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juvenillia · 1 year ago

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~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 04: bonding

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: Welcome back, todays chapter is a bit longer because it's a lot happening. I know it's still a Simon centred fic, but I want to have a whole plot with everyone in it. Let me know what you think, reblogs are highly appreciated

CW/TW: trauma, canon violence, torture, ptsd, guilt,

wordcount: 4k

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The night wasn't long, not like you could get a long rest anyways. It was quite early when you got up, put your basic fit on, and went off for today’s mission. It was the premiere with your new team. You weren't the first one arriving at the preparation room. Ghost was already here, putting his gear on. You eyed him from top to bottom. "Morning.", you said calm while getting your gear on. The man only nodded the slightest, acknowledging your presence. You wouldn't say you felt uncomfortable in a room alone with him, but the bare thought that he could easily tear you apart if he pleased was unsettling. Especially when you believed that he still must be mad about yesterday.

Indeed, Ghost was pissed, but not about the fact that you won this round. He respected you for your performance, but he was angry at himself. Angry that he let you push him that far. Angry that he wasn't really able to read you during the sparring. Angry that he was blinded from the situation and still angry the way that you treated his Seargent. Simon would never approve it for anyone to hear, but he loved Johnny, his easy and cocky side always entertaining Ghost. And watching how hard the Scot tried to befriend you, and you literally shoved him out of your way, that made Simon furious. Yes, he still thought you should be treated with caution. Yes, he would rather have stayed in their earlier constellation. Yes, Simon himself shouldn't care about it, and of course, Simon would prefer you not to get too close to them because he didn't trust you. But his teammate found quite a liking in you, no matter the reason, and Simon would not watch how you hurt his feelings. You were a threat, and you would stay that.

"Good morning.", Gaz was the next one to enter the dressing room. Both of you greeted him more or less silently. Soap trailing in just behind him, "Mornin." You could feel your heart slowly sink when he immediately turned away from you, moving to Ghost's side. It was what you expected and what was totally relatable, plus it was for the best of both of your sake. You turned your full attention to your gear, getting ready in time. Shoving all those ongoing troubles aside. Your hands lingered a moment onto a hard shell completely stained in black before you pushed it into a pocket of your vest.

Price entered the room. "Good morning 141.", he stated softly, already in full gear. "Morning, sir.", all of you answered. He looked pleasant around his crew. "Any questions before we head out?" - "Negative, sir!" So, you took off for your place of destination. Your mind was running over the plan again while sitting in the helicopter.

The mission should be an easy operation. There was a former military base that was used by the Russians some years ago. It was completely empty, but a reliable informant gave away that there were suspicious movements tracked down. The theoretical empty base suddenly got electric power. Your informant did observe the base for a few weeks straight. Nobody got in, and nobody went out, but the pure fact that the base got power again could gain your team the possibility to gather some important intel from the leftovers of the computer servers. Still, you needed to be careful. You never knew what you would expect for reality when entering an enemy base.

Gaz and Soap chatted gladly away over the comms. Gathering them a few comments from your captain. The Scot seated next to his Lieutenant and Gaz next to the Captain in the cockpit. Ghost was silent as always. He traded his skull balaclava for a black one with a divided skull sewn onto the material. Soap explained you a bit about his 'style' during your morning rounds. Your eyes lingered onto him, taking his whole figure in. His whole appearance ignited some high interest within you. After what you already learned, you weren't so different from each other. His eyes were distant, nearly blank. You supposed that he was also running through the whole process for today. You would trade your liver to get even a glimpse of an insight into his mind. As your thoughts roamed about the man in front of you, you simply caught yourself staring at him a bit too long, and just then, his eyes darted back to you, and your glances met.

Your looks were blunt, not knowing what the other could even think. You tilted your head away, not wanting to have this intense eye contact with him. This indeed made you feel uneasy.

It seems like it, that he could so easily turn his emotions off, if he even had them at all. You weren't so sure about that. He managed that with an ease while you tried to afford it so hardly. Your mind faded away to a time long gone forgotten, a time where you could easily switch it off. A time when you were a different soldier. Even a different person. Do you really wanted to go back there? Back then it was a downward spiral, and it took you so much effort to get out of it. Do you really wanted to waste all of his effort and turn again?

"Arriving in five.", you heard Gaz' voice through your earpiece. It stopped your thoughts from rambling and let you decide quickly that you couldn't show any weakness today. Especially not on the first mission, no matter how easy it was supposed to be. You needed to prove yourself. Your eyes trailed back to the stoic figure in front of you. You'd need to prove yourself to him because otherwise, this collaboration wouldn't work out.

"Sorry, Droplet...", you whispered to yourself before your hand found the pocket of your vest and fished for the cold and hard material. You pulled out a face shell made of diligent woven carbonate fibres. You set it in place and let the clasp close behind your head. You closed your eyes and breathed in the familiar scent, the air flowing through the mask into your nostrils. It covered the lower half of your face. Ending shortly above your nose. Both men across from you watched you without any further reaction. At least, that's what you thought.

The helicopter landed, and you went out to find the base. Carefully getting closer to the area just to see that it seemed to be really abandoned. "We need a way to get in.", Ghost stated while getting closer to what looked like a side entry. Gaz and Soap did examine the heavy metal door. "We could blow it up.", Soap stated while taking a closer look at the door. "Shouldn't be too difficult." - "Negative.", Ghost stated bluntly while keeping an eye out around. Soap looked a bit disappointed. The man just loved explosions too much. Especially when he was the person to carry it out. You walked along the wall that melted into the ground, pointing out that the base would be mostly underground. Your eyes scanned upwards and caught a little rusty plate.

"Captain.", you didn't yell but your voice was clear for Price to hear. He turned his head towards you and you also caught the attention from the Lieutenant and Soap. Gaz still invested with the gate. "Would you mind lending me a hand, sir?", you asked pointing your index finger up to your find. Price nodded and walked up next to you. You handed him your rifle before he bended his knees to make himself a bit smaller and holding out his hand. With no effort at all you took it and climbed onto his shoulders. Now high enough to reach for the plate, you took one of the smaller knifes out of the holster on your thigh to screw it open. Handing your Captain the plate down. Afterwards you reached to the new obtained edge to pull yourself up. Price helped you to reach it even easier. You pulled yourself into the ventilation shaft and made your way into the base.

"Skadi, you have ten minutes.", you heard Price's voice over the comms while crawling through the tight canal. "See you in seven.", you answered quickly.

Being small had quite some benefits. You could hide better, and you could reach places men like them could never fit in. Something you used to your advantage very often. Price went back to the gate where the other men waited and looked at him, just a few minutes passed before the gate clicked and a rusty squeak could be heard. You pushed the door open and was greeted with a pleasant look from your captain who handed you your rifle back. All of you headed in. To fulfill the operation quicker you decided to split up. You went with Soap to the right, while Ghost and Gaz went to the left. Price stayed at the surveillance room you found to collect as much intel out of there as possible.

You frisked the base without any problems. Going through room for room, finding some untouched hard drives you gladly picked up. You checked on each other through the comms. Nothing suspicious. Just as you entered the fourth room, you heard a little clink. It was barely audible. You could've easily missed it, but you didn't. It alarmed something in your guts. Soap roamed through the room like he didn't notice it but you weren't able to push that bad feeling aside. "Stay alert, Soap.", you cleared your throat. "Aye.", he looked at you and instantly focused on his surroundings. "Lt. Status?", he asked through the radio, but there was no answer.

You moved closer to Soaps side, keeping your senses up. "Your status, Lt? Gaz?", your partner repeated. There were only crackles coming back through the comms. "Dia-diag!" [God damn], he breathed out. Another crack from the distant. You pressed your gloved index finger to your lips, signaling Soap to keep quiet. The two of you moved to each side of the door that lead to the next room. The door opened and you could hear voices, speaking Russian in a muffled tone that you couldn't barely make out what they were saying. As soon as the door opened it was closed again. They must've disturbed your communication, but the rather important question was, where did they come from?

The two of you made your way up to the next room, carefully investigated to get a hold of the situation. Still, hearing some cracks through your earpieces. Making already possibilities out what the others were going through at the moment. Hopefully, nobody was injured, but right now, you had to get a grip on the situation around you first. It didn't take you long to arrive in a warehouse likely surrounding. Scanning the room for threats and people. You could at least track seven lightly armed people. But what kept your focus the most was a box with an electronic device. You pointed it out to Soap. It was a jammer, the device that separated you from the rest of your team. You really didn't want to open the fire, but you needed to put the jammer down. Communication was the number one priority.

Taking the jammer down without even one of the seven soldiers realize was nearly impossible. So, you needed a plan for a distraction. Drawing their attention somewhere else also meant that there was a high chance of attracting even further armed enemies to run over the two of you. Not knowing how many people were running through this hallways was mostly dangerous. Especially when you didn’t know in what state the other two teams were entangled. Suddenly, and without a warning the sprinkler went down what alarmed the soldiers in the room. This was no coincidence. It couldn’t be. You took your chance, prowling along the stacked boxes to get closer to the jammer. Soap staying close behind and focused to cover you. Just in case.

One guy stayed close to the jammer, two others in his instant reach. If you would take him down, the other two were on you within seconds alerting the unknown numbers of enemies in the area. While making out the best possibility you could hear a nearly inaudible knock. You tilted your head and saw a skeleton glove just around one of the boxes across the room. A quick trace of relieve washed over your face before turning your eyes onto his fingers. He pointed out with his gloved fingers two, then five and another four. You could see him move forward and your brain went into autopilot. You signaled Soap to take care if the jammer. Before your feet started to move.

It was clear to say that you were a professional, but working in such a rhythm with a person you didn't know at all was another level. Ghost and you moved like an unit, taking out one after one while Soap took care of the jammer. You weren't even questioning one move, your brains did somehow bond and you moved as if you shared a braincell. You wear stealthy and silent. Anytime you took someone down, Ghost was already on the person that could've seen something. Taking cover of each other until no one in this room was able to breath out even one word in Russian anymore. You were already surprised that a behemoth of a man like him was that fast, but that he was also that stealthy. You could see now, why his callsign was Ghost, it only made sense. You worked perfectly in tandem. Then you noticed another crack in your comms and Price voice rung through the earpiece. "Anyone, copy??" - "Roger, sir.", Ghost answered calm and quick, and with that you were back in the game.

From now everything went on even faster. You infiltrated the space quicker than you thought. Gaz worked on another computer in the warehouse while Ghost, Soap and you took out the last poor souls walking through that place until you made your way back to rendezvous with Price and Gaz to back out again. As silently as you came you left the place, leaving no one behind and Price made sure to destroy every hint that could lead back to your team. Not sure what of intel you gathered, but when they protected it that way, it must be important.

All of you made it to the evac point without a scratch. Price looked at all of you proudly while taking off with the heli again. "Good job team.", he told through the mic, and everyone looked pleased. Even Ghost looked somehow relaxed. "I'm very proud of each of you. Couldn't think of a better start.", he kept going and you could feel yourself growing relaxed. A common warmth filling up your chest. You barely forget how much you liked this feeling. Mission accomplished, the adrenaline still pumping through the veins, and the feeling to helped making the world even the tiniest bit better. Clear to say that you missed it, but you're were back here and maybe this new team wasn't so bad at all. Maybe you could grow with it and find yourself a new place, but only maybe.

"Yer thinkn' what 'm thinkn'", Soaps voice echoed through your head and the next thing you could hear was a sigh by your Lieutenant. "Usual place?", Gaz asked, and you could literally hear his grin through the headphones. "Sure thing!", Price only answered. This could only mean there was another team bonding activity to come. As soon as you were back at the base everyone got their gear off, took a shower and you all met up in front of the base. Soap and Gaz greeted you with a bright smile, Ghost only standing next to them, wearing a casual black balaclava. The question of how many of these things he owned crossed your mind. You couldn't help yourself and smile slightly back at them. You traded your casual combat look to an even more casual look. Still wearing your boots, one pair of your favorite jeans, a long-sleeved turtleneck, and a leather jacket.

A car came to halt, and you could see Price in the driver’s seat waving you to get in. Ghost casually took the passenger seat while Gaz, Soap and you got into the back. Soap taking the middle seat and as polite as he was, he literally squeezed himself against Gaz to not invade your personal space.

Within a half an hour ride where you already listened into Gaz, Price, and Soap gladly small talking you arrived at a small pub. All of you made your way up and took a table in the very back corner of the local. Ordering the beverages, you did favor and gladly talked about everything under the sun. You didn't talk much, more like listening to anything they would give away and you enjoyed this. You couldn't think back to the last time you were out with a bunch of people and felt so at peace. Especially enjoying a few good drinks while surrounded by men without feeling the pressure of social standards. Maybe you simply worried too much. Maybe, just maybe you could relax and just let things happen. Just maybe you could grow to find a strangely comfort within the 141.

The ability to be more talkative raised with every additional drink flowing through your system and soon you found yourself highly enjoying to gladly chat away over the most random topics. Like the meals in the canteen, workout routines, things you might noticed today during the mission. Even mocking Soap while mimicking his Scottish accent. Everything felt at peace for once. Even Ghost seemed to enjoy this scenery. “Sooo…”, Gaz exclaimed expectantly “I’m really curious. How did the two of you met.”, his eyes switching from you and Price. You were seated next to each other. Soap and Gaz across from you and Ghost at the head of the table between Soap and Price. Soap pinched Gaz into his side. “Kyle…”, he breathed out, believing that this information would be classified. Price let out a chuckle clinging on his glass filled with coconut water. Your head tilted in the direction of the oldest man, and you just nodded. Your elbow placed on the table, so that your head could rest into your palm. “Remember when I told you about the Malmö incident?”, Price looked at the guys in front of him and they nodded. “Where you were imprisoned in Sweden?”, Soap asked curious.

