#worst part is that’ll have been the best day of his life too

[apollos-boyfriend]

i need bbh to win and invite skeppy because by the way bad talks about him i’m sure every non-english cc thinks he’s the most charming charismatic sweet and loving guy on the planet bc bad is so head-over-heels in love with him only for skeppy to join like 2 hours late, accidentally kill an egg, spend the entire time complaining to bad about Every Small Event while making bad do everything for him and then fuck off into the woods never to be seen again. and they’ll all turn to bad and be like “i’m so sorry . . . the stress of the situation must’ve gotten to him . . . maybe we’ve been here for so long he’s no longer the person you used to know . . .” only for bad to turn to them with hearts in his eyes and go “what do you mean? that’s how skeppy always is O.o isn’t he perfect?”

[screamintoad]

TWST oc Agate Fang

“I would watch where you’re going. Go too far or you’ll be drowned.”

Voice claim: Rin-Fruits Basket

Character info

  Agate has a habit of intimidating new people due to her stature but if you were to talk to her you would realize she’s actually very reserved and timid. In her first year it was common for Savanaclaw students to get into fights with her, it was a solid 80% win rate for Agate. It was almost a game to the rowdy students to see who could win in a fight against her.

  Growing up in the harsh environment of the deep sea left Agate’s childhood filled with scares. Lack of food, no stable home, and her father constantly moving in and out of her life. Her mother wasn’t the most motherly either, it’s everyone for themselves down in the deep. Being half fae and half merfolk gave her a huge sense of curiosity but, growing up in the deepest part of the ocean caused her to be wary of new things. One day when she was young, she swam up to where she could actually feel the sun’s rays through the water. For the first time in her life, she felt warmth. In her amazement she failed to notice a pair of eel merfolk watching her until one barreled into her. They spun her around and proclaimed they wanted to play with “The Great Dragon of the Depths!” Whatever that entailed. These twins had fun with her for she was the first kid their age to be faster and bigger and stronger than them. Later on, the tweels introduced her to Azul and the group have been quite the close quartet since.

Fun facts: She works as a bouncer/bodyguard at Monstro Lounge. Because of her strong digestive system, she has the bad? Good? Habit of drinking any potions. Being on the Spelldrive team gives her a good way to let loose all of her pent up energy. Her markings intensity while glowing indicate the emotion she’s feeling, dim is bashfulness or happiness whereas bright indicate embarrassment or anger/frustration.

Basic info

Age: 17

Height: 189cm, 6’2. Merform length: 40ft

B-day: April 1st (Aries)

Dominant hand: Right

Family: Unnamed mother and father

Nicknames: Madame dragon de mer (Rook), Leafy (Floyd)

2nd year

Class C

Club: Spelldrive club

Best subject: P.E

Hobbies: Collecting shiny things

Pet peeve: Her own insecurities 

Favorite food: Ice. She chews ice

Least favorite food: Anything pickled

Talent: Putting anything to good use

Unique magic: One with the Sea

She can turn invisible in water. The body of water needs to be at least up to her knees for the spell to work

Character dynamics

Azul: Despite knowing each other for so long, they tend to bicker a lot. Agate doesn’t agree to his shady methods with his contracts which is the main topic of arguments. But, she still sees him as family and will make sure he takes a break. Yes, she has thrown him before. Yes, she will do it again.

Jade: Mushroom man. No, seriously, if he thinks a mushroom is poisonous he’ll have her bite it to check. Worst thing that’ll happen is she’ll vomit it back up. Jade is the twin that she winds down with. They regularly have self care nights where they’ll drink whatever tea that Jade previously made and chat about both student life and their families.

Floyd: On the verge of biting him. Agate won’t say she’s particularly closer with either twin but she’s definitely closer to Floyd. They roughhouse almost daily and it actually helps them get any pent up energy out. It also helps if either of them have been stressed recently because they’ll yell vent to each other while doing so. She tends to humor him whenever his mood randomly switches, matching her energy accordingly.

Vil: She’s looked up to him ever since she came to land and learned about fashion. She takes notes on his lectures because she wants to appear more confident and not as scary.

Ruggie: They met when he failed to try and steal her snack. This went on for a few months, of them taking turns trying to steal from the other. Eventually they started talking and figured out that there’s always a rough place somewhere. Both on land and in the sea.

[desi-yearning]

Every 19th November has its 29th June.

Bittersweet. That’s the word I had been using to describe the ODI World Cup 2023. I'd use the same to describe this T20 World Cup 2024 too. But for reasons that are poles apart.

Very few people would know and understand how much this win means to me. 19th November has done some irreparable damage, I’ve had breakdowns for months about this, wrote poems that’ll never see the light (or you’ll never know it was written about this), but most importantly, I had given up hope, completely. This one compares nothing to that world cup but this brought back the hope to me that life won’t be as good as I want it to be, but maybe it won’t be as bad as I thought it would be.

I’ve grown up. I turned 18 this month and I also had to begin saying goodbye to my hero. From defending Virat in classrooms, carrying his pictures in my bag to defending Virat on online platforms yesterday and having a poster of him in my room, I’ve come a long way with him as an idol. I know that he is going to play the other formats but this is the beginning of a series of goodbyes. I’m not ready for this. I don’t think I’ll ever be too. I love him beyond expression.

Rohit. I still do not get how people who like Virat do not like Rohit. How can you *not* like Rohit? Rohit had been one of the players I liked previously but when cricket came back to me after a few years, he came back to me stronger. Rohit started to mean so much to me especially after seeing him embrace his ‘Bhaiya’ role in the best way possible. I’ve written so much about him in the last few months, maybe more than I’ve ever written about Virat. I love him so much.

Jasprit Bumrah. The only God I believe in. The game changer. The point of difference. I could write an entire book about how amazing he is and that'll still be less. That man is the sole reason behind me starting to watch the bowling innings too. And now, I'll gladly admit that I enjoy the bowling innings more than the batting one. All because of one man, the man, the myth, the legend.

So many moments yesterday that brought me tears but nothing compares to seeing Hardik cry and talk about it all. I'm so proud to have never trolled that man for whatever has happened, it's a flex to say that I've defended him during that time. People put him through so much and I think he was the one of the people who deserved this win the most. He's a gem.

I could go on and write paras about every single one in this team. All of them are phenomenal and like Rohit and Rahul say, they played their roles exceptionally well. How Sky’s catch changed the winning probability, Arshdeep’s last over, Axar’s contribution with the bat, Kuldeep throughout the tournament. I couldn't be anymore grateful to this team for making this day possible.

It was an insane game. One of the greatest comebacks ever. I’m glad to have never stopped believing in this team. They’ve done what felt impossible at one point. This is a story I’ll tell people for generations to come. I feel so blessed to be supporting and cheering for a team like this and having the good fortune of having watched it live on a screen. I’ll never shut up about this. I’ve witnessed history.

This was my first world cup win ever since the time I started watching cricket. I still don’t think there was a specific someone who got me into cricket, this game just happened to me. And I’m so glad it did because I cannot imagine my life without cricket playing one of the biggest parts in it. Most of my best and worst memories are from watching cricket. If I had to divide my life into phases, it'd always be using cricket. Thank you Team India for all these memories. I will love you forever.

This one’s for my Tumblr people. I love each and every single one of you all so much. I was watching the match all alone in my room but yet I felt like I was celebrating with everyone else with all the live-blogging that we did. Celebrating with people is still a big dream for me as I always watch the matches alone and no one in my house really cares. But you guys made it possible, partially at least. I don’t think I’d have enjoyed the match as much as I did if not for you, my dear Tumblr mutuals. So, a big thank you to you too! <3

Love, A.

[beechersnope]

Summer of Cum Days 16/17/18: snowballing, precome, come slut

lance/fernando, includes girl lance, facefucking, and an imbalanced sexual relationship, 1105 words

***

Every time they do this, it feels like the worst decision Fernando has ever made in his life. It should be a difficult list to top, but somehow, they manage. Sometimes he thinks that bad decisions are all he’s good at anymore.

“Slower,” Fernando tells her, his lips straining around each syllable. It’s never been so hard to remember English as it is when he’s with Lance. “Stay still. Let me do it.”

Lance is on her elbows and knees in her hotel bed. Her bed, because if Fernando ever allowed her in his, he knows she’d never leave. She’s naked, her skin slicked with sweat despite the air conditioner set as low as it’ll go. Lance always runs hot.

Fernando’s cock has been in her mouth for what feels like an hour. It probably hasn’t been that long, because whenever they do this, Lance gets so worked up that she can’t help but get a hand between her clit and the mattress to make herself come with Fernando’s dick down her throat—she knows by now that Fernando won’t do it for her no matter how many times she asks—and so far, they have yet to reach that part of the evening.

“Slow,” Fernando says again as he strengthens his grip on her high ponytail, her thick, dark hair like a length of rope in his fist. He pulls her down, nice and steady, until she has no choice but to swallow around him, her nostrils flaring as the tip of her nose nudges against his pelvis.

Fernando likes it best when it’s like this, when he has her looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He knows what she wants, that if Lance got her way, he’d be fucking her through the mattress until she can’t walk. Or maybe riding him, using his cock to get herself off over and over until he can’t take anymore.

