his friends as he sat down next to Virgil. “Thank you, Virgil. I appreciate your reassurances. I just—I know how selfish this may sound, but I wish I could hear it from him.”

    “It’s not selfish, Lo.” Patton smiled at Logan, supporting Virgil as Logan turned to face them. “It’s human—” Patton blushed as Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Oops, I just mean its normal for you to want to know what he thinks, but you don't have to worry, Lo. We all love you.”

    Logan paused. His lip curled into a faint smile as he lifted his head to look at his friends. He shivered as the air around him warmed as the quite hum of his friends' love filled the air. “Thank you, Patton.” He glanced down at Virgil. “Are you ready, Vee?”

    “Have at me, L.” Virgil smirked at him.

    “The taste will probably be quite unpleasant.” Logan smiled at him, slowly mixing the solution in his hand.

    Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought you hadn't made this before.”

    “I haven’t,” Logan smiled, slowly stirring the solution. “but I can smell it.”

    “Great. Well, bring it on.” Virgil growled, pushing up off Patton. “Nothing's going to disgust me more than seeing that rat bastard's face today anyway.”

    “Fair enough.” Logan smirked holding a spoonful out to Virgil. “One spoonful now and then another in about an hour."

    Virgil grimaced. “Do I have to stay awake for that long?”

    "You seem to be fairly awake at the moment, Vee." Logan tilted his head, looking him over.

    "The exhaustion comes in waves." Virgil muttered in irritation, running his hand through his hair as he swayed gently.

    Logan nodded sympathetically. “After the second dose, you can sleep but it would be best if you could stay awake until then."

    Virgil rubbed his temples in irritation. “I don’t know if I'll be able to do that on my own.”

    “We’ll help, Vee.” Logan reassured him.

    Virgil gritted his teeth and nodded, allowing Logan to lift the spoon to his lips. He swallowed it in one gulp, immediately gagging as he taste swept over his tongue. A retching sound escaped Virgil as he curled over on his stomach. Still tense, he glanced up at Logan. “Start talking, L. If you don’t distract me, I’m going to throw this crap up.”

    Logan froze, suddenly feeling the pressure to keep the conversation moving. “I, um—I don’t know what to—”

    “Figure it out, L.” Virgil groaned, closing his eyes. "I need a distraction."

    Logan bit his lip, feeling his mind go blank as Virgil put him on the spot. A moment passed before a thought crossed his mind. Something to keep Virgil focused. “Actually, there is something I've wanted to ask you, if you’re willing to discuss the topic.”

    “Shoot, L.”

    Logan shifted on the bed, watching his friend. “When I first told Roman about Remus, we needed to keep him silent. You called in a favor with Roman.”

    Virgil’s eyes narrowed in on him. “Yeah, I did. He owed me.”

    “You don’t have to disclose this information if you don't want to, but I am curious.” Logan swallowed, watching Virgil. “Why did Roman owe you a favor?”

    “Years ago, he asked something of me and he didn't have time to explain why he needed me to do it. I could have been arrested, but I did it for him.” Virgil smirked as he swayed, tilting back into Patton’s arms. “The deal was I'd do that for him, but he'd owe me a favor. Anytime and for any reason, I could call it in and he'd have to do whatever I asked of him without asking why."

    Logan blinked. “What did he ask you to do?”

    A smile twitched at the corner of his lips as an unreadable look crept into his eyes. The sight unnerved him, sending chills down his spine. “He asked me to kidnap a kid, L.”

    “What?” Logan froze, staring down at Virgil’s unsettling expression. “Why would you—”

    “Virgil, that's not really what happened.” Patton whispered and Logan let his gaze drift up to Patton's serious expression.

    Virgil shrugged, sliding back so he could lean against the wall. “If I’d been caught, that’s what I would have been charged with.”

    “Roman would never have let you take the fall for his decision.”

    Logan looked up curiously as Patton’s voice trembled.

    “At that point, it was our decision.” Virgil said offhandedly. “We both would have been punished.”

    “It wasn’t a kidnapping, Virgil.” Patton’s voice was filled with thinly veiled emotions and Logan could see his hands shake as he addressed Virgil. “Not when I went with you willingly.”

-

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[keanureevesisbae]

“The road to our forever” - Chapter 11

Summary: John and Darcie are planning their wedding, but it comes with certain ups and downs.

John Wick x OFC Darcie

Word count: 2k

Warnings: smut

A/N: @toomanystoriessolittletime​ told me that for her writing smut became easier the more she did it - turns out it’s true xx

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next Chapter

Darcie looks up when she feels John staring staring at her. He smiles, even though he just got caught. ‘Hi beautiful,’ he says to her.John is drained when they finally arrive back at their place. They stand in the master bedroom and while he tries to undo his tie, he watches Darcie taking off her wedding dress. Her beautiful body is now only left in white undergarment, with lace details. She never wore something like this. Sure, she has her fair share of underwear with lace, but the way her ass looks in this set, how her breasts fit perfectly in the cups of her bra.