“Imprisoned, tortured and isolated in a shithole.”, you corrected him. “Bloody hell…”, Gaz let out with his mouth wide open. Even Ghost eyes were lingering curios on your figure. “You were in this together?!”, Soap asked with a high-pitched voice, nearly knocking his glass of whiskey over. “Uh huh.”, you nodded, your head still in your palm. “It was quite a bonding occurrence.”, the man to your left stated. “Never thought that shared waterboarding sessions could bring you so close together.”, you nearly laughed out while taking a sip from your glass. “Better than any couple counselling.”, Price added with a genuine laugh. Of course, back then you had nothing to laugh about. Tied back-to-back with a stranger of another military unit you didn’t even know, for three weeks straight without any hope to make it out alive. Either of you could easily gave the other away, even with fake information to save their own ass, but you held together.

Not saying any words than useless shit talking. Sharing information that both of you are British, which tea you would prefer during cold nights, which of the royal family you’d rather like to meet. Beside the endless waterboarding sessions, bone breaking noises and sore limbs, you kept yourself sane talking. A bulletproof trust building with any further day you had to spend more in there. After you found a possibility so slip out, you needed each other to be even able to walk out of there. To your fortune it was also the day the enemy hq was invaded by your former team and you made it out alive. With many new scars, and traumatic nightmares but also with a new ally. Price didn’t even hesitated for you to drop in the hospital, he offered you right there a place in his team. An offer you declined while you were steadied by one of your teammates. But you traded numbers and promised to reach out to each other if there was somehow help needed. Promised to have each other’s back even after leaving that dark place.

Price didn’t explain what happened in every little detail but rounded down about some things. All of the men around clinging to his words, and you always added like a little comment or nodded silently along. “Without that woman, I wouldn’t have made it, and I’m really glad that were now able to fight alongside each other.”, he smiled proudly while putting a hand on your shoulder. “Oy, zip it.”, you smiled while your cheeks turned slightly rose. Praise was never a thing you were able to process. The waitress came to your table and brought you another round of drinks. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol in your system blinding you, but you could’ve sworn that even the eyes of the Ghost himself were relaxed and slightly creased, almost like a smile would grow behind that mask. “To Skadi then!”, Gaz exhaled and raised his glass. “To the 141.”, you corrected him and raised your glass yourself. “Aye!”, Price and Soap joined in before you clinked all your glasses together.

“Can I ask you another thing, bonnie?”, Soap beamed at you with flushed cheeks and his drink still in his hand. You nodded towards him. “Why the mask?”, his eyes never leaving yours, but with his questions you could feel your face falter. The smile slowly washing from your face. “An old habit.”, was everything you said bluntly before drowning your drink. Soap immediately noticed the change in your manor and didn’t question it any further. “Maybe that should be the last round.”, it was one of the less things you heard your Lieutenant say for tge whole night in the pub. “Oh c’mon.”, Gaz tried to protest but Price also shook his hand. “No, no, our Lieutenant is right. It’s already late and there are some works ahead tomorrow. Waiting on your reports.”, Gaz and Soap sighed overly dramatic before heading outside. You trailed behind.

The drive back to the base was unusual silent. Soap and Gaz felt asleep on each other as soon as Price started the engine. You could only hear both men in the front from time to time talking about formal stuff. Your eyes were pinned onto the screen of your phone. You had opened a contact, a name you did read so often but not anymore for the last half year. Maybe you were too drunk, but maybe it was the right thing to do. You typed a message in, but before you could press send the vehicle came to a stop and you were back at the base. Ghost waking Soap and Gaz roughly up. You deleted the message and shoved your phone back into your pocket. That was a problem sober you should have to deal with and not the drunken one, who just wanted to fall asleep as fast as possible now, and that’s what you did. As soon as you touched your bed you were gone and for what felt like an eternity you had some proper rest.

taglist: open just lmk

@yyiikes @saffronimagines @originaldeerhottub @illuminwtesz

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bring-forth-your-justice · 2 years ago

Note

Can I request a fem!reader comforting Atsushi when he's feeling lime a monster? Please???

This took a little longer to put up, mostly cuz I got sidetracked but better late than never-

Note: might need a little editing

TW// Just sad thoughts

word count: 900

Kindness was something only afforded to the well-off, those who had a future, and those who had a choice.

Atsushi was neither.

A boy born alone was destined to die alone and lay beside souls akin to his. That was the only thing that he was granted at birth. At first he had no demands, no autonomy and no desire for it either. In a way he was content; in the sense that he felt such depths of despair that he knew there would never be anything better awaiting him.

No matter how many tears he would shed while in that deplorable excuse for an orphanage, he only chose to blame himself for ever being born. He could never ask to receive a sliver of kindness, not as long as he was who he was;

a monster.

Such thoughts left a mixture bittersweet tastes on his tongue, one in which he writhed in. When it settled in his mouth, refusing to leave, he took it as another punishment he deserved for being born.

How someone could love something as pathetic as him was a joke that even the lowest of scums would have dying in a fit of laughter.

No matter how long it had been since he left that damned orpahnage, regardless of how many people he had found who showed him love and kindness, regardless of intent, he could never push aside his resentment for himself.

He was born a monster, not a boy. At least if he were, he would be afforded that tiny grace. Instead, Atsushi would be damned for his entire life for being born as something that brought ruin and danger.

Constantly did he run a race against himself. Not only was he his own victim, but the monster that desired only his blood. A never-ending cycle; stretching on until the day he stops regenerating his limbs and elongating his own suffering.

He never asked for an ability that would bring destruction to everything and everyone nearby, including himself. It was the reason he wasn’t afforded even human decency. It was why no one dared to glance in his direction, yet eyes would continue to haunt him, watching him intently with judgment and the desire to watch him perish.

Sometimes all he wanted was to scream into a void of nothing,

“I never asked for this-!”

Again and again and again until his voice would give in and he would have nothing left of himself.

How long had it been since he grew to think of such horrid thoughts?

Did he ever love himself?

It was almost as if his memories were a barricade of what the world told him to remember. The torment, the suffering, the loathing. Lest he ever love himself or that beast that took respite inside him. Where were those memories of peace and comfort? He wasn’t sure they ever existed; but if they did, he so desperately wanted them back.

To change was all he could do now. It wasn’t too late was it?

Even if the world wanted him dead, he wanted to fight for a reason to exist. Even if he felt his thoughts slowly comply to the orders of the world, he would fight with himself for the sake of them, for her.

They say that only fools are satisfied, and he was no fool to give in so easily, not yet at least. Not as long as he basked in her brilliant grace which bubbled his heart away from the disgruntled waves that came to wash him away.

“Your ability is a grace my love, a grace made to protect you in the world. A gift only granted to you because only you can make peace with it.”

Her words rang out, a symphony awaking him from a self-induced trance. Her embrace assuring him that he had not yet departed from this world yet, and neither would he have to.

“You belong in this world, should you choose to believe it or not. Even if you deny its validity, know that you’ll always have a spot next to me.”

Was he awake?

How long had he been trapped inside his mind?

It didn’t really matter, not when those thoughts were as fickle and fictitious as the painted shadows he cast on those he was scared to touch. Once again, he chose to flip the page, one darkened by his mind, and carry on. Swinging her hand from side to side, he walked beside her, the shadows that trailed after him all burnt up and dried somewhere far behind him, to a destination unknown.

No matter how many times he fell to his thoughts, and his memories, and trapped himself in the depths of his mind, exactly where the beast could degrade his status as a person, she always found a way through that maze right to him.

In the end, he knew that one day both of them would rot away like fallen leaves, but regardless, all he desired was to live on frantically.

Shouldering their lives together,

Living on,

Even if he was hated by life itself.

#bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #fanfic #atsushi x reader #atsushi nakajima x reader #atsushi nakajima

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lightlycareless · 1 year ago

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Chapter 39 - thoughts.

Heya everyone! Back here with the latest chapter's notes :>! Sorry for taking a bit longer this time, I haven't been feeling quite well tbh (I'm a bit sick, and then I got that monthly visit wtf, and it's super hot again too!!! UGH)

There's nothing much to say outside of a few highlights here and there, and how I initially wanted to write one scene but didn't go with it in the end.

As always, I recommend you read the newest chapter first before continuing, also, no that great of a proofreading was done here 😅 but I hope you're still able to enjoy it!!

And without further ado, spoilers under the cut:

Things I wanted to show/clarify in this chapter: What really happened in Naoya’s mind when he was sick. Albeit a bit… rushed (or so that’s how I feel it went) I still think I managed to cover most of the things :>

So to everyone’s (or perhaps not lol) surprise, Naoya did remember most of the stuff that happened—Yep, even that promise.

Now, I was told that many would not take well the possibility of him denying it, so… I’m sorry to say that he had to act the fool lol. It’s pretty much true at this point that something did happen between his family and Y/N’s in order for that marriage to happen, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Naoya would suddenly go back on his words and just act like it didn’t even happen in the first place.

What’s worse (or commendable I guess) is that he tried to distract Y/N by “bribing” her with pancakes… if only his transgression wasn’t as awful as it was.

The whole thing was very tense afterwards, however, because of this, I think he finally allowed himself to be a bit more open about his feelings, like, actually reflecting on his actions. But he’s not quite there yet, as you saw in this chapter. He gets that he messed up, sure, but he still believes that she’s overreacting, and sometimes, even blaming others.

As stated, he doesn’t really get all the fuzz about being close to one’s family, just his mom I guess (and we all know how that went), but outside of that he’s like “Ah, whatever. She’s supposed to be most of the time with my family anyways.”

But of course, after having a relatively happy interactions with Y/N and then back to square one, if not worse… well, something had to change.

That had to be the biggest advancement in his character. In the previous moments where Y/N has been shown to be suffering, unhappy, so on and so forth, Naoya couldn’t care any less; He wanted to be the most detached away from that situation and jump back in when she’s in a better mood—but now, he’s all about seeing her get better; helping her get better. He doesn’t like the sight of her being sick, unhappy.

He’d give her the whole world if she asked for it type-of-thing, even willing to push aside his differences with Naoaki for her sake.

Kind of lol. Naoya is still a very jealous man indeed. Also, not all of the flowers were from Naoaki, just a few here and there, most of them were from her staff instead and one other servant that heard of her predicament and wanted to wish her a quick recovery, but in his eyes, it doesn’t really matter: if there’s one flower that came from Naoaki, that’s all he cares about.

The second advancement would be his opening up. The way he had to seek Ranta for the first time in his life just to talk about his feelings is something that had the poor kid rightfully surprised. And he doesn’t even know about the nightmare yet 😊 Not that I remember writing it anyways lol. I don’t think it’s something Naoya (or anyone really) could easily put in words, the emotional burden must be OOF.

I wonder what kind of reaction Ranta would have to that nightmare? He would be petrified for sure.

The third advancement would be related to the second one, and it would be Naoya’s initiative when trying to “mend” his mistakes with Y/N. Like, he didn’t even call Ranta for suggestions on how to win her back or something, although he did get some persuasion on his part.

It was mostly Naoya just… speaking from the heart if you like. As if he wanted to do things that he thought would make her happy. He didn’t even question them, think of them as silly or anything, he just did them because he wanted to (if only he did the other thing!!!)

This part has to be the saddest one of the whole chapter. Naoya trying really hard to make amends with Y/N and her simply not having it.

The worst one yet would have to be how she rejected one of his absolute favorites, his manga.

I had to make it nasty, at least what I thought nasty, and for me that was using one of the most commonly associated words when describing people who like anime: weird.

It hurt Naoya for sure to hear those words coming out of her mouth, it’s one of those happenings that if traumatizing enough, would push him to never open up to anyone ever again. But all I gotta say is that I’m not done with that aspect of his just yet 😊 and who knows, maybe they’ll connect about it in the future. And with her own likings too.

The flowers were obviously another thing that hurt the most when writing, and I was actually planning on making them sunflowers instead of roses to have a bigger emotional significance, call it a “coincidence” to the fact that Hinata literally means sunflower and this just would’ve pissed of Y/N even more.

The scene was going to develop something like:

If Naoya wanted to make amends, he should’ve at least had the decency to not gift you flowers that remind you of your sister—the one he had strictly barren you from seeing in the first place.

But I went for roses because I thought it would be a bit worse, considering their romantic significance and whatnot 😊 That’s the whole reason why she reacted so… crudely—because honestly, who thinks it’s a good idea to profess your “love” for someone that essentially hates you? Naoya didn’t’ do much thinking on that one, eh?

Finally, but not least… the confrontation. This must be the first time Y/N has openly told Naoya of the things he’s done to her—and believe me, this… certainly affected him. He was crying in front of her, and that’s another thing I don’t think she’s ever seen him do!

Unfortunately, it’ll pass undetected to her. But next time, it won’t 😊

TLDR:

Naoya treated the same situations from the past with a different perspective, when he was previously dismissive, if not completely detached, now he’s nothing but involved. Seems like he’s slowly getting… somewhere.

Y/N needs accountability.

And that’s it for this chapters notes!!! They’re quite short because I think I mentioned all of the things I wanted to in the chapter :> And there’s still more to come next one…

Honestly all of this is pointing to the next chapter, to the one moment I’ve been dreaming of since I literally started plotting everything. And I said before, I just hope everything comes out as expected!! Unfolds nicely!!!! If not :^)?

Anyways, these are just a few things that I consider relevant when writing the chapters, of course if there’s something else you’d like to know more about just let me know and I’ll try to do my best to answer!

As always, thank you so much for your support!!!! We’re finally approaching the sweet part of the story, I think hehe :> Can’t wait to show it!

Take care everyone, and hope to see you next update!

#thought series: first it hurts—

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konigenblobbity · 2 years ago

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Paranormal Encounters [Part 2]

König x Poltergeist!OC

Warnings: Fluff, gaslighting, concerned Ghost, cuddling, slow burn multipart series

Summary: A few months have passed since Katya and König first met. The tension between them gone by now, and König can’t help but become more curious about who she is… well was. Just as it gets interesting, someone intrudes on their privacy.

A/n: For the sake of this story, König stays at the same base as the 141 team.

It’s been a few months now since Katya revealed herself to König. At the beginning it was tense between the two of them, he still had to get used to the idea that he doesn’t know where she was at any given time in his room. Feeling uncomfortable most days knowing his privacy was no longer his own.

When Katya did reveal herself, she would often scare König getting him to grab at his combat knife. Each time she’d apologize while he just sighed, putting the knife away.

Due to the amount of times this happened, König summoned her out one day to make a set of rules for the two of them.