But she’s young, still, and she needs to learn self-control. She’s too clingy, too needy, wants everything all the time. She doesn’t know how to appreciate the things she has that’ll one day be gone.

“Good,” Fernando says encouragingly as Lance finally relaxes under his hands. He slowly draws his cock back out, letting her take a breath, staring at the potent mix of precome and saliva dripping from her mouth, keeping her tethered to his cock as she gasps for air. “Again.”

He’s rougher this time, fucking her face, her throat until she gags, until there’s spit pouring out of her mouth onto the duvet. She takes it. She takes all of it, everything he has to give her, and Fernando has to force himself to slow down again when she stares up at him with watery brown eyes, lashes clumping together with the beginnings of tears.

Fernando wants to touch her, wants to slap her ass, flip her onto her back so he can mouth at her breasts. He wants to come in her pussy, again and again and again. Lance makes him feral, like he could lose his mind. She isn’t the only one who needs discipline, a firm hand.

Like this, they’re on the knife’s edge. Fernando has a duty to them both to keep them from falling off.

He pulls back again. Lance sucks in a sharp breath and reaches up with one hand to grab for his cock. Fernando quickly swats it away.

Lance’s eyes go dark. “I want to make you come,” she tells him, practically throwing a tantrum about it already, though that’s usually the sort of thing that precedes these meetings, rather than occurring during the main event.

“No,” Fernando says simply before fucking back into her mouth again. That’s another advantage of doing it this way. Less talking.

If Fernando was more honest with her—himself, too—they wouldn’t do this at all. There are only two viable paths to choose from: he could quit, and get on his knees for Lance instead; or he could quit, and cut ties with her altogether.

Fernando has, stupidly, chosen to stay.

Lance stares up at him balefully as he slowly slides into the back of her throat again. He’d asked her once what his come tasted like. She’s fascinated by it, delighted even. Never stops talking about how much she loves that he gets so wet for her, that she can taste it as soon as he’s inside her mouth. She swallows every time, his cock so deep inside her that Fernando sometimes wraps a hand around her neck just to feel the slight swell of himself in her throat.

He wants to taste her just as badly, but he’ll never tell.

Fernando thinks about denying her again when he feels himself getting close. Maybe for the fourth time, or the fifth. It’s easy to lose count.

He fucks her even harder instead, his free hand coming up to cradle her cheek, her jaw as he uses her. She struggles to stay upright as she wriggles a hand under herself, the way he’s come to expect. Her tits bounce with every thrust, hard, dark nipples dragging against the mattress.

She’s so beautiful, Fernando thinks, and then he pulls almost all the way out so he can come with just the head of his cock pressed against her tongue.

They stay there like that for a long moment, and then finally, Fernando pulls out. Lance doesn’t say anything when he drops down onto his knees with a pained grunt so he can kiss her. It’s only when she shoves her tongue into his mouth that he realizes why, the sharp brine of his come still thick like batter when she gives it back to him.

It doesn’t feel spiteful, though Fernando thinks that it probably should. If Lance were smarter about all this, maybe it would be. If she were better at playing games.

Lance’s face is radiant when he opens his eyes, their mouths disconnecting with a wet smack. Fernando swallows himself down and sees her see it, watches her smile.

It’s too genuine. He wants to look away. He doesn’t.

He should ask her if she came. He should make her come. He doesn’t.

“When are you gonna fuck me?” Lance asks with a faux pout that doesn’t fully engulf her wry smile. She flops over onto her back and starfishes out on the bed, letting out a wistful sigh before letting her hands drift back down between her thighs. She’s almost absent-minded about it. Not teasing, at all. “Like, actually fuck me?” she wonders.

Never, Fernando thinks to himself. He has to draw a line somewhere.

[ryololart]

Tex's Backstory and Meeting Simon for the First Time

Warnings (all listed here)

Summary: Her childhood roughly and meeting simon

The border from Mexico to The United States is 1,951 miles long running from the Gulf to California. The main point of crossing lies at Ciudad Juarez and El Paso. It is the busiest border with over 300 million people crossing each year. With only three public ports of entry, 650 million dollars a day of goods have to travel through each day. 

Living near the border as a child was an experience to say the least, I saw the horror stories that showed up on the news. From drug deals, children separated from their parents that were jsut  trying to seek asylum, and cartels warring with border control. I saw too much blood as a kid. I knew the familiar sinking of red into the sand and how it smelled when it got hot in the sun. I watched as politicians came and went, claiming they cared and then locked people in cages like animals. I resented the government just as much as I needed them because the stories of deals gone south were just as true as the military coming to build the walls .They told you never  pick up hitchhikers, or stop for a lone car, that’ll be the last thing you ever do. Gunpowder was a familiar smell on Route 90. 

Some of my best friends growing up were immigrants from south of the border, they taught me Spanish, and told me their stories. Carlos was from El Largo, he and his brother were running from the Cartel their father was a part of. He lived down the street in a shack that had been empty for years. They broke in and fixed it up enough to not look suspicious. I had taught him how to replace shingles on a roof and how to put bars over the windows to keep kids from throwing rocks through them. However, his brother sold coke from over the border to make ends meet when he couldn’t get a job. He didn’t speak enough English and skin was too dark. They both died in a train accident when the rival cartel came and blew it up. We lit candles and left flowers at their door. Maia’s family were from Guatemala seeking a better life for her and her five siblings. They walked the entire way only to be made to sleep outside the fence for a half a year while their papers were being processed. Her little sister Nina died from heat stroke that summer. I remember the look on their mother’s face when she got into Sanderson. I had brought the lunch to my brother’s group at the Border Patrol Station where they all huddled together, cups of water in their hands they clung to like they had never seen it before. Outliving your child was one of the worst things to happen to a parent, and the gruesome way little Nina went out made me want to throw up. The desert isn’t kind to those who are fragile and yet she made it, but the government is what failed them. Liana and Marcus were two kids in my class whose family were deported and the two were left behind. They would sleep in the church pews and beg on the streets for money. Those two often stayed at my house when Mason and Papa weren’t home. They were my best friend’s growing up. Liana with her witty attitude and ability to stand up to anyone, and Marcus would throw fists to protect the other Mexican kids in town. They were stronger than I was, always had more grit even when they had nothing to lose. They kept each other going, and some days they kept me going too. 

I grew up in the small, poverty-stricken town of Sanderson, Texas with a population of a little over 600. We have one clinic, a train station, a gas station, a courthouse, two places to eat, a corner store, a library, a highschool, a cemetery, a disgusting motel, and a bizarre museum. It was the classic small town in the middle of nowhere, but at the same time in just the right place for trouble. There was one major place in town, the US Border Patrol Station where people came and went frequently. We were right on the train line coming from El Paso that brought everyone here. It was how the town made the little money we had. Asylum seekers spending what small amounts they had only to get stuck and have to stay for a while. Each week a few families would get off the train and walk the mile out to the UBPS. A few stores and businesses would hire the immigrants but they were unfairly underpaid and coerced into doing the jobs no one else wanted. 

My oldest brother, Mason, was a guard for the UBPS. I wish I could say he was a good man, but he wasn’t. He did things I don’t know if I can even stomach speaking of. Just hearing the door creak open, the shuffle of hard military boots on the weak floorboards, and the disgusting sound of his chirpy voice would make me climb out my bedroom window. I’d rather sleep in the truck bed in the heat of the summer than sleep in the same house as him. He often brought women home from the border only to kick them out on their own the next day. Mason wasn’t even handsome, he just offered that he would help them get on their feet if they paid with their bodies. Sometimes they were single mothers of families desperate for help. He wasn’t gentle either, I often saw them struggling to leave. heading back to the UBPS in the early dawn, covered with bruises. He often would make bets with his other guard friends on whether a kid would cry when they were separated from their parents. Often those kids were taken and never seen again. Trafficking ran rampant during these times. He killed some of them, the ones without papers, the people no one would remember. He would leave what drugs he had that day on their bodies to be found by the dogs. 

Mason is why I can’t stand dogs. He had this mutt, Cargo, vicious thing. He would often neglect him, push him to anger, and reactivity. I felt for him, he was just a dog, a loyal pup who wanted to be loved. Although none of us could get close enough for that without teeth in our arms. He nearly took my finger once. His barking would lead to my hands over my ears, and he often made me sprint inside to avoid him. Ethan and I had to keep him out back because he tried to bite Lucas.

 Mason was very ill, mentally. My friends would avoid him when they came over, hell I avoided him. He was awful to my other brothers and I. When he died in the early 2000s I didn’t flinch, god, I cried in relief. We all took a shot that night, in celebration of that war being fought and won. 

I think my father was the main reason Mason ended up like that. Papa was a cruel man, an alcoholic addicted to cocaine. However, that seemed to be the trend in the Thomas household. I knew he was home by the smell of the burnt rubber and chemicals. When he couldn’t hold a job, which was most of the time, he was doing various odd jobs. He never brought home enough cash to keep us going, especially with the bills from the clinic. He hit us frequently, put a hole in my door more than once, crashed the family’s only car, gave my brothers and I drugs to get us to leave him alone. He was never a father, just a man who abused us and slept on our couch. 