She simply rolls her beautiful eyes, before chuckling. ‘Hi handsome,’ she says. She stares at him for a moment. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Just a bit tired.’

‘Understandable, it has been a pretty…’ She takes off her earrings, while she is looking for the right word to describe it. ‘Pretty emotional day.’ She holds out her hand and he doesn’t even hesitate to rush towards her. She pulls him in for a long kiss and says when she lets him go: ‘However, it was all worth it, because we are the Wicks now.’

John can’t help but smile like an idiot. ‘We are indeed.’

The two of them change into their pajamas (and with the hot weather, for John that’s just his boxers and for Darcie it’s just a simple short with a thin tank top—but John knows she’ll be out of those within fifteen minutes) and they go to their bathroom. No matter how tired Darcie is, she will and she must do her skin care routine every morning and every night. John stands behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and whenever she looks back in the mirror, he earns himself a smile from her. No matter how long they have been together, that smile of hers is the reason he wakes up every morning.

She is finally at the last step of her routine, massaging the moisturizer in her face. He loves it when she dresses up and seeing her in her wedding dress today, he fell even more in love with her. But when she’s dressed down like this, a simple set of pajamas, no make-up… It gives him more glimpses of the future. Maybe if they have a daughter, they can wear matching pajamas, wear matching hairbands.

John lifts her up, as if she would still be wearing her wedding dress and carries her back to the bedroom. ‘I’m glad we’re alone,’ he whispers, placing her delicately on the bed.

‘Really? And why is that?’ Darcie asks, propping herself up on her elbows.

‘Because,’ he says, taking place between her soft legs, his hands placed on her knees, ‘I like your family and your friends and the people we invited, sure, but I need you all to myself.’ John leans in, placing his underarms next to her head, making sure he doesn’t crush her underneath his large frame. ‘I feel like I should apologize.’

‘Why?’

‘Because of everything I did over the past few months and especially earlier today.’

‘But John,’ she says, her fingers running through his hairs, ‘you already apologized, multiple times. It’s all okay.’ She presses a kiss on his cheek. ‘Really.’ Her other hand is slowly stroking his arm, her nails grazing over his muscles. ‘But if you feel better if you’d apologize again, then I totally understand. For me you don’t have to do it. I know for a fact that you are sorry.’

‘It’s just…’ he starts, but he doesn’t know where to begin. There is so much he wants to apologize for. Not being good enough for her. Withholding information from her. ‘I’m sorry for not being totally honest with you,’ he tells her. ‘And I’ll be better in the future.’

‘That’s all I want to know and all I care about.’

John kisses her, Darcie Wick, his lovely wife. She’s officially his wife now, officially the one he is going to spend his life with. He buries his face between her breasts, leaving behind wet kisses. For a second he is worried that she is too tired after today and doesn’t want to do this after this exhausting day, but then she wraps her legs around his hips.

John pulls off her shorts and when her tank top falls on the floor, he admires her naked body. If he could, he’d kiss every little bit of skin, but his boxers are getting tighter. He shreds himself from his boxers, before he pulls her with her. He leans with his back against the headboard of their bed, while she sits on his lap. His thumb toys over her hardened nipple, earning him a strangled moan from Darcie. While he massages her breast, his tongue swirls around her nipple.

Her hips grind against his, as she whimpers when some tension is relieved. ‘My beautiful wife,’ he whispers against her sensitive skin.

Darcie reaches between them, holding his hard member in her delicate hand. ‘John,’ she whispers, causing him to look up. ‘I’ll forever love you, you know that right?’

He smiles and he kisses her lips. ‘Of course I know that, sweetheart and I will love you too, forever and longer.’

She brings his cock near her entrance and she lets it slide inside. She gasps as her tight walls are stretching around him. John brings his hands to her hips. ‘You okay, sweetheart?’

She sends him a look. ‘I’m not going to say it.’

‘What are you not going to say?’ He has a cocky smile on his face and Darcie rolls with her eyes. ‘Come on, enlighten me, baby.’

She sighs. ‘I’m still not used on how big you are,’ she whispers against his lips. Her hips start to slowly grind against his. She rides him agonizingly slow.

‘You can do better than this, baby,’ John tells her, his fingers digging deeper in her skin, probably leaving bruises. She rides him faster, while he leans back, admiring the view of her breasts bouncing up and down, right in front of his eyes. With his thumb he touches her swollen clit. Her nails dig deep in his chest, maybe leaving some slight scratches, but he has been through a lot worse and this is caused by the love of his life, so he doesn’t care.