Katya was sat on König’s bed, as he stood in front of her holding a piece of paper. He held a pen in the other. “If I’m going to allow you live- well… reside here. I made a set of rules you need to follow” she chuckled at the change of word choice but nodded. He then began to read from the contract.

“Rule 1: you will not steal any of my belongings, if you want to borrow one you need to ask first. Rule 2: when you are in the room, while I’m here, you have to be visible. Rule 3: if you take a nap on my bed, just make it again afterwards. Rule 4: Do NOT scare me ever. Intentionally. Rule 5: you cannot be anywhere near me during training or missions”

Once he was done he looked at her, she couldn’t help but giggle as she furrowed her brows teasingly. “I shouldn’t scare you? What, do you frighten easily or something?” He couldn’t help the blush that dusted his cheeks, of course she couldn’t see it due to his balaclava but he looked away nonetheless.

He cleared his throat. “Nevermind that. J-just sign it” he handed her the paper and pen, she took it with a smile, signing it before handing it back to him. Her hand grazed his and a shiver went through him at the coldest of her touch. “Good” he was curt before walking off and putting the contract away in a drawer.

Now, the two of them found a comfortable rhythm. She was no longer scaring him when she appeared and he has slowly opened up to her, greeting her when he sees her. They would even sometimes sit on the bed together talking about their day, König telling her about his missions.

It became a daily routine, he’d come back to find Katya on the bed, relaxing, or napping, or reading a book. They would then get comfortable, maybe enjoy a coffee together if König grabbed them from the common area, and just talk.

“I’m glad that it went well König” Katya smiles as she sips from her cup. König nods his head before randomly asking “How did you die?” Looking her in the eyes, compelling unwavering. She clears her throat and puts down the cup.

“U-uh well… I died on a mission” she says shrugging her shoulders. Those words immediately peaked his interest, he shifted so he was facing her directly, now invested in her story. “You… you used to be a soldier?” She shook her head and corrected him. “Lieutenant actually”

“Really?” She merely nods at his question. “Wow. What have you been doing these last 3 years then? Were you just… alone?” at this question Katya pauses for a moment. Debating how much to tell him. I mean, it’s not like he could tell anyone… plus she had no one else she trusted anymore aside from him. Even if she didn’t trust him endlessly.

“Well… actually. No. Call it a ghost task force” she chuckles, swirling her cup of coffee, watching the liquid swirl slowly. “Found me a week or so after I died, and since then I’d been a part of their team. That was until… I decided to leave. Even if they wouldn’t let me. I had to” her expression drops, recalling what became of her after she died.

His eyebrows furrowed at her words. “What do you mean? You had to? And why wouldn’t they let you?” He was only more curious and had so many questions but before she could answer them, there was a knock on the door, he looked at it, turning from Katya, watching it open slowly. In walks Ghost with a confused expression.

“Hey König… who are you talking to?” This question causes König to look back to where Katya was sitting, seeing that she vanished. “O-oh I was talking to…” König tried to think of an answer before looking back at the Lieutenant. “Myself” he decides to say but Ghost looks unconvinced, making it clear when he says “I heard another voice. A… female voice” König only shrugs. “Alright then… I’ll go” Ghost then begins to turn.

König’s eyes then shift to look behind Ghost, where he notices a hand phase in reaching towards the knife in his pocket. König stands up quickly as he shouts out “NO! Don’t do that!” Causing the hand to quickly phase away again. But also Ghost to turn back around in shock.

“W-What? Why?” Ghost stops dead in his tracks but König then awkward chuckles before saying “nothing! I thought I saw uh… I thought…” he couldn’t think of an excuse so he just settled on an awkward shrug causing Ghost to eye him up and down. “Get some rest. You had a tough mission today” and he then leaves the room.

König sighs before sitting back down on the bed. He notices Katya phase back so he can see her. She’s blushing and just floats in the air in front of him. He looks up at her shaking his head “You can’t do that, Ghost would’ve felt your presence in a heartbeat” making eye contact with her.

She floats down to stand in front of him. She shrugs with a cheeky smile simply saying “Even if he did, it’s not like he can hurt me” She had a point. But König looks at her unimpressed, she sighs and then nods, letting her smile drop slightly. “Alright. I won’t do it again. I just wanted to see his knife…” König looks at her, tilting his head.

“Why?” At his question Katya shrugs, floating back over to the bed. “It’s identical to the one I had. The serrated blade, leather handle, gold embellishments” She sits back down on the chair, crossing her legs and looking at her lap.

“When you’re a soldier so long, it’s the only thing you can really fidget with whenever you’re bored” Katya let’s out a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “I get it. It only feels like another limb to me now” König says in a soft voice, hoping to ease her discomfort. She looks up at him and smiles.

“I’m guessing it didn’t stay with you once you died?” He goes on to ask and she just shakes her head. “Only thing I kept was my body and the clothes I died in” he looks down at her clothing, noticing how it was regular clothes… not military gear. ‘She said she died on a mission…’ He furrowed his brows as he thought to himself, intending to ask her about it.

But as he looked back up at her face, he noticed her unease, recognizes her growing discomfort from talking about her past. He just nods his head and decides to save his other questions for another time. He watches her grab for her coffee before shifting on the chair, trying to get comfortable.

“How about we watch a movie hm?” He wants to remove the tension from the air, thinking a little down time was perfect for that. Katya looks at him before thinking for a moment, she then gives a smile “That sounds great” He nods and reaches for the remote for the tv in his room.

He notices her shift again and then pats at the open space on the bed. “It’s more comfortable” at that she just smiles and floats over to sit next to him. When he felt her cold presence, he scooted over slightly to give her more space. “What movie?” He asks her but she just shrugs, taking a sip from her drink.

“Anything released in the last 3 years? I haven’t really been able to keep up with any new movies” She spoke with a joking tone and he nods, after selecting a movie they sit an watch till they’re about a quarter of the way through.

The whole time he was debating whether to ask her for a favor… not wanting to make her uncomfortable with such an odd request. After a while he decides to simply do it, because what does he have to lose. He turns his head slightly, not enough to look at her but enough to signify he was talking to her.

“Hey Katya…” he begins to say and she looks at him, waiting for his next words. “Remember the day we first met?” He spoke quieter than usual, as if unsure whether he should even be asking this from her. She was taken aback but nods hesitantly.

“Could you… give me a massage? Like you did that day?” He paused for a moment, waiting nervously for her response. Katya smiled and nodded “Of course König, it’s the least I can do” before floating up into the air slightly, watching as König scoots forward on the bed giving her space behind him.

She floats behind him, moving higher up in the air, in order to be able to see the tv over his large figure. While he waited for her to position herself he shifted in his spot anxiously. Before she can begin, he suddenly asks “s-should I take off my gear?” A blush creeping up his neck, onec again not wanting to make her uncomfortable with the situation.

“No, that’s alright” she reassures him before placing her hands on his shoulders, phasing them through the gear to touch his bare shoulders. They’re cold, causing him to tremble slightly, but they feel soft and gentle against his skin. He relaxes under her touch. Her hands able to massage into his muscles expertly.

“Mmmmm…” König can’t help but groan out as he feels the tension in his body leave him, only making Katya more comfortable and confident in her efforts, digging her thumb into where she can feel a knot of tension. When she presses against it he can’t help but flinch lightly and groan out loudly.

“G-god… right there” he says softly making her smile. She continues to massage him, feeling him relax slowly. Even noticing how his eyes closed, completely entranced in the feeling of her touch. She was just glad that he felt comfortable enough to ask her for this. She wanted to help him… I mean, he was letting her stay in his room for free always checking in on her.

As time passed she could feel König lean back towards her, she then slowly phased her body into the bed. Allowing his body to fall and rest again his bed. She massaged him a little bit more until she heard his soft snores and his heavy breathing.

At that, she floats out of the bed, turning off the movie, pulling the blanket over him, and then going to lie on the bed next to him. As she lies there, silently watching this behemoth of a man, who she’s sure has killed hundreds of people, sleep so peacefully… she couldn’t help but feel at peace.

As the seconds past she scooted closer and closer to him. Feeling the heat practically radiate off him, she suddenly felt very cold. Well… she always felt cold but right now she felt cold and alone.

“He won’t mind if I…” she thought and slowly shifted to lie right next to his body, carefully resting her hand on his chest and throwing a leg over his own. Trying her best not to wake him up and hoping her cold presence won’t do the same. She let out a soft breath as she was finally comfortable, before closing her eyes.

She can’t help but feel that she found a new home… glad she was able to escape her old one. “I think I’ve found my Token… it’s you König” If only the others could see her now.

#konigenblobbity #cod modern warfare #fanfiction #modern warfare fanfiction #konig cod #konig modern warfare #konig fic #konig x oc #konig call of duty

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chaosresolve · 2 years ago

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✿ ♬ ☾

✿ : My muse and nature. (If they are an ‘outdoorsy type’, like the sound of bird’s singing, if they have never set foot in a forest, e.t.c.)

Shadow loves nature. He feels he owes it to Maria to experience it & respect it -- and in his free time, when his phone becomes mysteriously unreachable, he's often chaos controlled himself & Rosemary to the middle of nowhere to see a sight that she told him about. Either from a geography book, somewhere she pointed at from the sky above, or just somewhere he thinks she would've liked. You could argue the enjoyment of it isn't for his own sake, sure, but it brings him a sense of closure and peace, and that's enough for him.

♬ : My muse and music. (What type of music they like listening to and in what context, what music they would never listen to, e.t.c.)

Music isn't something he's terribly picky with, but that's mainly because he's unfamiliar with modern music as a whole (Taylor Swift aside. Thanks Amy!). Songs that are deeply familiar to him are rock & roll hits from the 50s, but he often struggles to listen to them. They make his heart ache for... Something. A memory slightly out of reach.

☾ : My muse and sleep. (How much they sleep, how much they wish to sleep, if there is something that never fails to put them to sleep, e.t.c.)

Shadow is a terrible sleeper. Tossing & turning and easily disturbed with frequent nightmares to boot -- it's a blessing that he only needs a few hours on average. He will deny it until he's blue in the face, but having someone to sleep next to -- be it a person or his chao -- makes it so much easier for him, too.

He tries to aim for at least 3-4 hours per night, though if he has to go longer without any, his maximum before he starts to struggle is around 3 days. After then he starts to lose the thread juuuust a little. The longer he stays awake, the more he has to sleep afterwards -- Rouge once saw him pass out for 18 hours straight after a mission. Zzzzzzz.

#█ HEADCANON : CAN YOU SEE ALL OF ME ✦#[[ love u. sonic needs to teach him gardening ]]

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mentalpolaroids · 2 years ago

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Sounds of sleep

[gif creds @steverobin]

Steve Harrington x female!Henderson!Reader

Summary: Reader and Steve spend a Friday night “babysitting” and they all end up falling asleep in the living room, only, nobody can get any sleep because Steve is snoring incredibly loud... Except for reader, who's completely used to it

Warnings: swearing, implied smut (but not really)

“For fucks sake Dustin, you’re supposed to share the chips!”

“Can you not curse in front of my brother?”

“You’re aware your brother curses more than I do, right?”

(y/n) rolled her eyes even knowing Steve was right.

“Just don’t tell my mom that, she thinks he’s a saint.”

“Copy that.”

It was Friday night, and after a lot of begging from Dustin, who insisted on having the party’s casual sleepover at his house that week, (y/n) was a spilled soda away from regretting not saying no to their mom. Ms. Henderson went to spend the night at a friend’s house and although she was okay with having her son’s friends over, she was paranoid about them being left alone, and the poor sweet woman didn’t have the heart to say no to Dustin’s innocent toothless smile so the only way to put her mind at ease was to ask her oldest child to stay home and take care of them. It wasn’t worth it trying to fight the woman on that, (y/n) was mad about having to cancel her plans with Robin and Nancy, a girls night they had been planning for so long because the three girls were always busy and their schedules very rarely conjugated with each other, but she had the next best thing to make her night less sufferable: Steve Harrington, her best friend and now apparently also Dustin’s best friend, a fact she was still trying to accept.

Not that (y/n) despised how her little brother could so easily steal Steve’s attention from her, she honestly thought it was adorable to see the lady’s man show his soft spot for the kids, she was just still getting used to the fact she no longer could have him all to herself when he was over. But what enraged her the most, in a nice but painful way, was how all of that just added to (y/n)’s growing romantic feelings for Steve.

So, aside the chaos Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Will installed in the house while Max and El looked at them probably wondering how and why they were friends with them, (y/n) was happy to have Steve there with her and for getting to spend time with him, dismissing the fact she would end up sharing him after all.

“Alright, guys, the snacks have to last all night, okay?” (y/n) tried her best to put authority in her voice but the only people who seemed to listen to her were Will, El and Max, “Dustin, you heard me?”

“Yeah, I did, but you could’ve bought more chips, you know?”

“Yeah, well, eight bags was the best I could do.”

“Steve bought ten last time.” Lucas pointed out, earning a non threatening death glare from (y/n).

“(y/n)’s in charge this time so if you shitheads could please do as she says that would be great.” Steve intervened, even though he knew the boys appreciated the effort the older Henderson was putting into their movie night, he knew there was so much his best friend could take from their jokes and teasing before she snapped. He felt bad already for her for canceling her girls night, so he would do his best to make sure she had the best time possible.

(y/n) thanked Steve, a ping of annoyance in her tone, and turned around to go get another bag of chips and prepare the popcorn bowls. The boy followed her to the kitchen to help her.

“You okay?” he asked, studying her unreadable features.

Without looking at Steve, (y/n) answered, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, maybe because you had to play babysitter on your only day off this week when you already had plans?”

“You make it sound like it’s torture to look after my little brother.” she chuckled.

“I’m not saying that,” he squeezed her shoulders in comfort and he had to hold back a curse when he felt the built up tension in her muscles, “you were so excited to finally have some free time to be with your friends and fuck, you deserve to have fun and rest once in a while too, you know?”

“And I get to rest tonight, we’re watching a movie.”