I used to keep my hair short back then, so he couldn’t grab it. Although Mama hated it. She always said she wished I’d kept it long, she only had one baby girl and didn’t need another man in the house. After that I let it grow back out and kept it stuffed up in a cap. She was my world, the only person in my life I was certain I would always love, someone that would never hurt me. Until she got ill. Mama suffered from various forms of mental illness but the worst was her postpartum depression after Lucas was born. I tried not to blame her, I knew how hard it was to live with my father. Hell she married him and had four kids. I did what I could to forgive her knowing it wasn’t her fault, but I was eight when she tried to kill our baby brother and then herself. Left him in the running bathtub while holding my father’s shotgun under her chin. I got him out of the tub while Mason pried the gun out of her hands. 

She faced the worst violence from my father. We all knew it and tried our best to keep him off her. The police had come and taken him away several times but once he got out he just did it again. There was nowhere to go, we had no money, no savings. All of it was spent on drugs. When she died I was thirteen. All the abuse my father had done to her slowly became pushed on to the kids. He had beaten us and screamed at us before, but it was because we weren’t meeting some of his unreasonable expectations. Now it was violence just to be violent. I watched Mason beat the living snot out of him several times and I myself got him on the ground during a few fights we had. Everyone knew my father in the town, knew what he was doing, but it was the 90s, you kept your mouth shut and kept going. What were you to do? Call child services? They would have just laughed into the receiver and hung up the phone.

We lived on 1st street, the farthest one north in town. We took our bikes everywhere because our truck was always broken. I guess that was where I learned I was good with my hands. That house was where I learned that anything could be done with a little bit of physical pushing. I fixed our fallen-through floorboards, collapsed roof, and holes in the walls. I was the one who pulled out and shot the rattlesnake who managed to get into the pipes. I got the truck working when we needed to rush Ethan to the hospital when Father almost beat him to death after he flushed his drugs. I fought Mason when he would bring girls home and force himself on them. I pulled the dog off of Marcus when he tried to jump over the fence to escape the cops. I changed every single one of Lucas’s diapers. I buried Mama with my own money I earned at the hardware store working hours upon hours to get us out of debt. 

Not everything in that house brought me misery however. It’s where my Mama raised me to be a good daughter, her daughter. It’s where we threw Liana and Marcus a birthday party for the first time ever. It’s where Ethan and I raised Lucas to be a good man, who would end the cycle with his own family. It’s where my team stayed when our base was overrun with a cartel and we needed safety. It’s the home I carved it into and goddamn I will die with the blood rotted into the wood. It was where I grew up, for better or worse, I am here now. 

I joined the military as soon as I was old enough. I was promised 20k, 10k before bootcamp and 10k after. The Air Force had set up a base in Val Verde Park just west of Ciudad Acuna. It was called Laughlin Air Force Base. It was two hours from my house and I needed to get away for awhile, find a little peace. When they cut my hair to my shoulders I buried the ends next to my mother. I buried her little girl I was so I could become the woman I was now. I hope she’d be proud of the soldier I have become, because it was in her honor and her sacrifice. She paid the dues and I will carry out the call. The oldest daughter of a broken family’s oath. 

The Air Force stripped me down to my skin and rebuilt me with armor in the fashion of strength, resilience, intelligence, grit, and confidence. It wasn’t that I was lacking these things, but they brought them out as weapons to attack not defend. It was so much different then the guards I grew up with. Their slimy attitudes and total lack of regard for human life. There were the good ones, the one who did it because they genuinely wanted to help, but those are the ones who died quickly. Mercy is a virtue. It is a spark that can be snuffed with a gust of wind just a little too powerful. The only way to feed that into a flame is to fuel it with those who surround you. If they’re the same scumbags who raped, killed, and maimed kids for fun they ain’t gonna be no help to you. 

I was a part of the 47th Maintenance Directorate. I worked on equipment and facilities worth more than the entirety of Sanderson. We worked on Jayhawks, Texan IIs, Talons, and more. I was in the T-38 Aircraft Maintenance Division, mostly focusing on crash recovery. I spent most of my days fixing broken aircraft, assisting in landing, and coordinating movements. Other times it was me, my truck, a radio, and a sandwich sitting in the desert looking for a downed aircraft. It was a good job until the cartels started targeting the base in the late 90s. Those days I had a rifle added to the list. We often fought for ground in the small town and found ourselves doing what we could to defend. One day we had to flee due to a bomb threat and my team and I huddled in my house back in Sanderson when we had nowhere else to go. Lucas loved it, got to hang out with all these cool military men. They taught him some games and songs we learned in bootcamp. Got him to do some exercises and called him “their little man”.

My team were some of the best people I had ever met in my twenty-eight years of life. There were forty of us in the directorate, but only six in my division. Martinez, Cruz, Halcón, Dino, Vaho, and I. Officially my name is Sergeant Master Evangeline Mae Thomas. My initials spell out EMT which no one could stop laughing over as I am the last person to have that as a job occupation. I fix machines, not people. I once couldn’t get a tourniquet on a dummy and the name stuck for a while. 

I fit in there. The barracks became my second home with people I trusted. Martinez was the oldest of seven, had a family to feed and parents to retire. He joined like me, at 18, and rose up through the ranks to get the higher pay grades. I don’t think I had ever seen him slack a day in my life. Cruz and Dino are two twins from over the border, who joined the military to get citizenship. The two are hardwired for trouble but taught me everything I knew about being a technician, just don’t leave an open can around them. Halcón was the best pilot I have met. It was like the console was in his mind and he could control it with his thoughts. He safely would fly damaged and out of control planes back to base after issues being found mid-flight. Not a single thing shook that man. Vaho was our rookie, tough guy from Louisiana. He earned the name Vaho after flying on little-to-no gas without checking with any of us. A little hostile around the edges but give him a cig and he’ll soften like a kitten. 

Papa died in 2003, was drunk and drove into a powerline on Route 90. Took them a few days to find him and his body was already being picked to shreds by the crows. Fitting end for a man plucked the strength of all the people who surrounded him. We didn’t even bury him, let the police do what they wanted. He didn’t deserve to be buried next to my mother and her grave by the spiny star foxtail flowers she loved so much. Mason died the year after, shot in a border crossing gone wrong. His men brought me his gun and I told them to keep it. His funeral was a party, not celebrating his life, celebrating his leaving of us and the destruction he caused. Ethan and I looked at each for the first time with peace in our eyes. 

Ethan was the family member I was closest with. Two years younger than me we grew up as my family’s backbone. We were the two who looked the most alike too, with our straw blonde hair, hazel eyes, and tanned skin from working in the sun. We raised Lucas ourselves when my mother couldn’t and my father wouldn’t. Mason contributed a little bit with the money to keep our house but otherwise he was blowing the paychecks on pleasure. I got a job during my school years to try to provide something. The local hardware store needed someone to do the busy work and labor the owners were too old to do now. Twelve year old me would take the four dollars an hour they were willing to give me. Ethan spent his time making sure Lucas was taken care of in only ways he could. He was the one pulling Mason and my father apart and I was covering Lucas’s eyes in the corner. We had to kick the two of them out many times and when we couldn’t, I stood on the pegs of Ethan’s bike, with Lucas on my back, down to the church. 

My family never were faithfully religious. Sure we went to church for service, but so did every other family in Texas. I think my mother was the only one of us to have any faith in the higher power. I often heard my mother begging God to help her when she thought she was alone in a room. The church wasn’t a sacred place to us, it was somewhere to get away from the horror. Sit in the pews and listen to the priest preach things we know he didn’t mean. He was in my living room doing a line with my father after church on Sundays. He also was notably horrible to the Mexican kids in my town. Liana and Marcus had to hide when they slept there because he would chase them out with a cross. Calling them “dirty mutts”. He never bothered learning Spanish either so when my town started calling him “El hombre que se Cago en Dios” he had no idea we were saying “the man who shits on god.” My town is what it feels like to say the word “blasphemy”, dry and drawn-out. 

I hated Cornell, I swore he looked at my mother a little too longingly somedays.  My mother was gorgeous. Her long dark hair, gentle light eyes, soft smile that could make anyone feel a bit lighter in there. step. She was the definition of grace as her name implied. I threw a bottle at Cornell once when he got too close, and sneaked a hand under a table towards her. The other men at the table didn’t blink twice, but I knew it was wrong. I could feel daggers being shot at me from the eyes of the same men whose hands that touched me like that. He hit me pretty hard after that but Mason didn’t like that. Not that he cared whether I was hurt or not, just that Mason and him really hated each other. I don’t know what happened between the two of them but he was always so tense around him. After he hit me Mason took him out back and beat him in an inch of his life. We weren’t allowed to go to church after that. Tore Mama up but I managed to steal a rosary from my teacher at school and left it hanging on her door.  I don’t know how Ethan and I got Lucas out of here. He now lives in Helotes with his girlfriend Carol, and their daughter, Joyanne. I remember when he came home from school telling us he got a girl pregnant. I had grabbed the phone book searching for the planned parenthood clinic up north, ready to spend my last paycheck on gas to get them there. However they were determined to keep it at just seventeen. At this point Mason had died about three months before so we turned his old room into a nursery. Painting the dark walls that smelled like cigarettes white had to be some kind of karma. Carol got kicked out by her very religious parents and ended up living with us. I made sure to take the chainsaw I fixed up from the dump and cut their mailbox off its post at noon that next day. Not too much damage but enough to make my point in broad daylight. We went from a family of six to three to five. They finished their senior year with their newborn and ended up both getting into Texas State University. With the little money they saved up, a loan, and Ethan's and I’s salaries of a year we got them to get out of Sanderson. They are both finishing up their degrees soon and Joy is almost four. She looks just like her mother, dark hair, big golden eyes, freckled cheeks, and a laugh that could make anyone smile. 