‘Fuck, John,’ she moans out loud, throwing her head back. Her walls tighten around him and he clenches his jaw together. ‘John, babe, I’m really close.’

‘I know, sweetheart.’ He places his hand from her hip, to the back of her head. He knows by the strangled sounds she makes, she is really close and he kisses her deeply as she starts to shake on top of him. She sobs against his lips, riding out her high. She swats away his thumb from her clit, as she presses her chest against his, her face in the crook of his neck.

‘You okay?’ he asks, wrapping his arms around her, as her warm and tight walls are still around his cock.

‘I am,’ she pants. ‘Tell me, how do you want me?’

Maybe it’s because they are married now that she feels comfortable enough to ask him this question, maybe it’s because she really wants him. He never thought he’d ever hear those words leaving her lips. ‘On all fours.’

They barely do it like that, but after he watched her all day, he couldn’t help but fantasizing about taking her from behind. He has put the thoughts to the side the entire day, but now, he needs her exactly in that position.

She does what he told her to do. Her back is nicely bend, her ample behind sticking up nicely. He holds her asscheeks in his hands, pulling them apart. ‘Look at you,’ he whispers, but loud enough for her to hear it. ‘So wet and all mine.’

He guides himself to her wet entrance and she moans in the sheets, her fists clenching some of the fabric. ‘You okay, sweetheart?’

‘Mhm.’

‘You know what to say and I’ll stop right away.’

‘I know,’ she says and he can hear her smiling. His thrusts start off slowly, like they always do, but it doesn’t take him too long to speed up. Darcie lets out a cry, when John reaches down to assault her clit with his fingers. She screams out his name, but it’s yet again muffled by the sheets.

John gently pulls her up by her long black hairs, bringing her ear up to his lips. ‘Do that again, sweetheart,’ he grunts in her ear. ‘Let the neighbors know how who makes you feel this good.’ He sucks on the skin a little below her ear. While his left hand is still touching her clit, the other traveled from her hair to her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and index finger.

Her soft whimpers are nothing compared to the screams she let out a few moments earlier. He bucks his hips extra hard and can’t help but feel very accomplished that she is making this much noise. All because of him.

The room is filled with their moans, skin slapping together and the sound of her wet pussy. He is getting closer and closer to his orgasm, but he needs her to cum again, before he does. Hearing from her desperate cries and her ragged breathing, she is pretty close again.

Darcie leans against his chest and when he looks to the side, he sees the tears streaming down her cheeks. She clenches tightly around him, her hands finding his and she digs her nails in his fingers as she quivers and shakes around him. ‘Yes, sweetheart,’ he whispers against her neck, ‘let it all go.’

His sweet Darcie rides out her high, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop anymore. ‘It’s so sensitive, John,’ she cries out.

‘I’m almost there, Darcie, just a little bit longer.’ And ever since she told him she doesn’t want to use a condom anymore, he has sworn to himself he is going to cum inside her every single time.

Normally, he’d let her clit go. As her cries imply, she’s getting pretty overstimulated, but now he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop. These sounds she is making, it’s driving him crazy. And if she wants him to stop doing what he is doing, she knows exactly what to say. She has yet to use it, but she knows.

Her desperate sobs fill his ear and his thrusts turn sloppy. He spurts his cum deep inside her and holds her tired body against his, as he makes sure every drop is well inside her. He pants against her soft skin, before he gently pulls out of her, soft whimpers leaving her lips. She lays down on the bed, his cum dripping out of her, onto the bed. He takes place beside her, stroking the sweaty locks out of her face. ‘Sweetheart, are you okay?’ he whispers.

She smiles weakly. ‘I am, baby. I just think that I can’t walk tomorrow.’

John starts to laugh.

‘Is this how it’s going to be now?’ she asks. ‘You are going to fuck me like this, now that we are married?’

His laugh is a lot louder than before. ‘Well, if you don’t mind, we could spice it up a little.’

She leans forward to give him a kiss. ‘We should,’ she whispers. ‘God, I’m such a lucky woman that I get to be loved by you.’

He pulls her against his chest, her face buried in his neck. Her warm body against his. Her lips pressed against his skin.

‘I do think I need a shower, though,’ she admits, ‘and we should clean the bed.’

‘I’ll take care of that,’ John tells her. ‘You know what, I’ll draw you a nice bath instead. Then I’ll change the sheets and maybe I can join you in bath.’

She looks up. ‘I love you, mister Wick.’

‘And I love you, Mrs. Wick.’

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