“Okay, fine, whatever.” defeated, Steve’s hands kept moving over (y/n)’s shoulders and when he heard her groan, he moved his movements to the back of her neck, “I’m just saying, you don’t have to pretend you’re not tired as hell. I’m here, I can look after the kids for you, I do that pretty much everyday already, it’s no big deal.” he kissed the top of her head, “You can go rest.”

(y/n) sighed. She knew he was right. She had been anticipating that night for so long and now she couldn’t have it. But what Steve didn’t know, and (y/n) wasn’t exactly planning on telling him that, was that his company, just him being there and, oh God, him touching her like that was almost as good, if not better, than her canceled plans.

“You just want the popcorn all to yourself, admit it.” she joked, turning around and pinching his belly. Steve smiled and pinched her back.

“Yup, you got me.”

“Come on,” (y/n) grabbed the bag of chips with one hand and two cans of Coke with the other and waited for Steve to get the bowls of popcorn, “let’s crash their party.”

“Okay so,” Max started, removing the pillow from her head that she was using to cover her ears, “any volunteer to suffocate Steve with this pillow or can I go?”

“He’s annoying even when he’s sleeping.” Mike added, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

“How is (y/n) sleeping so peacefully?” Lucas pointed at the girl serving as a pillow to the owner of the loud snoring that, to everyone’s surprise, didn’t seem to be bothering (y/n) one bit.

They had gotten their sleeping bags, pillows and a ridiculous amount of blankets (y/n) insisted were not necessary ready before starting the movies, agreeing that someone would probably end up falling asleep earlier and it was easier if they all just crashed together in the living room. (y/n) and Steve weren’t planning on going all the way to the end of the movie marathon so they took the couch, but apparently it ended up being way too comfortable, especially with how tired (y/n) was, because the pair were the first ones to get knocked out. And if there was any doubt if they were actually sleeping or not, Steve’s loud snores gave away the answer.

“They sleep together all the time, she’s probably used to it.” Dustin explained with his eyes closed, almost as if he was forcing himself to fall asleep. Silence followed after what he said which led him to open one eye to see why everybody went quiet.

“I don’t remember Steve mentioning he and (y/n) were dating.” Max spoke, “I mean, I always expected to go deaf from hearing him talk about his girlfriend whenever he finally got one.”

“He already talks about her all the time though.” Will added and the others nodded in agreement.

“Oh they’re not dating.” Dustin clarified, but he was well aware both his sister and his friend were dying to get together. Their pining over each other was noticeable to everyone, even the kids, except for the both of them, “Steve just sleeps over all the time and he sleeps in (y/n)’s room.”

“And your mom lets him?” Mike asked, impressed that Ms. Henderson would allow a boy to stay over, and in the same room as her daughter, when he had witnessed his mom flip so many times when she suspected a male presence in Nancy’s room. And he couldn’t forget all the threats he received from Hopper everytime he went to see El.

“(y/n) can be very persuasive, and my mom,” he kissed his fingers and pointed them to the roof, “bless her innocent soul, falls for it every time. And come on, we all know the effect this bastard”, he pointed at Steve, “somehow has on women and I guess my mom is no exception. Like I said, bless her innocent soul.”

“I think they’re cute.” El commented, smiling in admiration as she looked at the way Steve had his head on (y/n)’s shoulder and cradled her arm like a plushie, and her head rested on top of his and her hand was resting on his tight.

“It would be even cuter if Steve wasn’t shaking the roof with those pig noises.” Max complained and layed back down, this time using two pillows to cover her ears.

“Just wake him up.” Lucas told Dustin, who immediately refused.

“No way I’m risking my life waking him up.”

“Then wake up your sister and she’ll do it.” Mike suggested before letting out a long yawn.

Dustin sighed and crawled to his sister. He shook her knee in an urgent way, as if desperate to end the torture that was Steve’s sleeping sounds. (y/n) stirred a bit and snuggled more against her best friend while letting out a lazy What?.

“Steve’s snoring.”

“I know.” she replied, not bothering to open her eyes.

“Wake him up!”

“Why?”

“Because we want to sleep and we can’t!”

(y/n) groaned in annoyance and finally opened her eyes in a roll at her brother.

She carefully lifted Steve’s head from her shoulder and pinched his cheek.

“Hey, idiot.” she called, “Wake up.”

The boy groaned and, like (y/n) did earlier, the only movement he did was snuggle more into her.

“Come on, let’s go to my room.” she patted his tight the best she could considering Steve was still holding onto her arm.

He replied something along the lines of Fine, at least it was what (y/n) could make out from his muffled voice against her shoulder.

The two got up, one a bit less tired than the other, and made their way to (y/n)’s room.

“Goodnight children.” she said with her back turned to them, a tired Steve following her as he waved to the kids, more asleep than awake.

As (y/n) closed the door to her room, she almost jumped at the sound of Steve plopping down on her bed, who groaned with the impact.

“Hey, don’t be taking up the whole bed.” she complained with a smile on her face.

“As if you wouldn’t totally sleep on top of me.”

(y/n) wasn’t sure in what way he meant that, but she wouldn’t deny either option. Not out loud, of course, if there was something she refused to do around her best friend was build up his ego even more. And, of course, let him know that he did have an effect on her. The Steve Harrington effect. But what was so special about her situation was that she knew she got to see a side of him no other girl in Hawkins had, and there was a very specific type of charm Steve had reserved just for (y/n), because no other girl in that cursed town had the same effect on him that she had. They shared a mutual fixation for each other, and whether they acknowledged it or not, it was undeniable.

“I think it’s the other way around, Harrington.”

“I won’t deny that.” Steve turned on his back and finally made some space over the sheets for (y/n) to lay down. But not that much, because he was serious about wanting her on top of him, and he made it known by opening and stretching his arms so she could crawl between them.

(y/n) did so with no hesitation or remark, it wasn’t known if it was her sleepy brain or her tingling heart that made her lay down on his chest with such ease, like it was routine. Which it was. The sensation of Steve’s arms holding her tight, their chests pressed against one another with their breathing in sync, their legs getting more tangled the more time passed, the more they couldn’t get enough of the proximity that always felt too much even when not even a breeze could pass between their bodies.

“Thank you for coming tonight.” (y/n) spoke after a few long minutes in silence.

“You don’t ever have to thank me for coming to the rescue.” Steve readjusted himself a bit so he could turn on his side and face her, “And you sure don’t have to thank me for coming to hang out with you, that’s like, the best part of my days.” he smiled.

“You’re so corny when you’re sleepy.”

“Actually I’m corny all the time,” he kissed her forehead, “and it’s all your fault just so you know.”

“Oh really now?” (y/n) chuckled, hiding her face in the confined space between his neck and shoulder.

“Yeah, really.” Steve smiled widely at the way her breath tickled his skin and he couldn’t help but squeeze her body impossibly closer to his and he felt this urge to kiss her all over. So he started with moving his head down to kiss her on the cheek, then her jaw, neck, until he reached the collar of her sweater and moved back up to her temple, allowing his lips to linger there. For a second he second guessed if that was okay, if maybe he was crossing a line, but then (y/n)’s hand crawled up from between their bodies and held his jaw, her thumb caressing his cheekbone. Steve pressed his face closer to her touch, which led to his other cheek to press against hers and he felt a fiery chill in his chest when he realized how close their mouths were.

They stayed like that for a minute, both waiting to see who would make the move first. (y/n) did, the only thing going through her mind being fuck it, I need him. But before she closed the only inch separating their lips, she met his gaze, confident but nervous enough to not want to ruin anything, so she asked the silent question and a tug at her waist and the way Steve’s dilated pupils stared back at her was the answer she needed.

The kiss started slowly, a testing of the waters, a reality check. Then Steve gently pushed (y/n) on her back and his hands started to explore her hips and waist under her sweater at the same time his tongue passed through their lips. At a bite of his bottom lip, (y/n) caressed his back as she lifted Steve’s shirt and a groan left his lips. Taking a much needed break from the kiss to remove the piece of clothing, the boy looked down at his best friend and did the same to her sweater.

“Is this… okay? Like, should we be doing this?” he asked, his uncertain question not being a match to his actions. His lips attached to her collarbone and his hands crawling under her to reach her back making it hard for (y/n) to concentrate on what he was saying.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I want to. Fuck, I want to, just…” Steve looked at her.

“We can talk about it later.” (y/n) suggested, not too worried about the aftermath of what was about to happen. It was something both knew was going to happen sooner or later.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Just…” she pushed him a bit, indicating for him to lay down, “stay quiet, you don’t wanna wake up the kids again.”

(y/n) positioned herself on top of him, leaning down to go back to kissing him while her fingers followed the trail of hair from his chest to his stomach.

“I’ll do my best.”

................................................................................

author’s note: So, this is my debut writing for Stranger Thing, so please go easy on me. I hope I did Steve Harrington justice, I haven’t written in a long time, this is my comeback (and with a new fandom) so this isn’t my best work but I had so much fun writing this and I hope you had fun reading it! Any feedback and (nice) constructive criticism is welcome 🥰

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #friends to lovers

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nettleshuttle · 2 years ago

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the more i think about it, the more certain i am that dm’s bakura and malik are easily the best ygo antagonists/villains

malik has a huge importance plot-wise and can actually play the damn card game. the decks he uses, first slifer and then ra, are cleverly managed and both give the good guys quite the scare. the typical revenge-oriented villain trope does determine much of his motivation, but the interesting twist is how he actually strives for groundless payback after putting all the blame on the pharaoh — he needs revenge for revenge’s sake, something to give him purpose and keep him going, until he’s so into it that he can no longer tell the difference. his gravekeeper background and the trauma he suffered at young age both make a lot of sense, as does the way he acquired the rod. his family, ishizu and rishid, do a great job in complementing and completing his character. besides, he’s one of the few (only?) ygo villains that act fucked up (real evil, i give him that) and get plausible retribution arcs afterwards — a good wrap-up with realistic, justified pacing is what most of them lack (ekhem yuri, ekhem quattro).

bakura is the major villain of the whole dm (it would appear) — and i love the way he’s absent through a good half of the whole plot anyway. his character is introduced in pegasus’s island, then he plays his part at battle city and returns only for the final arc, showing some very nice long-term pacing (just the way the millennium eye shows up after a long time to serve its purpose). the ryo-dark bakura-zorc-thief king set up makes a surprising lot of sense and explains a good part of the plot. the “evil non-human destruction entity” part is a bit cheap, but i can let it slide because it’s rather congruous. bakura’s motivations are really my favorite — his issue with the pharaoh is a tragic conflict, making his drive both understandable and condemnable. his personality and emotions adds a lot to the mix (as does being near-immortal): he’s not very goal-oriented and likes to do what he pleases, which is perfectly reflected in the battle city duel against yugi. it’s a shame that he gets annihilated without at least a proper death scene, but i guess it is rather deserved. either way, he’s the only major villain in ygo that is so well-developed (or at all) and has so much in common with a human being, especially if we count ryo in. the fact that he sucks at the card game makes it even better for the chaotic-evil “do i look like i have a plan” character he is, though they could have let him play more than, like, three duels in total.

being two revenge seeking antags with very different motivations, backgrounds and priorities — as well as very different endings to their respective stories — they do a fantastic job with forming the main villain body in dm. the personality split thing also works vastly different for the two of them, adding to the interesting dynamic. when i say that battle city is the best duel monsters arc and that they carried the battle city arc, well, i mean it. their interactions, ship it or not, are a great thing in dm. besides, there’s a sense of completion in the ends they meet that doesn’t exclude the bitter-sweetness of an open ending and a feeling of making sense, of plausibility that many other ygo antags fail to reach, even complexity of character aside.

#ygo #yugioh #duel monsters #yami bakura #malik ishtar #antag rambling #dm spoilers #still not over them okay

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wizardofrozz · 3 years ago

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Ignite the Stars (2)

Darth Vader x Sith!Reader, OCs

Word Count: ~3.8k

Warnings: light swearing, mention of violence, angst

<< Part 1 | Part 3 >> | Masterlist

The Executor was bland. All harsh metal edges, boring grays and whites, and dull blinking lights. You had hoped a Super Star Destroyer would be more impressive aside from its sheer size but so far, it bored you. Even the stupid chairs sucked. You shifted again, recrossing your ankles where they were propped up on the table in the meeting room, your boots leaving another scuff mark on the dark surface. Vader was lingering across the room, his arms crossed over his wide chest that you definitely weren’t taking notice of.

“Why are you here?” cut through the quiet room.

“I thought it’d be fun,” you sassed without looking up from the datapad in your hands. Vader, unsurprisingly, said nothing, his gaze burning holes in your face and for some reason, you felt a little guilty. He was seemingly trying to make conversation so maybe this whole trip wouldn’t be miserable. You blew out a long breath and lifted your eyes over the top of the datapad. “The Emperor requested I come to Coruscant. I learned a long time ago that it hurts less if I do what I’m told.”

His head tilted in question and you had to chew on the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling at the almost cute gesture. For all the horror stories you’d heard about the menacing and ruthless monster that was Darth Vader, he seemed oddly subdued each time you’d encountered him. He continued to stare at you, his loud breathing setting a relaxing rhythm that you were coming to enjoy.

“I don’t think I need to explain what I mean,” you huffed, dropping your eyes to the report again.

“No, you don’t.” Suddenly the conversation felt too raw, too deep and you needed it to end. Thankfully, Vader left it that and repositioned his arms, the weight of his eyes on you disappearing. His looming presence was like an itch you couldn’t scratch, wearing your patience thin until you couldn’t ignore him any longer.

“For kriff’s sake, will you sit down. You’re making me uncomfortable,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at the wall of metal and flesh. You felt the instant his eyes snapped back to your face, raising a challenging brow when he didn’t move. A deep rumbling sound arose from his chest that struck you as almost animalistic in nature but he complied, dropping aggressively into the chair opposite you.

“Must you put your feet on the table?” Vader grumbled, crossing his arms again.

“Does it bother you?” you asked, tilting your head and blinking coyly.

“Yes.”

“Then, yes,” you snorted. Vader could’ve easily removed them physically or through the Force but he just stared at you, letting his frustration fester like an open wound. “So, what’s the plan, big guy?” Vader leaned back in his chair and if he could, you were sure he’d have let out a loud sigh.