Ethan is a teacher at the local high school. He runs the music department and is the music teacher. It doesn’t pay great but that is what I’m for. He always had a knack for music, taking music sheets and history of the classics from the library. Often we would have to pay for them because Papa would rip them up and throw them at us but we made do. It made him happy to have music. I got him a CD player for his sixteenth birthday with some of my signing bonus. Let him pick out a few CD’s after a trip into San Antonio. I always regret not trying harder to let him have a chance at being a kid. We all deserved a childhood and out of all of us, he spent that time fighting for his. We have done what we could do to keep the house up and running, all our bills on time for the first time in almost 20 years. 

Despite our attempts we still succumbed to the Thomas family illness of addiction. My father used drugs to shut up as kids. I had been smoking, drinking, and taking pills since I was barely 8. I hid it better than my siblings did, I didn’t want the two younger boys to see their sister struggling as much as I did. Ethan really had a rough time in his late teens with cocaine as it helped him get through the long days with Lucas and work on his own. However in a small victory we managed to never let Lucas get his hands on anything, Carol and him are clean. Now we do our best to stay away from drugs but it's hard when all you have done for 20 years is numb the pain. There is no therapy, no doctor, no one who can help you in this wild west. I have been on my own since day one and no doctor is gonna fix this. The desert is cruel. It makes you do things you promised you’d never do. The night, the fights, the scrapping up for just another hour of life pushed humans to the limit. Such a place was not made for us and you did the best you could with what you had.

My mother had been taking xanax for years, she did her best to hide it from my father so he wouldn’t steal them but one day I found it and mistook it for painkillers. I have been trying for twelve years to stop but it’s better than weed and alcohol. It gets me out of my head. I’m on a river, floating, watching the birds go over me. There is no noise, no movement, just languid water pushing me in the river. I can sleep, I can think, I can rest. Each thought that awakens just boards a leaf and goes downstream never to be seen again. It’s my way of coping, even if it kills me. 

I took too much when I was 20, Owens, my commander, found me on the floor in my room completely out of it. My eyes wouldn’t focus, couldn’t move the muscles around my mouth to form words, my bones were like jelly. He had to carry me to the med wing because I would just slump over. He tried to put me in rehab after that but I wouldn’t go. He couldn’t send me home either because I was the sole breadwinner at the time and that was a death sentence. Instead he chose to keep a closer eye on me and I got better about hiding it. I tried to stop it but it was hard when it was so beautifully numbing. The world was so cruel and after so many years of blinding white grief I needed to take the edge off.

Liana and Marcus finally managed to get a trailer and live in The Park at the east edge of town. We had found it up north a bit in the middle of nowhere. The thing was run down and beat up. The insides are full of mold and dry rotted wood. All the old plush walls and seats had fallen apart and become deflated. We tore the entire inside out and replaced the wood. I had some extra furniture from the barracks and some we found at the flea market and spiced the inside up a bit.  Liana works for the US Border Patrol Station trying to help kids crossing the border. She gets in contact with families who need to immigrate but are having a problem moving everyone. She’ll work with them to get the kids over and get them a placement until their parents can join them. Marcus joined the Marines right out of high school. He got stationed in the Middle East and I haven’t seen him for awhile. Letters he has sent me says he is well, fighting away from the frontlines. Desert storm has been hard on all of us and I couldn’t imagine being out there. We see each other when we can but life takes you down different paths. Maia moved out of Sanderson not too long ago, headed up to Oklahoma with a boy. I haven’t talked to her in 10 years, as soon as she could get out of Texas she did. I don’t blame her. Texas will eat you up and spit you back out. It’s one big rattlesnake's nest and one wrong step you are dead.

 When I was 19 in bootcamp we had a kid from the north come to train with us. He had never been to Texas. Didn’t understand that it’s not a place, it’s an entity. The desert is not forgiving to those who are foreign. We stumbled across a Western-Diamondback Rattlesnakes nest, I and the others knew to avoid but he stepped right into it. It was like every noise nature that could produce sound, sounded out at once. Cicadas, crickets, birds, coyotes, they all called out to the maker. I watched his blood sink into the desert sand. It poured from his eyes, nose, ears, any hole he could flow out of it. He twitched, calling out for his mom in short grumbles, the whites of his eyes popped out of his sockets as he convulsed. Then he was still, the world was still. Commander carried him back and was the one to call his mom. My heart flinched as it was the same way I cried for my mother when she died. The longing, the need, the love with nowhere to go. This is the land of free, free from tyranny not consequences. Watch your step. 

When I got the call a few mornings ago to head to base because a missing British soldier had crawled across the border, I was bewildered. A man from the north crossed the desert. Not just crossed, but pulling himself across the sand with his scarred hands. I sat in his hospital room in Val Verde Regional Medical Center being told the story he could conjure up to the guards at the gate. I got in contact with the British Embassy to phone his commander, and it turns out Major Vernon was MIA. I just fell down the rabbit hole, learning whatever I could about this man. His name was Simon Riley, 28, from Manchester, England. Oldest brother of two, past jobs included a butcher job for three years, and then 6 years of service joining right after 9/11. He had originally been KIA but after this discovery it was revoked.

He was cut up real good, several long lasting injuries that didn’t heal right. Slowly patching up scars all around his mouth and face, a huge hook-like cut on his chest and just general torture looked. His eyes were bloodshot and the gray in the middle appeared as a soft blue. His skin was ghostly pale for a man who crawled across the Coahuila Desert. He was very weak, and couldn’t stay awake for longer than a few minutes. 

Finally after a few days he woke up. Sitting up in the hospital bed he looks small for someone who is so tall. His face is constantly scanning the room as if someone is going to reach out and get him. He is shell-shocked to his core as if he was prey. However, there was this anger in his eyes when he was awake. It was white and hot, flashing in front of me when our gaze met. For someone who could barely move, his fury could move mountains. I recognized that anger, it’s what got me through eighteen years in that house in Sanderson.

“Well look what the cat dragged in all the way from Mexico,” I say as I push the curtains to his room open. He flinches and pulls at the cuffs keeping him in the bed. A groan escapes his lips as his muscles fight against his quick movements. “Now don’t hurt yourself there lad. Your identification says you are a lieutenant all the way across the Atlantic. Mr. Riley, how you ended up in my neck of the woods, safe to say I don’t want to know. How you crossed that desert in the middle of winter, I don’t want to know. We already contacted the commanding officer above your clearly dead Major Vernon. We will get you home as soon as you heal up a bit. Till then you are my responsibility, Soldier. Name’s Sergeant Master Evangeline Mae Thomas, my boys call me Evan.” 

[suspicious-whumping-egg]

Low Profile Part 18: Revealed

Series masterlist here. Major spoilers in this one, cannot be read as a stand-alone. Please start from the beginning if you aren’t familiar with the series. Enjoy!

~~

A stranger stared back at Hale from the screen. 

His hair was long, thick curls down to his shoulders. He wore makeup— gold, shimmering eyeshadow, eyeliner sharp as a blade, mascara that had run in tear trails down his bruised face. His arms folded in front of him were littered with dark, mottled track marks that peeked from the edges of his rolled-up shirtsleeves. 

“If you’re watching this, future me, I’m sorry. I’m so, so fucking sorry. Uh, your name, if you’ve forgotten that too, is Hale Ellison. Or, it used to be. Maybe you’re better off with a new life altogether. I guess not, ‘cause then you wouldn’t be watching this. But you are. 

And if you’re not me and you’re watching this, assume the worst has happened. And I’m only risking the worst ‘cause it’s gotta get out there. Someone has to stop them. I can feel it slipping away… I wrote it all down, before they can make me forget, it’s all on the drive— just get the code. I’ll remember it if it fucking kills me. Get it, even if you have to torture it out of me. Someone’s gotta make the killing stop.” 

He took a long, shaking breath, wiping his face with his palm and leaving a smear of black behind. 

On the other side of the screen, Hale watched mutely, eyes wide and stricken. Viper eased a warm mug into his hands, but he barely registered its existence. 

“God. I don’t know where to begin. How much they’re gonna make me forget. But uh, I’ve gotta start somewhere. Wayford. 

When I was around eleven, my father committed a mass murder of those who sought to uncover his secrets. The Ellison legacy is built on nothing but blood money, but anyone who dares mention it…” he shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut for a minute and feeling along the crook of his elbow as if to assure himself there was nothing there. 