The halls of the Super Star Destroyer were filled with troopers and officers chattering quietly, only sparing you a few anxious glances. You could only bare Vader’s silent and imposing company for so long before you felt the need to do something, even if it was wandering the massive ship. One corridor led to another and eventually, you found yourself facing the room that could only be the trooper mess hall. This was probably the first time you’d seen so many Stormtroopers in one place that weren’t just stoic statues. You could feel eyes on you from every direction as you wandered through the trooper-cluttered room but no one made a move to stop you.

“Need somethin’?” the young man behind the empty meal line asked. He seemed indifferent to your company, merely raising a brow when you continued to squint at him.

“Caf if you have it,” you replied hesitantly, stepping out of the way of a trooper too engrossed in a conversation to notice you. The worker gave you a stiff nod, fumbling with something out of your line of sight.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he noted, glancing up at you.

“I’m aiding V- Lord Vader on an assignment,” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“Mm, sounds important,” he hummed without sparing you another glance. The man’s complete disinterest in your presence shouldn’t have bothered you so much but, at the same time, it was kinda…nice. So many times your presence was met with fear or anger and to be seen as nothing more than a person, an equal to the men and women surrounding you was a welcome change of pace.

“What’s your name?” you found yourself wondering, your features softening slightly.

“You care?” he scoffed, shifting his eyes to you again. Were you really the first person to ask his name? You kept your features neutral but not without sparing a moment for a subtle eye roll before addressing him again.

“Yes.” He paused, lifting his head to meet your gaze as if it was so hard to believe that you wanted to know his name.

“Dax,” he mumbled, reaching for a lid before handing you a cup. “I guess I’ll be seein’ you around more often.”

“I supposed so,” you sighed, cradling the warm cup against your chest. “Thank you, Dax.” He offered you a silent nod but you caught the hint of a smile before you went back to dodging preoccupied troopers.

You spent another few hours exploring your temporary home, making small talk with a few stray Commanders and even a Major General. It seems like every person on the ship was miserable and it made you wonder how the hell anyone got a damn thing done. Your roaming eventually led you to the corridor you’d be housed in for the foreseeable future but you hesitated at the end. The unmistakable figure stood outside your room, staring at the floor, completely ignoring the world around him and you took the opportunity to just observe him for a moment.

Stories floated through rundown cantinas about the Emperor’s fist. You’d find yourself laughing under your breath as you listened to the whispers about what was really under his suit and where he came from. You really only knew who was under the suit but all you had were the tall tales about what happened to him. The fact that he was human eliminated a lot of the stories you’d heard in passing and as you spent more time around him you picked up on things. For example, why didn’t he shift his weight if he was standing for extended periods of time?

You set a slow pace, taking your time closing the space between you and him and it wasn’t until halfway to your door that he moved. With his gaze still glued to the floor, Vader tilted his head slightly and you felt the shift in the Force a beat before his head snapped towards you, his posture straightening again.

“Is this gonna become a normal thing?” you asked with a smirk, leaning against the wall opposite him. Vader just looked at you, his head falling to the side again, and damnit, it wasn’t cute. “You know, menacingly looming outside my room so I wonder if you’re gonna break in and kill me.” Vader’s modulator made a faint crackling noise like there was feedback and your brows pinched together.

“We are required for a meeting with the Grand Admiral,” was Vader’s response. He stepped away from the wall, hesitating long enough for you to fall into step with him. “And I do not loom.”

“Please, that’s all you do,” you snickered, glancing up at him. You nearly stumbled at the small yet sharp flicker of amusement that colored Vader’s Force signature and it was gone so fast you thought you imagined it. He stayed quiet for the remainder of the walk but it wasn’t awkward for once.

The clicking of keys and his stable breathing hardly cloaked the rumble of the Executor’s engines, the endless tunnel of hyperspace swirling in the lenses of his helmet. They were closing in on their destination, a newly inducted planet on the edge of the Mid Rim that was struggling with a rebellion uprising. Vader glanced down at where you stood at his side, noting the glazed look in your eyes as you split your consciousness between the physical world and the Force. He thought about joining you but found that he was content to just observe you for now.

You had changed into a black officer’s uniform at Vader’s request but not without frequently reminding him how much you hated it. He gave you another once over and despite your distaste for the uniform, it suited you, flattering your physic which was a thought he would be keeping to himself. The chatter on the bridge started to pick up as they neared the jump point and Vader turned his attention to the twisting space in front of him just as he felt you pull away from the Force. He rested his hands on the front of his belt, waiting for the jolt that came from dropping out of hyperspace.

“How much talking will I have to do?” you asked, pulling Vader out of his mindless staring.

“I would prefer you kept it to a minimum,” Vader replied without looking at you. He waited for you to bristle and argue with him but instead, you let out a relieved sigh that drew his attention.

“Thank the Maker, I hate political jargon,” you mumbled, shifting your weight and crossing your arms.

“That is a feeling we share,” he confessed, watching the corner of your mouth twitch with a faint smile.

“No, you’re telling me you don’t like negotiating with nobility? I’d have never guessed,” you teased, your expression softening with your smile. Vader shouldn’t be so charmed by it but he found himself enjoying the sight of genuine pleasure on your face. It made you look less worn, dulling the shadow of years of suffering that was etched into your face.

Vader gripped his belt tighter and clenched his jaw under his helmet. Enough of this foolish fascination. I am a Sith Lord, not a pathetic child.

“You will stay at my side at all times. You may be accompanying me on this operation but I am taking command.” You lifted your gaze to meet his, your eyes narrowing in defiance but after a long few seconds, you caved with a tight nod. Vader should’ve enjoyed the power he held over you, savoring the thought of you bending to his will but it pleased him for an entirely different reason.

This was you placing your trust in him. Something, if he was being honest, he hadn’t entirely earned. If Vader was in your position, he wasn’t sure he’d have done the same but for reasons that eluded him, you saw something worth trusting.

Another part of you that he found strange.

Giving someone your trust should’ve made you appear weak but Vader had a sinking feeling that if he wasn’t careful, you’d come out with the upper hand. Then it hit him like a runaway speeder. No, this wasn’t a sign of weakness, it was a powerplay. Would he be dense enough to fall for the trap you set? Vader was not one to participate in a back-and-forth game like this but oddly enough, the idea intrigued him.

No one ever saw his face so he paid no mind to any expressions be made but to his surprise, he took notice of the way one side of his mouth lifted in the faintest of smiles. Though you’d never know it, you’d accomplished a feat no other being had come close to in many years.

“I have yet to learn your name,” he found himself saying, pointing his mask toward the viewport again.

“You didn’t ask and it’s not something I give away freely,” you retorted with a shrug. Vader’s irritation started to grow again as you continued to beat around the bush; you were going to make him explicitly ask for it. The material of his belt squeaked as his fists clenched before he released it completely, drawing his arms under his cape again.

“What is your name?” he forced out. The sudden wave of uncertainty around your answer surprised him. Had you really not expected him to press you on it?

“(Y/N),” was barely a whisper but he heard it nonetheless. What was left of his biological body stiffened and he blinked slowly as he absorbed the information. That wasn’t the name of a Sith apprentice, an identity passed on from a Master.

It was you, the person beneath all the hatred and pain.

“Keep it to yourself,” you growled, your usual sharp attitude back in place. You stared up at him with a hard, narrow-eyed look for a few more seconds before brushing past him. Vader turned enough to watch you storm across the bridge and he started to wonder if your trust was a powerplay after all. He secretly hoped it wasn’t.

Life was agonizingly lonely when everything stayed sealed behind impenetrable walls and it appeared you knew that feeling just as well as he did.

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen them but the beautiful snow-capped mountains that broke up the long stretches of grasslands on the surface of the small moon stole your breath. The crisp, clean air was such an extreme contrast to the filtered, stale air of Courscant that taking a deep breath made your lungs sting faintly. Vader was still milling around inside the shuttle but you didn’t mind the few seconds of peace, a sensation that always hovered just out of reach. You let your eyes fall shut and drifted into the Force, letting out a long sigh. You could sense the ground under your feet and the thousands of species roaming the moon and for a beautiful second, the frigid grip of the darkside relented.

Vader’s presence was faint as he exited the shuttle, his emotions locked behind tight shields as he moved to stand at your side. You were almost reluctant to reel in your senses again but you didn’t have time to stop and smell the flowers. The chill returned to your core as you looked up at Vader, blinking away the heaviness in your mind. His posture stiffened, his stare searing into your eyes as he slowly, almost mindlessly, lifted a hand. Maybe it was your brief meditation or raw curiosity but you didn’t step away, lazily dragging your eyes around his angular mask. The feather-light touch of leather at the corner of your eye sent an involuntary shiver up your spine. The touch seemed to surprise him like he wasn’t aware that he was moving and his hand fell away, pinning you in place with his unseen gaze.

An officer hurrying down the ramp called for him, shattering the quiet moment and you blinked, your brows furrowing. You didn’t watch Vader walk off but the ghost of his touch burned the corner of your eye. It would’ve made you laugh if someone ever told you Vader had the capacity to be gentle but it was becoming harder and harder to find the idea funny now.

Especially when your stomach was still somersaulting from the intimacy of it.

What the hell is happening to me?

Vader fell into the middle of the group, letting his Captain lead the way to the royal family’s home. You were walking somewhere off to the side a few paces ahead of him, engaged in a conversation with a Commander he couldn’t put a name to at the moment. When you turned your head to talk to the Stormtrooper at your side, he could see your eyes had shifted back towards gold again but they were muddled with the undertone of your natural eye color.

Vader flexed his hand, his mind playing tricks on him because he couldn’t actually feel sensations through the prosthetic. The lingering warmth of your skin was an illusion that made his frustration spike. This seesawing of his views toward you needed to stop; you’re difficult, brash, and arrogant, all things that grate his nerves. Yet the more he thought about it, the less confident he felt about his conclusions.

What made you different from him?

As the procession approached the royal home you dropped back a few steps, filling the empty spot at Vader’s side. He could feel your anger lingering around your shoulders, the dark emotion occasionally brushing against him only for it to be overlooked. Vader’s continued disregard of your ire towards him made it swell and grow more imposing but luckily they arrived at their destination. Troopers cleared a path leaving him to stand in front of the thin, terrified maid that answered the door.

“Lord Vader,” a booming voice called from somewhere out of sight. The man he assumed to be the king appeared behind the young girl, shooing her away silently before bowing, an action that made Vader want to roll his eyes. “Please, follow me. My General is anxious to begin strategizing.”

Vader chanced a look down at you and caught your eye only to clench his fist when you raised an expectant brow at him. He followed the veteran king through the corridors, acutely aware of your presence a few paces behind him.

Finally, you arrived at your room. Hours and hours of briefing and planning made you want to claw your eyes out. Your skill set didn’t involve battle strategizing; during the war when you were sent onto the battlefield, you listened to the plan and acted. The plotting, revising, then replotting attacks made your head hurt, and all you wanted to collapse into bed but things were never that easy.

Vader’s massive frame made the sitting room feel tiny and paired with your annoyance about the arrangements made it feel suffocating.

“You are being dramatic,” Vader rumbled, crossing his strong arms over his chest. The sound of your teeth grinding together only aggravated you more as you spit out a few unsavory insults in Huttese. “That was rude.”

“Oh, shut up,” you huffed, walking into the room you’d claimed and shutting the door with a wave of your hand. It wasn’t quite fair to be angry with him when he, obviously, had no idea why but no one ever said you were reasonable. It only angered you more that you weren’t actually mad at Vader. His stunt outside the shuttle confused you more than anything.

You flopped onto the huge bed against the wall with a sigh, staring up at the intricately designed ceiling. You could make out the thump of Vader’s boots as he moved around in the small sitting room until his footsteps retreated into the other room opposite yours. There were a handful of other things you could be doing but frankly, you didn’t feel like it. So instead, you slid out of bed, barely containing the urge to throw the kriffing uniform over the balcony and tugging on the comfortable clothes you’d been longing for all day.

The sitting room was…pleasant. The walls were a soft neutral tone that complimented the slate flooring and delicate rugs. The two eggshell couches were accented with gold along the seams that matched the metallic end tables and a bar filled the corner near your room. It was pretty but what begged for your attention was the large doors that opened onto a balcony facing the mountains. The snowy peaks look even bright in the twin moonlight, twinkling like the stars overhead.

His approach was as quiet as humanly possible for him but you didn’t acknowledge him.

The gentle breeze lifted the end of his cape, the heavy fabric brushing against your leg and you were surprised to find that he was still wearing all his armor. You thought about bringing up what was bothering you earlier but you just didn’t have the energy to go at it with him.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” you asked instead, leaning into the railing. Vader made a quiet rumbling sound in response that you took as his agreement. You had to duck your head to hide your smile when the thought, he sounds like a loth cat purring drifted through your head.

“He is testing you.” The statement came out of left field and you just blinked up at the side of Vader’s head for a second, trying to get your thoughts in order.

“Who’s testing me for what?” you finally asked. Vader rested his huge hands on the railing, completely enveloping it but said nothing, continuing to stare out at the endless grasslands.

“He is interested to know if you could replace me.”

“Excuse me?” you choked out, turning to face him fully. His head tilted slightly as he looked down at you, his breathing suddenly sounding too loud in the quiet night. “Why?”

“My Master does not like to be disappointed,” Vader replied, his mask and tight shields giving nothing away. “If I fail him, he will replace me.”

“I don’t want that,” you whispered, shaking your head. Cold, all-consuming fear bled into the marrow of your bones, and your eyes glazed over. Flashes of bright blue light, burning flesh, and waves of pain flashed through your mind and you took an instinctive step back. If you thought Dooku was bad, the man that made him had to be even worse.

Every muscle went rigid when a large hand closed around your arm, stopping your retreat.

“(Y/N).” The deep rumbling voice snapped you back to the present and you blinked at the expressionless mask that was significantly closer than it was minutes before. It didn’t matter what you wanted because unless you ran and continued to run, you were stuck under the Emperor’s thumb.

“What choice do I have?” you asked softly, relaxing into Vader’s grip.

“The same one I have.”

Do as you’re told or face the consequences.