“Let’s just say, he doesn’t take kindly to any reminders. But yeah. The richest of the rich pay him for all sorts of shit. Got a political candidate that needs to be conveniently sick, injured, even dead?  Want a personal supply of trafficked people at your doorstep to destroy one by one? Need a protest to turn into a bloodbath to prove a point? Human meat for a luxury banquet? Julian Tucker Ellison can get it done in a heartbeat,” he said bitterly, face twisting in disgust. 

“The whole family was in on it, except for me. Decided I was too weak, too soft. But the things I’ve heard… I couldn’t let them go unnoticed. I’ve been collecting evidence since I was sixteen, recording top-secret meetings, uploading bank wires, decrypting files. Made it four years playing off every close call as innocent curiosity, and a fifth working with the mafia to stay better hidden. They like to blame them, anytime an incident goes a bit too public. Turns out the enemy of my enemy is the best asset I’ve got. Strategically invaluable, but don’t trust a thing they say. “ 

Hale’s gaze darted to Viper, then back to the screen, like he was waiting for him to turn it off. Slam the laptop shut before Hale learned too much. But Viper only gave him a solemn nod, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly, and let the video play on. 

“You— I— dammit. I don’t even know where you’re at right now. Who you’re friends with. But currently, I’m closest with two of the mobsters working right under the queen bee. Silas Bevereaux, right hand man and the only person I’ve met who’s more ruthless than good ol’ Julian himself. Head medic as well, knows his way around any and every drug. He’s helped me counteract the effects of— of— of the shit they’ve been giving me. The doctors, if they can be called that, under my father’s instruction. For now at least, I still have the freedom to move around during the day. But at night, I’m theirs. They’ve tried keeping me under a cocktail of hallucinogens, hypnosis, amnestics— anything that’ll make me question reality. Destabilize me enough that no one will trust me even if I do spill the family secrets. Let me out during the day, completely batshit, so everyone knows I’m just the family freak. If not for Silas, it would’ve worked. He’s handy with a gun too, can take out a crowd of 100 in seconds with nothing but a glock. And he will. Beg him for help if you have to, but don’t trust him for a second. 

And Viper. Insists he doesn’t have a last name. Where do I even start?” 

Hale took a tentative sip of his chai, which had begun to grow cold. Guess it wasn’t important enough to the old me that we were lovers, he thought bitterly. Or maybe he’d had too much confidence in himself, that surely he’d never forget his own boyfriend. At the mention of his own name, Viper stiffened next to him. His jaw tensed, he pulled his knife out of his pocket and started toying with it on instinct. 

“Can’t go back, love,” he muttered to Hale. “I warned you.” 

The Hale on the screen sighed brokenly.

“We were friends. Brothers. Lovers, after that. He helped me through the side effects, the withdrawals, the beatings. Plotted revenge with me when I was hurting too much to move. And if you’re watching this, Viper, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Hale slammed the  space bar of the laptop so hard that he was surprised it didn’t break. 

“What the fuck are you?” He snapped to the stranger beside him, the mug slipping from his hands and shattering on the tiled floor. 

“It’s a deepfake, isn’t it? Some sick jab to get back at Silas for being a half-decent human being? Well it’s not gonna fucking work.” 

“We had an agreement, the two of us,” Viper said icily. 

“You believed that if so much pain and pressure and despair could shock your mind into retreating inside itself, the same conditions would be required to bring it back. And maybe, just maybe, I’m fucking sick of you. He’d hate you. You’d hate yourself, if you knew any better.” His voice was laden with vitriol, eyes narrowed to slits. 

“And Silas? He just thought torture doesn’t work, plain and simple. You said it yourself, even if you forgot. He’s ruthless.” 

Hale shook his head. 

“Someone who loved me wouldn’t fucking do this,” he retorted. “You faked it, then, didn’t you? Seduced me into giving you what you needed? Showed your true colors once they brainwashed me into oblivion?” 

“I already said. I loved him, I hate you. ‘Cause you’re the reason he’s not here with me. Whatever they turned you into, it replaced the man I love. And I’ll do anything to you if it means getting him back.”  

“We’re the same fucking person!” Hale cried. “Hurting me hurts the person you loved too, ‘cause we’re one and the fucking same! Get a grip!” 

Viper seized Hale by the shoulders before he could utter another word, throwing him to the ground and landing a brutal kick to his chest. 

“He’s locked up in there somewhere, and you’re not letting him out,” Viper hissed. 

“This was never about the drive, was it?” Hale forced out, ribs throbbing. “This was about taking it all out on me that you weren’t fucking good enough to save me before they did this, wasn’t it? Pretending I’m a whole different person ‘cause then it means I can be your punching bag? You’re fucking sick.” 

Viper just gave a sad smile, edged with smug, unmistakable victory.  

“Oh, Hale. You don’t understand, do you? There is a drive, but it’s been hacked. We already have the code, the files, all the evidence we need about your family. The only thing we still need is you. The real you. Someone’s gotta be able to attest to the horrors of your family firsthand. Someone’s gotta put this all together, and you’re the only one who knows how. And… well, I’ll let you hear yourself say it.” 

He reached up to the laptop again, not bothering to help Hale back onto the couch. 

“Do whatever it takes to get us back. I swear I’ll come back to you, love. I’ll come back, no matter how long it takes. I won’t forget you.” 

The Hale on the screen was earnest, soft, even reverent for the most fleeting of seconds. Amidst the trembling hands that no amount of chemicals managed to erase, the tears he choked back, the terrified glances over his shoulder. 

“And future me, I’m sorry about all of this. Hope you remember it all soon enoguh so it’ll all just be a bad dream. I’ve told Viper to do whatever it takes to get me back, and I mean it. The memories, they’re already slipping away. I’m barely myself. And I’m not gonna let them win. I’m sorry, for what he’s gonna do to you. For what’s already been done. But you’re gonna remember, and you’re gonna understand. I swear it.” 

Taglist: @morning-star-whump @whumpkitty @shameless-dumbass @hurtthemgently @gala1981 @avvail @d-cs @whumpedydump

[hearts4farryn]

July 19, 2023

TW! ed, sa, addiction, basically dead dove don’t eat

After years of an ed, I finally find myself on Tumblr; the HOLY GRAIL of disordered people. You’d think after 3 years of therapy, several hospital trips, and multiple attempts i’d learn my lesson. At this point I think I just like wallowing in my mental illnesses. Once quarantine started, I just went spiraling down a path in the wrong direction. But this year has been the most wild point of my life. It’s funny, a couple weeks ago my step-dad asked me if I had hit rock bottom. His question didn’t sprout from just a few of my life’s mishaps though. My biological dad who lives across the United States sent my and in-depth suicide note through his Gmail; causing me to stress over him for weeks. A few months earlier I had been raped by a man in his 20’s, but he got shot 2 weeks after. Karma’s a bitch when it needs to be. And finally, the cherry on top, my parents and relatives found out my therapist was grooming me. I knew that his sexual advances towards me weren’t necessarily normal, but he has told me countless times I was “one of a kind” and he “thought about me often.” The worst part of him grooming me was people finding out. I could handle that my middle aged therapist (who was actually very cute!) found me attractive and had other plans than me just being a client to him. I didn’t mind it. Being victimized and the stress of taking legal action was a completely different topic. Thank God, my parents decided to stray away from the police. I’ve already had enough encounters with them anyway. Back to my step-dad saying I hit rock bottom, I already knew I hadn’t. Not even a week after he asked, I overdosed on my bedroom floor with Euphoria playing in the background. No fucking joke. This was also not on purpose (surprisingly) and I had been using for a long time before this. My blue leds were on too. My mom found me in my bed; grey-faced, convulsing, while my friend held back tears as she watched death almost swallow me whole. My mom dragged me to the floor, called 911, and started CPR. Mind you I was in a thong and bra during all of this. EMTS eventually arrived at my house and I woke up to lights flashing in my eyes and realizing everyone there has seen me half naked. I cried in the ambulance and apologized to the officer beside me countless times. To be honest, he was probably getting pissed and how much i was whining and the amount of “I’m so sorrys” i was throwing out there. If anyone out there has experienced addiction and thought, “oh! there’s no way that’ll happen to me! i know what i’m doing.” There is always a way. ALWAYS. Especially with hard shit. I’ve been sober since then and hope to continue, but i still haven’t processed it fully. Instead of realizing it was a very serious situation, I just giggle at the thought of it and move on. Anyways, all this crazy shit has sprouted into my life after my first heartbreak. I had been cheated on after I poured everything into a relationship. At the same time, what did I expect out of a teenage boy? I won’t go too in depth about that, it’s always the same story for everyone. Now Im about 2000 miles from home, with my childhood best friends. It’s a nice and quiet break from everything. I just kind of relive the same day and don’t have to worry about being around my triggers. These 3 weeks have been the easiest weeks to get clean. I just hope i stay clean, i honestly never know. Without a therapist, I’m just going to have to figure shit out on my own and hope I’m doing life right. This year I’ll be going into my sophomore year of high school, and I kind of can’t wait for summer to be over. But first I need to be skinny!! I want to be sickly. That’s just kind of what I’m relying on to cope right now. If anyone needs to rant in my dms they are always welcome, I am here for this community! I get it. This is my first update here, I’m not sure if anyone will read it but hi if u do! Thank you for listening!

xoxo

farryn

[hana-akari]

A small smile rested on Sakura’s lips as he spoke of his mother. There was a mix of fondness and sadness in his tone. Something most people would miss. Most people thought Sasuke was pretty emotionless and hard to read but not to her. He was an open book. Everything he did was subtle but there. Especially around her. It always made her happy that he felt comfortable enough to be emotionally vulnerable around her. There were not many people out there he would feel comfortable with talking about his family like this. 

“She… Looks like that kind of person. I know I would have loved her. Loved your whole family.”

It always made her sad to think about how she’ll never get to meet them. She’d never get the chance to invite them to their wedding or share in the joys of life in general. Often when she walked the empty streets of the compound to reach Sasuke’s home, she imagined the streets full of life. People going about their day. Wondering what the clan was like when everyone was alive.

Carefully, Sakura stepped closer, cupping Sasuke’s chin to make him look at her, “You look so much like her. You have her warm eyes and welcoming smile.” She brushed some of his hair out of his face. Sakura could see a bit of his father in him when he was looking stern or deep in thought but he mostly resembled his mother in her opinion,

“I hope I get to take care of you for a long time to come. I want to stay at your side. But we take care of each other more than just me taking care of you.”

Sakura’s hand lowered, a bit surprised that Sasuke expressed wanting to meet her parents. They’ve been together a long time. They even lived together! But Sakura has avoided Sasuke ever meeting her family. She didn’t talk too much about her childhood or her family life but the few things that she’s let slip it was clear it wasn’t the best. There was a reason Sakura had such a poor self image of herself. Which has gotten better over time. Sasuke has helped it greatly. He reminded her often that he thought she was perfect the way she was. But every time she was around her parents, all that self doubt and self hatred crept right back up to the surface,

“It’s more they’ll hurl insults at me than you. Tell you that you can do better than me. Or say I’m a pig that would make a terrible wife. That I don’t do enough for you. Nothing I’ve done has ever been good enough for them. Sometimes I wonder if they take pleasure in seeing me hurt.”

A small frown rested on her lips as she looked away from him. The hand that was once so gently cupping his chin was balled up and rested against her chest now,

“I’ve just avoided you seeing the kind of people I’ve grown up around and… Part of me worries that they’ll convince you to think less of me. Even if I know that’ll never be the case. They’re just very good at painting me in the worst light possible.”

Sasuke travelled back into his mind, struggling to remember the finer details of his mother's gaze, or her voice. All valuable assets of her character lost to bloodshed and time.

" She... " he trails off, brow furrowed with vexation, failing to recall anything at all, " I have never known her to be unkind. Not to me, Itachi, nor my father. Even when... Itachi chose to kill her, " he clears his throat, " she did not fight it. Smiled at the end, he told me. " Showed, actually, but he was threading into unmarked territory of where he could not discern truth from untruth and never will.

Over on the side, his gloved fingers traces circles over the varnished tabletop, " she would have found you to be a good woman: intelligent, about your wits, kind, taking good care of me. " The last part more important than the rest, he was certain.

Sakura mentions her own family and Sasuke's kneejerk response was none too civil ( I'd slash their throat for the grievance ), choosing to pinch his lips shut into a disapproving frown. " I'd meet them because it's the proper thing to do. I don't care if they hurl insult or snark at me, " he said, knowing full well he wasn't the person of concern here.

[shigarakisbabyy]

The MHA boys x reader with an anxiety disorder part 3

Here’s a part 3 since everyone liked parts 1 and 2 so much! Reader is gender neutral.

Warnings: anxiety, obvs. Mentions of medication. Slight rudeness over anxiety.

Mirio Togata

This lil sunshine boy probably doesn’t have anxiety, but being friends with Amajiki he 100% gets it.

If ur panicking during class he’ll drag you out and sit with you somewhere quiet and talk it out with you if you want. And if you just want silence he’d be more than happy to comply

Constant checking in. Literally all the time. He is so protective and doting over u it’s honestly sickening.

If you ever can’t sleep because you’re anxious he’d stay up with you and cuddle you until you fell asleep

He’d try his absolute best to get you into therapy and or get medicated, since he knows that a boyfriend/girlfriend can’t solve all your mental health problems. If you’re already medicated he’ll make sure you take it when you need to.

If you don’t like loud noises or have social anxiety like Amajiki, he can’t promise he’ll change his entire personality but he’ll probably try and dial back his explosive and loud personality, at least when you’re around.

Tamaki Amajiki

This poor boy has been there done that, there is no other person you could’ve ended up with who understands an anxiety disorder better than him.

This definitely leads to a lot of stay-in days and late nights of y’all just cuddling and talking about everything that’s worried you or made you panic.

He’d want to know everything that triggers you. Literally everything. He’d try his absolute best to keep you away from anything that’ll make you panic. Do the same for him plz

This boy is so gentle and caring it’s so cute. If you’re panicking or even if you’ve just had a shitty day you best believe he’s there and trying his best to calm you down or help you through it.

He’d honestly try and get your mind off it more than anything, distractions can help an awful lot, especially when dealing with an irrational fear or when you’re anxious over “nothing”.

He’d give the best advice and coping strategies tbh, you both would work together to find ways that work the best for the both of you to cope.

Present Mic

This man has probably not had an ounce of anxiety in his life, but he def knows how to help and aid someone who’s having a panic attack because he’s a hero and a teacher.

“M-mic? I’m super anxious and I’ve had such a shitty day…”

Mic, instantly making a pillow fort on the bed and inviting you to sit down: “Wanna talk it out over some cuddles?”

He probably wouldn’t give very good advice, but he at least knows how to calm someone down. He honestly probably doesn’t fully understand it. Therapy will be needed lmfao.

If you need someone to talk to he’ll be there, and if you just want to chill in peace and quiet he’d be down for that too.

He’d very patient and overall just a calming presence to be around. Ur in good hands :)



Endeavor

He doesn’t get it, to be honest. The only time he’s ever gotten anxiety is whenever actual serious things happen, it’s not an every day or common thing he has to deal with.

He would def try his best to understand and help you though. Although it can probably be a bit rude

“Why are you panicking? There’s no reason for it, it’s stupid”

If you explain to him how your anxiety disorder works and that you can’t help it, he’d try his best to help you. Get therapy though, this man gives shitty advice.

Hed research into it for you and look up ways to help someone you love through anxiety/ how you can help someone with anxiety. He tries so hard, it’s kinda cute tbh. He just doesn’t wanna fuck up with someone again.

He’d let you talk to him if you need someone to talk to, or if you just want peace and quiet he’s there too. He can’t promise he’ll understand or be of much help, but he’ll certainly put forth a good effort.

All Might

You cannot tell me this man DOESNT have one of the worst cases of anxiety known to man. You end up helping him most days than he helps you

He’d honestly give great advice and be a really good person to talk to. He wasn’t number 1 for so long for nothing.

There’d be a lot of chill, stay inside days where you guys just relax and enjoy each other’s company. You both having anxiety and his compromised state doesn’t exactly mean you get to go on adventures very much.

Overall, extremely healthy. He’d remember what triggers you and what calms you down, and you’d better do the same for him.

This man is so gentle it’s insane. So comforting. So caring. Hell yeah. He just gets it, when you’re panicking and can’t string together sentences to describe what you’re feeling, he just knows what’s up. Is it another quirk???

You best believe this man would give the best cuddles to help with your anxiety. He’s a god. Fuck yeah.

[wh0reifyoudontexist]

hi, i think the worst thing a man can do is cheat on a pregnant woman so could i request a fic with draco with that plot?

but that draco really loves his wife and someone from his environment influences him to cheat on her and from there whatever you want to happen:(

WAAAAAH ANGST MY FAVORITE

first words

draco malfoy x reader

post hogwarts

angst

request: yes | no

summary: draco cheats on his pregnant wife (i am not good at summaries excuse me)

warnings: curse words, cheating, i think that's it? tell me if i missed a few 😽

masterlist | navigation

"shit"

first word ever said between the two of them, needless to say that's the start of a romance novel; cliche isn't it?

spilled coffee all over a cream colored blouse, tears threatening to fall out of lids, ears ringing and full of apologies falling out of the mouth of a blonde that stood in front of her, one hand grasping a handkerchief, the other on her waist guiding the woman onto the side of diagon alley.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to," he said sincerely carefully damping the cloth in hand on her brown stained blouse, "let me make it up to you?" he questioned finally looking up at her, who's brows have been furrowed the whole time.

instead of answering, she lifted one of her arms, eyes straight on the watch enclosed on her wrist, before rubbing her face with both of her hands sighing loudly, "sure." she finally said, dismissing the thought to tell him she was expected to be in an interview 10 minutes ago.

and instead let him lead her to a cafe with his hand on her back.

that was a decade ago. now 29 married and pregnant with the same man who cost her a job; not that she needs one now.

setting down the cup of tea, circling her thumb on her swollen belly, feeling a kick "hi there darling, how you holding up in there?" she smiled, "your daddy's gonna be here soon, bet you're excited aren't you?" she whispered as she bought her hand up to kiss it before placing it on top of her stomach once more, rubbing it gently, "love you, little one"

what she didn't know? oh, it was that her husband wasn't going to 'be here soon'

she laid in bed moving to lay on her left, hand smoothing out her husband's side, brushing away non-existent dirt. 'he must have a lot of work left' was her mindset at that moment,

breathing out a sigh, she kissed her hand one last time for the night, placing it right above her stomach heading to sleep.