The new information was too much, too overwhelming to handle after the day you had. Vader suddenly turned into a rival for a position you didn’t want. You wanted to stay far away from Sidious if possible but it was starting to look like that was a pipe dream. Whatever friendship that had been forming between you and Vader was null and void, it had to be unless you rolled over and gave up. Your head felt too heavy, a faint pulsing starting in your temple that would quickly form into a migraine. Without much thought, you dropped your head forward and it didn’t register that your forehead was resting on his chest until Vader tensed. You blinked a few times, your brain catching up with your body and you were ready to stumble away when a rigid hand lightly rested against the back of your head.

It was almost comical how bad Vader was at offering comfort but the gesture still brought a small smile to your face. Things would change come daybreak but until then you relished in the illusion that whatever had been growing between you and him wasn’t doomed from the start.

Taglist: @the-official-memester @dokoni-mo @burn-bunny @guinea-pig16 @alisu-id @vanillacoffeeaddict @astra-1780 @yvette-ace @instantnoooodles

#darth vader x reader #darth vader x sith!reader #darth vader #star wars #darth vader fic

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normaltothemax · 2 years ago

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The longer the man is in there, the more uncomfortable Archie feels. It isn't that he's afraid of the other (aside from a healthy dose of respect for the fact that the man could probably easily rip him to shreds, should he choose to), it's that, well, people are complicated. Even more so when any sort of politics are involved. While that's wonderful, makes for an exciting and colourful world, and all that la-dee-dah crap, Archie doesn't quite get most people on the best and simplest of days.

The combination of an unknown Alpha werewolf, Archie having entered his territory uninvited, and the fact that this now technically makes him a representative of his own pack (bringing with it even more complications and expectations), is making for a truly horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day.

It isn't even noon.

He only grows tenser as the man approaches his table, eyes closing for a brief moment as he takes a breath and tries to collect himself. To avoid coming off as a complete basket case. Hint: it doesn't work all that well. It isn't until the man's standing at his table that Archie realizes he's just about crushing his cup. If he was to hold on any tighter, he'd no doubt get coffee all over the table. He has to force his grip to loosen, one finger at a time, before he clasps his hands on top of the table instead.

Despite not finding the joke all that funny, he gives a polite, if nervous, laugh. "Yes, I suppose they wouldn't." He clears his throat, resists the urge to bite down on his lip. Back straight. Don't slouch, Archibald. And for god's sake, pick your eyes up off the floor. His mother's disappointed voice has him fixing his posture (despite the urge to disappear remaining strong) and lifting his gaze. He still doesn't quite meet the other man's eyes.

"Yes, thank you, I'm just...thinking." Overthinking, as usual, but not much he can do about that now. He takes a breath, tries to put a bit of confidence in his voice. "Actually, I was wondering if you might have time for a quick, er, chat." He wets his lips, swallows, before gesturing to the bench across from him. "I won't take much of your time. Unless there's somewhere else you need to be, of course."

Please say there is.

Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, need coffee, where’s the coffee—

It’s ultimately the only thought currently going through his head, nearly knocking into some poor person as he stumbles through the door—with a quick apology to boot, of course. And maybe someone promising to bring him a little treat later for all his hard work? Honestly, Manuel really wasn’t paying much attention.

Already he was ordering his usual, having an idle chat with the barista just to tickle the brain into some functionality. The sharper stench of anxiety in the air isn’t something he’s not used to, but there was something enough different to make him look up and around. And… well… if that rather fancy looking guy was hoping to hide, he really didn’t seem like he was doing a good idea.

“¿Es nuevo?” A quick question for the barista again, though they seemed to only give Manuel a quick shrug before going back to his drink. So… that was probably a yes. Maybe. Well… there were probably a million worse places to hide out in, assuming that’s what he was doing, of course.

And—well, damn that itching urge just to check in because it’s already moving his feet as soon as he grabs his order. The closer he gets? Yeah, it seemed like he was looking at the right person. “Hey.”

A surprisingly gentle call just because the poor thing looks like he’s about halfway to shitting himself for some reason. “Don’t think they’re gonna appreciate cleaning up if you ruin that seat, y’know.” The joke? Could hardly be helped, though Manny’s quick to turn down to a polite yet questioning frown of concern. “You okay though…?”

Again, it seemed polite enough to check.

#detectivewoof #✦ ic: archie howells #✦ verse: main (archie howells)

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tamaki-kisses · 3 years ago

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notes: nervous virgin! tamaki , accidental boner , established relationship, embarrassment , blow job , fem! reader has tits & pussy

“tamaki?”

your voice comes out casual and unceremonious, a significant contrast to how the flutters dancing and flickering in your chest are making you feel. they’re accompanied by the heavy pounding of your heart. it’s impossible to disregard tamaki’s pulsating hardness pressing up against you, it’s what put the idea into your head, after all.

“hm?”

he’s securely clutching you from behind, like a koala bear hanging from a branch. his unsteady breath faintly tickles the back of your neck and the fine hairs coating it. you shiver involuntarily, agonizing over how you’re going to possibly word this. he’s obviously not going to bring attention to his little ‘issue’ and your own tingling heat between your legs makes it difficult to ignore. if anyone’s going to address it… it’s you.

you’re apprehensive and contemplating against his stiff radiating warmth before finally forcing the proposition out into the shared air between you both.

“you know, if you want…” the fluttering takes steep whoosh into your stomach. tamaki’s slender fingers continue to tap on your midsection with a false sense of composure. “i could give you a blowjob.”

a panicked gasp reaches your ear immediately and you’re not at all surprised when the hotness of his erection is pulled away from you. that inital reaction gets a wince out of you as you sit up on your side just in time to see tamaki scramble across your bed to lean against the wall. he soon covers his lap with a spare blanket and refuses to even glance in your direction. his long ears droop, a cherry redness reaching the tips.

“you don’t have to do that… i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean for that to happen… it’s just sometimes- i don’t know… having you so close to me is a lot- oh no, i sound like a pervert, i swear i’m not a pervert…”

his frantic rambling eventually trails off on its own and you give a chance to somewhat recover before responding. “it’s okay. really, i swear. it’s fine, i don’t think you’re a pervert. and i actually want to, you know, suck you off…”

that last part makes your face flush, your cheeks igniting fiercely, but you manage to keep your relaxed demeanor up for his sake.

“you want to.” tamaki repeats, slowly. his dark eyes dart back and forth like he’s watching an intense tennis match before his stare finally lands back on the bed. you can almost see the gears turning in his head. “i just don’t want to take advantage of you…”

the whisper honestly breaks your heart, a bit of sadness creeping in knowing that he worries about that. shaking your head gently, you crawl over to him and rub your thumb over his edged jawline. he jolts under your touch and continues to shift restlessly. you bring your other hand to his warm cheek. a deep sigh, maybe relief, leaves him, but his pretty eyes still refuse to meet yours.

“tamaki. look at me.” you smile lovingly, realizing that you could truly watch him for a lifetime. it’s like gazing at the night sky when he finally does look at you and gives you a view of his eyes up close. “i want to. i promise.”

a peaceful quiet falls over the two of you before he gently moves your hands away and leaves an affectionate kiss on your temple. your skin jumps at the captivating sensation of his tufts of hair brushing against you. “o-okay.”

you’re surprised as you watch him gradually remove the blanket that was once obscuring his crotch. he looks adorably shy, pink face scrunching up in a sulk when you can’t help but stare down at the large bulge straining against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. your clit pulses with excitement, but you shake yourself out of it and try to figure out how this is going to work.

“come over here,”

you laugh softly and slide down to the floor before patting the edge of the bed. tamaki awkwardly scooches across the comforter until he’s perched on the spot you directed. now that he’s close enough, you lift his shirt teasingly and trace your fingers over his firm stomach muscles with one hand and pinch under his knee with the other. he jostles from the purposeful tickling and says your name in the midst of a protesting chuckle. that’s something you’re confident with, but you take the leap and fiddle with the waistband of his pants.

tamaki gulps audibly and nods at you to continue, slightly lifting himself up. you’re able to pull them off swiftly, but your nerves only increase at the sight of his boxers. they’re the only barrier between you and his hard on and it’s a daunting thought. you leave a playful kiss on the softer part of his stomach, but know there’s really no use in stalling this any longer.

you finish stripping his lower half.

from above you, tamaki lets a low mewling whimper go and your already wobbly breath catches in your throat.

he’s big.

sure, you had expected that much from the clothed peeks you’d already gotten, but actually having his cock a few inches away from your face is a totally different story. you can’t tear your accidental stare away; he’s definitely not lacking in any aspects and there’s a single prominent vein running down the side. the head is brightly roseate and already leaking a generous amount of precum.

he doesn’t take your shameless gawking very well, whining your name again as he hides his pouting face in his palms. “d-don’t look at it like that…”

you giggle at how endearing that display is, a nice contrast to his admittedly intimidating cock. it’s when you lean up to leave a feathery kiss on his cheek that an idea to make him feel a little better pops into your head.

tamaki’s still hiding behind his hand as you easily shrug off your oversized pajama shirt and toss it aside. your breasts hang from your chest freely out in the open, nipples perky and interested. you try not to think too much about it as you crane upwards again to attack his ears this time.

he emits a stuttering gasp when your tongue begins to trace the pointed shell of one. you travel down and suckle at the lobe for a moment before whispering his name.

the results are as expected.

his hand falls away and his mouth goes almost slack, when he sees you, hungry eyes going over every inch of your halfway undressed figure. a single restrained squeak, something that makes your insides squeeze with adoration, leaves him.

“oh my god…” tamaki starts to squirm involuntarily, nearly reaching for his exposed cock before catching himself.

you grin sheepishly and almost ask him if he wants to touch them, but decide you don’t want him passed out on your bedroom floor. it’s a real shame though. you can feel your panties grow more damp at just the thought of him nervously toying with your tits with those pretty hands of his.

with anticipation reaching an almost painful boiling point, you move forward to take him in your hand. it’s clear you might’ve done so with too much vigor, or maybe just enough, when tamaki’s hips twist sharply and a loud treble moan makes itself known.

“ahhh-“ his eyes squeeze shut and a hand slaps over his mouth, muffling the light airy moans that soon follow the first.

you continue, head spinning as you have his hard cock in your grasp, and lean in to lick at the head. it’s an incredibly foreign taste and salty to a horrible degree, but you happily lap your tongue over his entire length. tamaki responds with more barely controlled thrusts and wispy groans.

jt’s aggressively overwhelming when you first slip your lips over his cock. the thick heat of it chokes you as you try to get used to the fullness. your jaw is quick to ache after just a few moments of opening your mouth as wide as possible in an attempt not to add teeth to the equation.

you’re not going to be able to fit all of him, but your hand, the one still at the base brushing up against his inky hair, isn’t out of the picture. tamaki keens so sweetly when you start to jerk him off in addition to slurping and sucking his soaking cock.

you’ve only just established some kind of rhythm when his hip movements become more erratic and gasps become shakier.

“m, close-” tamaki sputters out from between his fingers to your surprise. already? you take it as a sort of compliment and trek on.

the noise that’s created from you practically inhaling the tip of his cock makes your head spin with electrifying excitement. your bare thighs stick together with both sweat and slick and you allow your free hand to sneak over and grope at your clothed pussy.

you feel tamaki tense, another squeak pulled from the depths of his throat. “-move!”

even though the idea of swallowing entices you, his warning doesn’t go ignored and you slip off him with a resounding pop.

at just the right moment.

you look up to see tamaki reach his climax and are instead caught off guard as spurts of thick cum splash onto your flushed cheeks. a gasp leaves you while some of it splatters onto your bare chest. you still manage to catch him riding out the last of his orgasm; eyes pinched shut, pointed ears twitching along with his cock, and hand still acting as barrier against all of his lovely groans and cries.

in the second before tamaki gathers himself and inevitably panics at the sight of you, you’re still wishing you would’ve swallowed…

#kisses4tamaki #tamaki amajiki #tamaki amajiki smut #tamaki smut #bnha smut

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cricketnationrise · 2 years ago

Note

AHH CRICKET CONGRATS ON 200!!!

for the fest could you do Tater on June 30th 2016 at Jack and Bitty’s apartment?

Thank you so much, your writing is everything <3

Thank you! Your prompt plus a comment from @itsthekiks on the other Tater ficlet (Hotel Room, Mar. 1) sent me into companion piece mode. So if you think you recognize lines, you do and it's on purpose! I hope you like it 💜

_X_ _X_ _X_

Jack's Apartment, Jun. 30, 2016

Although he’d woken up hours ago, Tater still hasn’t turned on a light. He wakes up before his alarm, stretches magnificently, and soaks up the pre-dawn stillness of Jack's apartment.

He watches, eyes unfocused, as the pink- and orange-tinted light moves lazily across the ceiling, heralding a new day.

When he finally looks at the clock, there’s still an hour until he even has to think about getting out of bed. He’s got PT at eleven, and then lunch at a new restaurant with B and Zimmboni. Tonight Bitty’s going to teach him how to make blueberry pie properly.

This summer has been good for Tater. Aside from the Cup win, he’s happier than he’s been in a while. He’s able to shake off his melancholy about his injury easily, focusing on one session at a time and feeling stronger every day and lunch on me today boys. But today, today is especially great. He’s well rested, the only sore muscles are a good sore from working out, he’s got a call with his parents scheduled for tomorrow, and time with Little B and Jack is always welcome.

With them, there’s no pressure to talk about hockey (unless Bitty is freaking out about being named Samwell’s captain again). Sure, he and Jack chat about their teammates’ vacations, and Thirdy texts him funny pictures of his daughter. But the cautious checking in on him from earlier this year is noticeably absent.

Every local Cup Day is a party for the whole team. The rookies, the coaches, even the old guys who normally go to bed early. Even Jack “Too-Busy-Looking-At-My-Boyfriend-To-Drink” Zimmermann joins in the celebrations. Tater laughs louder and longer than anyone when Jack and his parents recreate the photos of Jack being put in the Cup as a baby.

Tater loves his team, is the thing, wants to be there for them as much as possible. Tater knows they love him too, that they want him whole and healthy – not for the team’s sake, but for his own. For them, he’s enough. Tater isn’t desperate to prove anything anymore, content to dig deeper for one more joke, one more hug, one more memory; buoyant that he gets these people in his life.

Watching Jack and Bitty in their apartment is like watching professional dancers. It’s a cliché, but they move around each other like they were born for it, like two halves of a whole, constantly aware of the other. If Tater wants for anything, it's for that feeling, to find his person. Wants to soak up the kind of love that proves even the worst cynics wrong, that makes people sit up and take notice. But he’ll happily bear witness to the kind of love that stories are written about in the meantime.

Summers like this don’t happen to everyone, he knows. Intellectually he accepts that he’s got more PT ahead of him, walking farther, lifting more, stretching just a little bit more— But something in his heart sings at the thought of being fully recovered from this injury. Tater prides himself on being dependable, cheerful, someone his team and his friends can rely on. He delivered on that and more during the play-offs – who’s to say his injury didn’t inspire his team to be that much better?

He blinks up at the suddenly bright ceiling, realizing he’s been grinning only when his cheeks start to hurt. He can just hear Zimmboni’s soft voice in the spaces between the garbled flood of Georgia-accented words from Little B through the wall. The smell of baking cinnamon rolls wafts through the air, bringing another smile to his face.

Tater is better than he was in March. There’s always someone to hang out with, to hug, to joke with, to just fucking talk to. Today’s going to be a good day. Today he’s got PT and lunch sitting outside with friends and a nap and learning to make pie and his leg feels strong and he slept well and it’s no effort at all to bring out a happy face. Twenty more minutes, he thinks, and closes his eyes, drifting into an easy sleep.

_X_ _X_ _X_

if you follow me and want your own ficlet, details are here!

(anon prompts aren't guaranteed to be filled; if i do them at all it'll be at the end 💜)

#cricket writes #ficlet fest #omgcp #check please #tater #zimmboni #little b #companion piece #does the timeline make sense?#maybe not #watch me not care #@ned-b if you want something more along the lines of the cup party lmk #but this was what came out when i sat down to write it

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alluringjae · 4 years ago

Text

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)

⤑ 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.”

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 12) - Not So Sweet Home

Summary: Jensen is fed up with his parents ignoring Y/N all day and when he gets a moment alone, blows up on them like never before. The reader sees how upset Jensen is over what’s happening and does her best to defend him while still trying to salvage a relationship with them...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,200ish

Warnings: language, major family angst, mention of a dead parent

A/N: Eek! If you like angst this part is for you! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

It was late, the kids asleep in the guest bedroom, Jensen’s siblings and their families gone home for the evening aside from his brother. He made some half ass excuse about wanting to hang out with Jensen more but you knew he could sense what you did. Jensen was getting close to popping after a whole day of politeness on his part and his parents ignoring you on theirs.

Jensen was bouncing his knee like crazy as he sipped on his beer around a gas fire pit, suddenly stopping when you shifted in your seat.

“Maybe you ought to cool it with the alcohol tonight,” said his dad. Jensen set his empty bottle down on the grass and breathed deeply through his nose. “Your legs been-”

“Y/N, would you get me another beer please?” asked Jensen. You took the opportunity to get out of there, surprised when the back door opened quickly after you, his brother closing it behind him.

“I don’t think your parents like me very much,” you said, going to the fridge and pulling out a drink.

“I know,” he said, glancing out the dark window. “Jensen asked me to make sure you don’t come back out there.”

“He’s gonna go off on them.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m guessing,” he said with a sigh. “I have a feeling this isn’t going to go well. You guys can crash at my place if you want. We don’t have a guest room but we have an air mattress we can put in the family room.”

“You think it’ll be that bad?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Then why are we in here talking about this when we should be out there making sure he doesn’t say something he regrets in the morning.”

“You might hear things you can’t unhear,” he said.

“Right now my concern isn’t if my feelings get hurt. He’s really upset and I need him to be okay.”

“You know that’s why the rest of us like you, don’t you? You care about him, the kids. You’re in love with him.”

“Yes I am,” you said as he nodded.

“You call me if either of you ever need anything,” he said, going back to the door. You nodded and took a deep breath, following him outside and already hearing raised voices.

“She’s half your age, Jensen,” said his mom. “She was your nanny. Sweetie you have to know what’s going on here.”

“You’re getting played,” said his father, catching you walking out with Josh.

“She is not half my age. She’s thirty fucking years old! She’s a goddamn adult and been through more shit then both of you put together! She’s not after fucking money,” snapped Jensen who was already out of his seat.

“You’re engaged to the girl after five months!” said his father. “It took you years to propose the first time around!”

“Because I was a nervous kid that was away working constantly. I didn’t want to make Dee stay if it was gonna make her unhappy. I’m not afraid of how I feel anymore because I feel the same about her as I do Dee and I’m not wasting my time so I can stick to your socially acceptable schedule,” said Jensen. “I love her and she’s gonna be part of this family whether you like it or not. Deal with it.”

“You need a prenup,” said his dad.

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do! You’ve known the girl for not even six months!”

“She’s not up to anything!” shouted Jensen.

“Son-”

“Have you ever lost your wife? Have you ever been in the car and almost die yourself while you watch her breathe for the last time? Where she’s hurt and you can’t do a thing to fix it? Have you ever had to tell your children their mother is dead and she’s not coming back? You have no idea, no idea, what that does to you, how much it hurts and how much it hurts when you’re still so fucked up and your parents start making comments behind closed doors about you and you have to pretend you’re better when you’re really not. When you don’t even care about yourself anymore, when you pretend for everyone’s sake so they stop treating you like a child, when you don’t know how to tell your kids it’s okay because it’s not. It’s not. Until you go through that, until you know how bad it hurts, don’t assume a damn thing about her. She’s my best friend and she makes me feel like my old self again. I laugh and smile and have fun and when I get scared or feel guilty or freak out she makes me feel better. I don’t give a fuck how old she is or what her job was. She’s kind and good and she deserves better than you two. Danneel’s parents like her. Jared’s parents like her. Her old foster dad’s family likes her. Our family likes her except for you two. Get your heads out of your asses or you can not even bother letting me know you exist anymore. I’m done with things hurting the women I care about. I couldn’t stop what happened to Dee but I can sure as hell keep Y/N away from the two of you,” said Jensen. He huffed and walked off, Josh running off after him.

“Well congratulations. You got your hooks in him deep, don’t you,” said his father. You rolled your eyes and his mother scoffed.

“You can take care of someone without treating them like a child you know. He’s an incredibly strong person. If you don’t like me fine. But don’t call him stupid or easily manipulated or imply that it’s wrong to know you love someone after only a certain amount of time. I love your son.”

“You love his money,” said his mom.

“I do just fine on my own,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “He’s staying at Josh’s house tonight. We’ll pick up the kids in the morning.”

“He’s overreacting. He’ll be fine in the morning,” said his dad. You crossed your arms and leaned your head back. “He’ll be fine.”

“You two don’t know a thing about me and you assume I want money because of my age and my former career. Don’t assume your son will be fine and get over it.”

“We’ve known him a lot longer than you have. He’ll get over it after a night’s rest.”

“You may have known him longer and I’m sure in some regards you do know him better but not the ones that matter. If you did, you would have seen how much he would have loved for the two of you to like me. I would have taken some respect and been happy because trust me, I get how this looks to everyone else. I understand you have fears and I’m not mad you have them. I’m mad you assume those are facts when all they are is a story you made up in your head you don’t want to change. He’s right, I’m not going anywhere. The difference between him and me though is that I’ll stay out here all damn night with the two of you until you get it through your heads that I’m not here to fuck him over. I love him. I don’t have family, not really. Things have always been screwed up for me pretty much until I met him and he didn’t have to say it for me to know that he was hoping he could share the two of you with me. Maybe I was hoping for that too. But right now I’ll take some goddamn respect and an apology to your son to start and we can go from there.”

“You’re gonna curse at us and expect an apology?” said his mom. “We know you took him when he was at his low and tricked him into trusting you so you could get exactly what you wanted.”

“You know what I want? What I’ve always wanted and somehow always seems to get ripped away? A family. A stupid fucking family. Being a nanny? That let me feel like part of the family. I could pretend I was like all of those people I worked for. Nice and normal and like people gave a shit. Some kindness and a family is all I’ve ever wanted. You two...you wouldn’t have survived a day in my childhood. In my adulthood with the shitty ex boyfriend and the crappy friends and I picked myself over all of them because my mom told me to stand up for myself. Even when she couldn’t be there and I wanted her to. So I stand up for myself and now I stand up for him and those three kids to anyone and I mean anyone, that hurts them. He’s my family and those kids are my family. I don’t know what you think I’m gonna do but I guarantee the only thing I will do is tell you two where to shove it and to leave him the hell alone.”

“Why would we believe anything you say? At all?” his dad asked. “It’s probably the same sad story you told him to get him on the line. I don’t buy it.”

“I have a million dollar book deal. I’ve worked rent free for a lot of rich people since I was eighteen years old. Do I sound like someone who needs his money?” you said. You put your hands on your hips and shook your head. “What is it? You want me to sign a prenup? I would but he doesn’t want one. He trusts me and for a guy that lost his wife and had to work through falling in love with another person, I respect that. He knows what he wants and he’s not wasting time. This is scary for him. It’s scary for me. But when Dee’s parents gave me open arms and kindness and their blessing, the last people I ever expected to disapprove were you two. If you’re going to stand there and keeping calling me a liar, I’m going to find your sons and I’m going take care of Jensen instead of wasting my time here.”

“We don’t disapprove of him moving on and marrying again,” said his mom as you turned to walk away.

“Could have fooled me,” you said.

“He’s going too fast and he doesn’t know you either, not well enough to make a decision like that,” said his dad. You turned around and smiled.

“He knows my favorite color. He knows what my favorite flavor of ice cream is. He knows why I have nightmares and he knows how to make me forget them in the first place. I’m sorry we aren’t doing things on your schedule but it’s his life. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with it, whether that’s me or somebody else. For the record, he knows me just fine. Oh and if this is how you plan on speaking to him again in the morning, I’ll pick up the kids myself.”

“We’re looking out for his best interest,” said his dad.

“No, you think you’re looking at his wallet for him. See money? People think that’s important and it is but best interest? It ain’t that shit,” you said as you started to leave.

“Well what do you assume his best interest is then?” said his mom.

“Treating him like an adult. He is smart and strong and the most emotionally healthy man I’ve ever met which considering all the fucked up shit he’s been through and felt the past year is really saying something. He’s your child but he’s not a child. He found someone he loves and all he wanted to do was share me with you. This was his worst nightmare and I couldn’t stop it. So if you’re not gonna even try with me, then I’m gonna protect him from you.”

“He doesn’t need protecting from us,” he said.

“You call him stupid and that he can’t take care of himself, that he can be fooled and that the person he thinks is his best friend really only wants him for his money. He knows none of those things are true but it’s what you said to him when you said that about me. For a man who went through what he did, it wasn’t mean. It was cruel. I’m gonna go fix what I can of your relationship with him because despite all that, I know you guys love each other and I’m not letting that get fucked up because you think whatever the hell you think about me.”

You stormed off around the house and found Josh’s truck still there but neither man in sight. You looked around and heard a sniffle, your head going up to the roof. You saw the lattice work on the side and climbed up, peeking your head up to spot the two of them sat on the roof.

“Hey,” you said quietly. Jensen wouldn’t look at you, Josh rubbing his back.

“Careful,” he said as you climbed up and slowly walked over. You took a seat on your bottom, spotting the window behind them. “That was my room. Jensen used to sneak out this way. I was always too nervous of getting caught to try myself. You landed the bad boy of the family.”

“Oh yeah, such a bad boy,” you said. You scooted closer on your butt to him, Jensen resting his head on his knees. “Hey. Before you even think about it don’t say you’re sorry.”

“I know,” he said. He took a deep breath but looked up, looking fairly normal aside from a slightly pink nose. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Nobody was,” said Josh. “I’ll give you guys a minute. I’ll be in my car when you’re ready.”

“You should go home,” said Jensen. “Staying in a different house won’t change anything.”

“That was kinda fucked up what they said.” Jensen raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. “I don’t always agree with them. If you guys want to stay, that’s your choice but I’m not going home without telling them what a mistake they’re making.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re my little brother and I like her. Even if I didn’t, they’re being assholes and she doesn’t deserve that. You don’t. Alright?”

Jensen nodded and Josh walked off to the lattice and climbed down while you scooted next to Jensen.

“You thought your siblings weren’t gonna like me,” you said.

“He’s a good person. He’s never told off our parents before so...I don’t know if I’m happy about that or not.”

“He’s a good big brother,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “I don’t love you for your family though. I don’t care if your parents don’t like me. I’ll deal with it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to,” he said.

“I still like your dad so much better than mine,” you said.

“Yours is a monster to be fair.”

“Yeah, he is. Yours love you and I don’t agree with them but in their minds, they’re protecting you and I don’t have a problem with anyone trying to do that.”

“How are you so fucking kind to them after they basically said you’re with their dumbass son because of money?”

“Like you said, I know monsters. I know toxic and bad. They aren’t it. They raised you and I really, really like you. Good people can be stupid and still be good. In the morning we’ll try again.”

“What if I can’t get them to change their minds?” he said quietly.

“Jensen,” you said, moving to squat down in front of him. You grabbed his cheeks and he stared at you. “You don’t have to pick anybody over anybody. Maybe I won’t be close with them but that’s okay. It’s so okay. We’ll respect each other or just won’t talk to each other and we’ll figure it out but we don’t have to do it all tonight.”

“I think what bothers me the most is they’ve already made up their minds about you based on your age when they don’t even realize who you are. They don’t see that this is the kind of person you are, kind and supportive and I heard you not taking their bullshit. You’re a stronger person than I am and I wish they could see that the reason I’m not freaking out over this is cause I know you’re my partner and you got my back like I got yours. I’m just having a hard time understanding why they won’t even listen to us.”

“I don’t know,” you said, eyes darting to the window when you caught some movement inside. You narrowed them and glanced down, spotting the crack between the windowsill and frame. “I’m a little cool. I’m gonna get my sweatshirt if that’s okay.”