"don't you miss it?"

"shove off, dilton. i need to get home," draco said pushing away his co-worker out of his way, ready to go home and be greeted by his lovely wife, ready to smother her with kisses, ready to talk to his unborn son.

"oh come on malfoy! just this once, please?"

is he serious?

convincing a married man to cheat on his wife? his pregnant wife?

ignoring him, he continued his way to the floo network of the ministry, only to be stopped by aaron dilton's voice,

"you really have changed, what happened to the malfoy back at hogwarts? the one who wouldn't give a single fuck about the girls he slept with? you're boring, that must be how it is for married men. don't you ever get bored of your wife?"

if draco wasn't listening before he definitely was now, ears turning red at the mention of his wife spoken of so in such a vile manner,

but no. if only that wasn't the case, he wouldn't admit it but something did snap inside of him at dilton's words causing him to turn around, face him and do something that will leave him feeling nothing but regret the following day,

but that's a problem meant to be solved tomorrow.

"where were you?"

he froze, steps halting when he lifted his face to look at his wife, a furrow adorning her brow, wrapped around a midnight blue robe, furs at the end. "got caught up with work," he lied "sorry love"

"that's alright. come on up, let's sleep" something about her tone made him think she didn't believe him,

and why would she? his hair's all ruffled, shirt untucked and rumpled, but that's what happens when you're too busy stressing right? you forget about how you look, and sigh frustratedly, hands rubbing your face roughly that you look like you've just awoken from a deep slumber.

oh how he wished that was what happened, heart breaking at the thought of someone hurting her wife, mentally or physically, but what hurt more? knowing that it was him that'll hurt her,

but it doesn't matter she won't find out... right?

the next time it happens, he wasn't pushed into doing it, he wanted to prove something. he wanted them to know that he was still the same as they were in hogwarts, something about him turning soft made him frustrated, frustrated about what his fellow peers will say,

and the next time it happens, he won't be so lucky as the last, he shouldn't have even gotten away with it

skipping work with his 'friends' and going home so early to not be suspected of anything,

by the time he enters the door to their manor, he froze mid-step upon seeing his wife approaching him a cup in hand, a smile on her blemish free face.

"hi, i missed you," she breathed onto his neck, her head tucked between the area where his neck and shoulder met,

unbeknownst to him, she was trying her hardest not to let a tear slip from her eyes, smelling cheap perfume stuck on his skin, small and unnoticeable marks on his porcelain skin, you have to really squeeze your eyes to see them, for her case she doesn't have to, it's so close to her face that she had to turn her head to the other side before finally letting him go,

"i didn't know you were gonna be home so early, i haven't prepared any food yet," she spoke trying her best to keep her voice steady as possible though failing as there was a little crack at the end, which the tall man didn't even notice.

doesn't he love her anymore? how did he not notice that little squeak of her voice? isn't he supposed to know every little thing about his significant half?

"it's okay love," he kissed her head, sniffing a bit of her watermelon shampoo, heart breaking a little more,

"i'll do it. you deserve it." he smiled pecking her lips one last time before disappearing inside the kitchen, the pregnant woman left to stand outside in the cold room.

"love, dinner's ready" he called softly beside the sleeping figure, she answered with a nod, gathering to pull herself up from the couch only to be stopped by a hand coming in front of her eyesight,

she took hold of it reluctantly lifting her and her son up and away from the comfy abode she wished would swallow her up.

'i'm ready' those words were repeating in her mind as she sat silently on her side of their bed waiting patiently and nervously for her hus— draco to finish in the bathroom.

once she heard the sound of a door opening, clicking just as fast as it opened, she spoke

"how could you?" no need to act stupid, be straight and blunt.

"darling? how could i what?" taking a shower was no use, he was already starting to sweat,

"no need to act stupid, draco." was all she said before standing up from her position and packing up her belongings,

maybe it's the hormones, but she does not want to see his face again.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to"

flashbacks happened. she was taken back to the time where they first met, the first thing he ever said to her.

anger took over her appearance but just sighed loudly not wanting to pick a fight afraid it'll cause something to their baby.

"please, darling let's talk about this. don't leave. i love you, so so much," he began as tears streamed down his face as he knelt in front of her hugging her legs to keep her from going, bags in hand.

"draco." she sighed, tired. but he wouldn't move, he can't afford to lose her, the love of his life,

"draco, please!" she shoved him away from her legs before it's too late and she forgives him.

"just- just please.. i need time." she stated before going out their bedroom,

"shit!" she exclaimed when her hand accidentally hit a vase, causing it to shatter and make a loud banging noise all throughout the empty, and lonely manor.

ironic isn't it? how her first words are also the last words she'll say to him, leaving him a broken mess,

part 2

[alluringjae]

au cours de l’été - jjh

⤑ translation: over the summer

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

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

⤑ masterlist

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

3 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)

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

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

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

“Jaehyun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”

12 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

début de juillet 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s infatuated by you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“En voyant notre mine ravie,”

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

“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”

Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.

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

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

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

“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”

À la mi-juillet de 1957

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Call me that again, please.”

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

“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)

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

This time, it’s different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fin de juillet 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep them on when you ride me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”

16 octobre 1957

Autumn made its way to the countryside.

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

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

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

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

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

“Still breathtaking.”

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

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

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

“Write to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, what was he up to?

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

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

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

You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.

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

21 octobre 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get to the point please!” You screeched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could the next summer come any faster?

14 février 1958

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your fairytale.

“Jaehyun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He spoke about me to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he your favorite muse?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So tell me about your new book.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What really went down in Provence?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.”

6 ans plus tard (1964)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?

It no longer did after getting married.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

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

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

Excluding being drenched from the rain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.

[albertasunrise]

Let the Best Man Win - Part 10

Masterlist

Summary: You’ve known Frankie all your life and have harboured a crush on him for as long as you can remember. Thing is, he doesn’t feel the same. Little do you know, his best friend has a thing for you. What happens when you learn this leads to a messy chain of events that’ll leave more than one person with their heartbroken…

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of character death, brief description of childbirth.

Notes: So we're up to the movie now however, I've changed some

(a lot) of the details to suit the story. Hope you enjoy 😘 Also... sorry 😅

Part 1, Part 2 Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

6 months later...

He's sworn he was just doing a recce. Some consulting work for Santi that would take him away from home 4 days tops. You'd been unsure at first. He'd promised you he was done with stupid. That this was a job that would help them, help with the new baby and for that reason and that reason alone. You'd let him go.

Over a week had gone by now and you'd heard nothing from any of them. Molly had been calling you, chasing news on Tom and you'd had to give her the same answer each time. You didn't know anything. You watched your phone every day, waiting for that phone call from one of them to let you know that they were home alive and safe but as each day passed your started to fear the worst.

Your four-month-old daughter had grown fussier and fussier the longer he was gone. She'd become accustomed to Frankie feeding her at night, bathing her and putting her to bed as you did the brunt of the work during the day. Now all she had was you and it was clear that she missed him.

But then so did you.

Ten days after he left, you finally got a call. Ben's name flashed on your display and you practically sobbed when you saw it.

"Ben thank god." You sobbed "Where are you? How are you? How's Frank?"

"Bug slow down." He said and you did, calming your breathing as you waited for him to answer.

"I'm okay." He started and you breathed a sigh of relief "As for where I am and Fish... well, Bug-"

Your blood turned to ice at his change of tone and you immediately assumed the worst "What happened Ben?"

"The recce went sideways." He stated and you sobbed.

"What do you mean?"

"We lost Tom, and Frank... well we met some unsavoury characters on the way home." He continued and you felt your lungs tighten "Now I need you to know that he's alive Bug. We're back and he's getting the best possible treatment-"

"Treatment for what Ben?" You yelled and he sighed.

"He was involved in a car accident." He said and you broke "Some kid soldiers rammed the vehicle he was driving over and over. He managed to get everyone to safety but he suffered some internal bleeding. We didn't even know until we were back and he collapsed at the baggage collection."

"I need to see him, Ben." You sobbed as your eyes gazed down at little Ava in your arms "What hospital are you at?"

"Bug-"

"Don't you, Bug, me." You growled "He is my husband and I need to see him. Where are you?"

"We're at SAMMC Hospital." He answered and you nodded

"I will be there in an hour."

You said nothing else. You were too angry to say anything else. You hung up, grabbed what you needed for Ava and yourself and you left.

~

On the outside, Frankie looked fine, all except for the tube down his throat. When you'd arrived the doctor had given you the down low. Frankie had suffered severe trauma to his abdomen resulting in internal bleeding. The bleed had been slow which is why Frankie hadn't known about it until he'd collapsed at the airport that morning.

Ben had then stood to one side and watched as you inspected the state that your husband was in. Knowing full well that he was going to get an earful at some point.

"What happened Ben?" You asked after a while and he jumped a little in surprise.