“Careful climbing in,” he said, turning on his bottom and pushing the window up. You kissed his cheek and climbed inside, the room empty as far as you could tell. You stepped out to the hall and into his old room, getting your hoodie, his old hoodie. You pulled it on but went downstairs, catching his parents in the kitchen with Josh.

“Josh may I speak to your parents in private,” you said.

“Yeah. I’m done here. I’ll be over for brunch, okay?” he said. He walked past you and caught your arm. “Call me if you need me back.” You nodded and he kissed your temple before he went out.

“Were you eavesdropping on us?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“We went to tell him to get off the roof. We could see him from the backyard up there,” said his mom, putting her back to you as she mixed up something in a mug. “But we heard the three of you talking and then the two of you. We didn’t mean-”

“We are all on the same side. His side. We should get along. It shouldn’t be this difficult and I don’t appreciate private conversations being listened in on. But I hope you understand that you hurt your son. I know you didn’t mean to and it’s the last thing you’d ever want to do to him. But you did. So please try to help me fix this. This isn’t easy for me to accept that you don’t like me either but you’re gonna respect me. If we can respect each other, then he’s not going to worry as much at least. Please promise that we can agree to that,” you said. His parents looked at each other and you sighed. “You have to be kidding me. What do you want me to do? Go away? I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”

“That’s not...Jensen called your father a monster up there,” he said.

“I thought it was a sob story according to you ten minutes ago.”

“You said you don’t have parents. He said your father is alive.”

“What’s your point, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Please enlighten me.”

“It doesn’t make much sense to tell different stories,” he said.

“You can’t even give me the benefit of the doubt that I love your son. Why the fuck would I tell you things only he knows, things so few people know about. Why would I trust you with the worst parts of my life when you don’t accept the best ones. For your information, my birth mother is dead. My adoptive mother is dead. I wish my son of a bitch father was dead. The only glimmer of a parent I have maybe, maybe was my foster father. That was until last weekend. I met some parents. I met Dee’s. I met Jared’s. I got the same message from all of them. Let us know if you ever need anything. Oh the way he looks at you. You must be pretty special. Anything at all, you give us a call. People that don’t even have an obligation to look in my direction treated me like I was their kid. So maybe he and I both got our hopes up with you two and that was on us. If you want to pick apart what I’ve said and call me a liar…” you said, putting your hands on your hips. Your shut your eyes and breathed deeply, turning around. “I don’t care if you have to pretend to respect me. Just do it for his sake and the kids sakes, alright?”

A tissue appeared over your shoulder and you took it, blowing your nose and stepping away.

“When did your mother’s pass?” you heard behind you. You threw your head back and took a deep breath.

“When I was born and when I was sixteen,” you said, turning around and swallowing. “Why does that matter?”

“When were you adopted?” he asked.

“Why do you care?”

“Please.”

“I was eight,” you said.

“So you only had your mother for eight years then,” he said.

“Yeah. She got sick when I was fourteen. I stayed with her boyfriend until I moved out for my first nanny job at eighteen. It was all very sad and angsty,” you said.

“Who made the first move?”

“I’m done with this interrogation,” you said. You started to leave but he stepped in front of you. “What do you want from me?”

“I just want to know who made the first move, you or Jensen.”

“I don’t…” you trailed off. “We had a fight. I told him I didn’t want him to be my friend anymore, he was just my boss and that was it. We couldn’t hang out at night and stuff anymore.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want him to hurt me,” you said quietly. “I didn’t fit with his life. I’m not a pretty actress. I’m not smart. I’m the younger nanny and that’s all I was gonna be until I became an older nanny and that was supposed to be my life. I didn’t ask for…”

“For what?” asked his mother, carrying over her mug and setting it down on the end table.

“I didn’t ask for him to love me. But he did and I don’t know why but I trusted him not to hurt me. It’s not fairytales and roses all day every day but I like having a best friend and I never would have submitted those books to a publisher without him encouraging me and I need him to feel better. He can’t catch a break lately and I hate seeing him upset. It makes me sick to my stomach and I really, really need him to be okay so please stop doing this. Just stop. Please. I don’t care if we have to pretend the rest of our lives but please, I can’t keep seeing him take hit after hit anymore and not being able to stop it.”

You weren’t expecting the hug from his father or to bury your face in his chest for a brief moment. His mom guided you to sit on the couch, pulling a blanket around you. She handed you the mug and you saw it was hot chocolate, your eyes darting back and forth between them.

“This isn’t about to be like a lifetime movie where you murder me, right?” you said.

“No,” said his mom as she sat next to you. “We hurt you quite deeply today, didn’t we.”

You stared at the mug, holding it in your hands.

“You were looking forward to meeting us,” said his dad as he sat down on your other side.

“It doesn’t matter. All I care about is him.”

“I don’t think he’d be very happy with you laying down for a semblance of normalcy for him,” he said.

“Just spit out whatever the fuck you want,” you said. You gripped the mug and shut your eyes.

“I’d like you to stop swearing please,” he said. “In exchange, maybe we can have a second chance.”

“Second chance at what?” you said dryly.

“At meeting our son’s fiance.” You lifted your head and stared at him, catching a bashful look you saw in Jensen every so often. “We understand, as well as we can, he was hurt after Danneel. We can’t fix those problems like when he would scrape his knees. We knew he was in a vulnerable position and things between the two of you seemed so fast for how in pain he was. We thought of the worst of you before knowing you and that wasn’t right of us. We were trying to protect him. But like you said, we all try to do that. So if you’ll let us, give us a second chance.”

“For him, I will give you both a second chance,” you said. “I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but this sort of thing isn’t going to go away just like that, for him or for me.”

“Is there anything…” said his mom as you shook your head. “We are sorry for before. Truly.”

“I know. Trust is difficult for me on a normal day. You guys kinda tore through the safety nets I thought I had with you. I need to build them up again is all.”

“That was you that said that, people have safety nets,” she said. You raised and eyebrow and she sighed. “Jensen, months back, he told us his therapist told him that, put things in perspective.”

“I guess couple’s are kinda each other’s therapists,” you said. “Sometimes they just need to vent to each other too.”

“Before you said...has he ever been to one?” asked his dad.

“Last weekend was...intense. I went to one as a child and he talked to him for a little while, helped him put things in perspective,” you said.

“Intense? Did you fight?” she asked.

“He and JJ got stung by a scorpion. It was a little serious. We went out the next night and I made a comment and he took it a different way and he got upset thinking I thought of myself as being less in his eyes than Dee was. I know it’s not true, it’s just different. He’s been having a really great week aside from today.”

You took a sip of the hot chocolate and went back for more, drinking half the mug down.

“We screwed up,” said his dad with a sigh, sitting back against the couch.

“Yeah but he’ll forgive you,” you said. “This is really good Mrs. Ackles.”

“Thank you sweetie and call me Donna. I made it for Jensen. He’s always liked it when he was living here and having a bad day.”

“Why do you think he’ll forgive us?” asked his dad as Donna got up.

“Because he’s Jensen. He’s not an angry man. Angry in moments but he doesn’t hold onto anger. I wouldn’t expect anything less from him. So I know he’ll forgive you. When I’m not sure of but it won’t be forever.”

“Have you two ever fought badly?” he asked.

“We’ve had a few fights. Mostly small and when we’re both tired or hungry. We had a big one a few weeks ago when he got home but we talked about why it happened and how to make sure it doesn’t again,” you said. Donna carried over a kettle and poured more hot chocolate in your mug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Don't ask about fights Alan. It’s not our business. We should let them tell us what they want,” she said as she walked back to the kitchen.

“They probably should have had a big fight at least once to know if they can work through those things and it sounds like they have,” he said when he turned to you. “I know you’re probably love struck but marriage? That’s a lifetime of putting in the work.”

“Alan if I didn’t care about putting in the work I wouldn’t be down here right now. I know I don’t know everything I’m signing up for and no one really does but I know him and the kids and that’s worth the parts I have to work at.”

“You sound older than you look.”

“Age doesn’t always equal life experience,” you said.

“I suppose not,” he said. He stood and took a deep breath. “I do apologize for thinking the worst of you and not giving you a fair chance upfront.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m going to bring this up and check on him.”

“Can I ask one last thing?” asked his dad. You nodded and he looked over to Donna who gave him a short nod. “Josh said you really love him.”

“I do.”

“Do you think he loves you the same way?”

“I know he does,” you said.

“How are you so sure?”

“How are you so sure your wife loves you?” you said. “Goodnight Alan.”

“Goodnight,” he said, his mom catching up with you in the foyer where the stairs were. You gave her a tired smile and she nodded.

“If I told you something, would you keep it a secret from Jensen?” she asked.

“No,” you said with a smile.

“I had to try,” she said. “We’re not like this by nature. Something happened he doesn’t know about when he was recovering that put us off to you. A woman. A young woman at his physical therapy.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly. She took a seat on a step and you sat beside her. “If someone tried to take advantage of him, you should have told me and him. He thinks you guys have gone nuts, no offense.”

“You’ll find with time you’d rather have your child safe and upset at you than the other way around,” she said.

“What happened?”

“We moved down to the house for a few months to help Jensen. He went to physical therapy. A very good place. A family friend works there and got him in and he regained a lot of strength in his leg quickly because of it. There were nurses that often helped and he worked with a few regularly and they develop a relationship and all that. It’s good for morale and healing we were told. One of these girls was about your age and our family friend overheard her gossiping to a friend on the phone during a lunch break.”

“Gossiping about…” you said. “Jensen?”

“They saw an opportunity to manipulate him. He is smart, smarter than the both of us together, but he was going through the motions that first month. She made him smile a bit. She flirted with him. Our friend told us what she’d said and we realized, he could be hurt again. Taken advantage of for what he has, what he can offer. His sudden shift in mood this year, introducing you as a fiance, made us think we’d failed to protect him this time.”

“Why not tell him that?” you asked.

“And tell him he was being manipulated back then? He’s so adamant that it can’t happen to him but we know different.”

“I think you should tell him, Donna. It makes your reaction today seem not so…” you said, her head shaking.

“Ma,” you both heard. You looked over your shoulders, Jensen sat against the wall at the top of the landing. “Mom. Jerry told me why I got a new nurse when it happened. She was nice, or was pretending to be, I don’t know. But I didn’t like her. I never got manipulated and I was never going to.”

“How long-” you said, Jensen rubbing the back of his neck. “You heard everything.”

“Yup,” he said, popping his p, his dad coming over to the bottom of the stairs and staring up. “I don’t want to talk to either of you right now. Y/N, I’d like to go to bed, please.”

“Accept their apology Jensen. You can hash out the rest of this in the morning but accept that they know they were in the wrong,” you said.

“Why should I?” he asked, cocking his head.

“We both got hurt out of their love for you. They are not monsters and I know the difference,” you said. “You know too.”

“Will you two ever look at me the same again,” said Jensen, staring at the landing.

“Honey it was a fight. It’ll be alright,” said his mom, his head shaking.

“Ever since I woke up in the hospital, you two look at me like I’m a kid. Like I’m weak and defenseless. But I’m not. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been and this whole day could have been avoided if you treated me like your adult son, not the kid who fell off his bike and cries over a cut. I needed you two to take over, I did, I honestly did after the accident. I couldn’t take care of myself let alone the kids. But you haven’t stopped thinking I can take care of me again. I can. I do. I know I’m your kid but let me be an adult again. Trust me. Please.”

“Come here,” you said, holding out your hand. He slid down the steps and you stood up and aside, letting him get a hug from his mom and then dad.

“We’re sorry,” said his dad.

“I know,” said Jensen quietly. “Never do something like that again. Ever.”

“We won’t,” he said. You leaned against the wall and sipped on the hot chocolate, Jensen’s nose twitching.

“That’s my cocoa,” he said, turning his head up at you.

“I just Jerry Springer’ed ya’ll. I get the cocoa. Get your own,” you said. He smiled and you gave it right back, his parents pulling off and bringing him to his feet.

“Come here,” said his dad as his mom dragged him off towards the kitchen with the promise of hot chocolate. You stepped down until you were about his height and took a drink, licking your lips when you finished. “How do you just let that go? You were so angry before.”

“I’ve been to therapy. I have good diffusing skills,” you said.

“Is that a joke?”

“Not really,” you said with a smile. “You made a mistake because you love him. I’m gonna make mistakes because I love him. So when I screw up, now you owe me one, deal?”

“I know it’s getting late but would you be willing to stay up a while longer, maybe find out that favorite color?” he asked. You smiled and nodded, stepping down.

“Depends on the day,” said Jensen, stepping out with a mug of his own.

“He’s right,” you said. “You okay to stay up a bit?”

He nodded and walked back to the family room, taking your hand.

“Better?” you whispered to him.

“Yeah. Not all the way but definitely better honey.”

It was warm when you woke up the next morning. You peeled open an eye and caught Jensen laying awake, staring at his ceiling. You kicked off the blankets and he reached an arm out, pulling you to lay on his chest.

“It’s hot in here,” you mumbled, eyes shutting again.

“There’s a box covering the vent,” he said, dancing his fingers lazily over your bare arm. “It’s almost noon.”

“Seriously?” you said into his chest, nuzzling against his soft skin.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’re out back with the kids,” he said. You nodded and felt him move his fingers all over you, soft and light, absentmindedly tracing patterns every so often.

“Still upset?” you asked, his head nodding. “They’re human. They fuck up.”

“Are you angry?”

“I was. Not anymore. I kinda like ‘em actually.”

“Why would you give them a second chance?” he asked.

“When I got adopted I didn’t like, instantly love my mom. I was scared of her at first. I don’t know, I get that you can not like someone at first and then love them unconditionally, you know? It’s weird but your opinions can change once you get to know someone.”

“I don’t do a very good job of protecting you from things,” he said, tilting his head, moving a few hairs behind your ear. You looked up at him, his fingers playing in your hair behind you.

“Honey you went off on your parents last night. I bet you’ve never done that to them. You were trying to protect me and you did. No one has ever protected me the way you do,” you said. “Today is a new day and I’d like to get to know my new family some more.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll follow your lead.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 13 here!

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