"I told you we-"

"I want the truth, Ben." You growled, turning to face him "Was this just a recce or was it more?"

"Bug I-"

"BEN." You yelled and Ava started to cry "Shit." You growled through gritted teeth as you scooped her up "Don't bullshit me."

"It was meant to be a simple Recce but then Santi talked us all into taking care of the job ourselves."

"And the job was?"

"Talking down a drug lord." He confessed and you gasped "We got him. Apprehended some cash but then everything went to shit. Tom got greedy. Will managed to sort a bird for us and despite Fish telling Tom that the weight was too much, Redfly made him fly anyway."

"Shit Ben." You whispered and he scraped a hand over his tired face.

"We crashed on a coke farm, Frank managed to get us down with minimal injuries but then we were forced to walk. Tom got killed in the andies by one of the villagers and then it was just a case of getting what we could back."

"You're all fucking idiots." You snapped and Ben couldn't hold back his tears anymore "He's on death's door again because you all thought you could take a druglord down without any consequences?"

"He just wanted to give you and the baby a better life." He sobbed and you scoffed.

"How much did you all get?" You asked, curious to see whether the haul had been worth it.

"Nothing in the end." Ben confessed, "We put all our shares into a fund for Red's family."

"How noble of you." You growled and Ben choked on a sob as he watched you pace.

"He swore to me that he was done with doing stupid shit." You sobbed "He swore to me and he broke that promise."

"Bug please." Ben pleaded but you shook your head.

"No." You cried "I'm done with this."

"Bug-"

"Keep me up to date on his progress." You stated as you placed Ava in her carrier and grabbed her bag "I'll be staying with friends indefinitely."

"Bug this will kill him." Ben begged and you scoffed at his statement.

"Well, he should have thought of that before he broke my trust for the final time."

"Please, don't do this to him."

You said nothing. You left without a single glance because this was the final straw for you.

You didn't know if you could come back from this.

Just four months prior, everything was perfect. You'd worked through your issues and had welcomed your daughter into the world. Now you were back to square one and you were at a loss for what to do because, despite everything, you still loved him.

Before the lies, he was the perfect husband. The perfect father... but you weren't sure that was enough. You weren't sure you could forgive him this time.

~

Will was sat vigil at Frankie's side when you next came by. You'd not been able to sleep knowing he was there, hanging on by a thread whilst you packed your things to stay with your friend. You'd left Ava with her so you could visit and you'd tried not to break when you found him in the same state he'd been a few days before.

"How is he?" You asked softly and Will looked up in shock, not hearing you arrive.

"He's developed a fever." He answered after a few tense seconds "They're monitoring it but it's not so high that they're concerned right now."

"Okay." You replied with a slight nod before making your way to his side.

"He's been through tougher scrapes than this." Will continued "He'll pull through."

You still said nothing. Just stared numbly at your husband as you perched on the edge of his bed, tidying his hair, blankets, anything to keep your hands busy.

Will watched you fuss over him, desperately trying to keep his thoughts to himself. Ben had told you what you were planning to do and it had angered him to no end. Frankie had been the only one that had made solid calls the entire operation. They were all alive because of him.

"Why Frankie." You uttered under your breath and he couldn't stay silent anymore.

"He didn't even want to go." Will piped up, pulling your attention away from your husband and onto the man across from you "He didn't want to go because of you and Ava but Pope pleaded with him. He's sworn to us all that it was just a recce and we believed him." Will continued as he scoffed at the memory "Skip forward to the shit show that was south America, he was the one that got us home safe. He was the only one that spoke any sense and he never stopped talking about how he needed to get home to you. To Ava. That was all he cared about Bug and I'm sorry but I can't stand by and watch you leave him when he'd done everything he could to do that."

"That's not the point Will." You snapped and he let out an exasperated sigh.

"What is then?"

"The point is that he promised me I wouldn't have to go through this again." You sobbed as you pointed at Frankie's prone form "He promised I wouldn't have to do this and now here we are." You choked "Might not be coke this time but it was still because of a stupid choice and I just don't think I can just forgive this."

"You have every right to be angry. He lied. Hell, we all did! But if you leave him, take Ava away, I don't think he'll come back from that. We'll be burying him this time."

"Don't put that sort of pressure on me Will." You growled, "This is not my fault."

"So what? Married 4 years and then you run when he needs you most?"

Silence settled over you and that's when the two of you noticed. You were ushered out by nurses. Frankie's heart rate had spiked and neither of you had noticed.

A rather irritated nurse walked out a few moments later and you both instantly felt a wave of guilt wash over you as she stopped to speak to you.

"His heart rate spiked because he was stressed." She stated and the two of you nodded "He can't afford to be stressed. His body is under immense strain. You want to bicker, take it outside but, when you're with him, you're calm and collected. Okay?"

You both nodded and so she let you inside. You looked at Frankie and let out a small sob as you contemplated the gravity of what had just happened. You knew that people in a coma could hear you but could he understand you too? Did he know now what you planned to do?"

"We need to stick together for Fish's sake." Will stated after a short while "You're angry, that's fair enough but right now your husband is in a coma fighting for his life. Now isn't the time to make rash life decisions."

He was right. You knew he was.

You'd made a vow.

For better or for worse. In sickness or in health.

This situation fell into both of those categories right now so you knew that you had to push your anger to one side and be there. The rest could wait.

You were at his side every day from that day on. You brought Ava some days. Hope she might be able to coax him out of his vegetated state but alas a week by and he made no signs of waking.

"Saw the doctor that delivered Ava down in the cafe." You said with a chuckle as you sipped at your latte "Pretty hard to look at a man that spent time between your legs as you pushed a baby through your vagina." You snorted, your mind wandering back to that day.

...

5 months earlier...

You'd barely made it into the delivery ward before you were being whisked into delivery. You'd been in the middle of dinner with the boys when your waters had broken. Gushing all over the bar floor and making a mess. You'd asked for a cloth to clean it up and the boys had laughed hard at that.

"Trust you to want to clean up after yourself after your waters break." Ben had teased and you chuckled before a contraction had rendered them all mute.

It had then been a whirlwind of emotions as Frankie timed each contraction whilst the Miller brother's helped you into the car. Your contractions had practically started at five minutes apart and Frank had known, from the copious number of books he'd read, that that meant go time.

When you arrived in the delivery room, you'd been sobbing from the pain. You were too far gone so that meant no drugs.

"I can't do this Frankie." You wailed as the next contraction tore through you and he kissed you softly.

"Yes, you can Bug." He said with a smile "You're the strongest woman I know. You can do this."

"I can't I can..." You trailed off as you shook your head and he just nodded.

"Right I need you to start pushing Mrs Morales." The doctor instructed and so you did.

Frankie held your hand through each one. Muttering words of love and encouragement as you pushed your daughter into the world. Then just when you didn't think you could push anymore, she cried and you both sobbed as Frank cut the cord and she was handed to you.

"You're so beautiful." You sobbed as you looked down at the tiny little person you'd grown inside you for 9 months "Isn't she beautiful Francisco?"

When you looked at your husband, you saw how he was in bits as he stared at her. His smile was the only thing he wore that showed you that these were tears of pure, unadulterated joy.

"She looks kinda gross." He joked and you barked a laugh at him "But yeah. She's fucking perfect."

...

"She's got a second tooth coming through by the way." You said as you shook your head of the memory you'd been lost in "I'm genuinely scared of breastfeeding her now. What if she bites my nipple off?"

Alarms started to ping in the room and suddenly your stomach dropped. You were ushered out and watched through the window whilst the doctors and nurses as they did their assessments.

One came out a few minutes later, his face impassive as he opened his mouth to speak.

"His fever's spiked. It appears that he's not responding to the antibiotics so we've going to put him on a stronger course."

"What does this mean?" You asked and the doctor sighed "It's a little early to tell right now."

"That's what you say when you don't want to be honest." You scoffed, turning your head away as you took a moment to calm yourself.

"In a nutshell, it's not good." He confessed and you nodded "We need to get his temperature down or he could start to seize and his organs could start to fail. It's a critical time for him but we will do all we can."

"What caused this?" You asked, your throat tightening as you glanced at Frankie.

"Likely infection from the surgery." He stated, "Unfortunately it's not uncommon and the fact he's not responding to the antibiotics just makes the situation worse."

"Right." You nodded, trying your hardest to keep yourself together.

"As I said, we are doing all we can."

You nodded and watched as the doctor left. You were fed up with all of this. You were hurting in so many ways but you had to be strong. You wanted to scream and shout and tell Frank how angry you were.

But you also wanted him to wake up so you could kiss him breathless and tell him you loved him.

If you were being honest with yourself. You didn't know how things were going to be when this was all over. Frankie had still broken your trust and despite all that was happening right now, you still couldn't move past that. You didn't really want to think about any of that right now.

You wanted to think that you could move on. Put it all behind you and be the happy family that up until a month ago, you were. The more you dwelled the more you wondered why he'd even risked it in the first place. You weren't short on money. You both lived comfortably so why? Why had he thought that doing this was worth the risk?

So you knew that there was no moving past this. There was no forgiving and forgetting.

A storm was on the horizon.

~

It was another two weeks before Frank woke up. You stood there and watched as they removed his breathing tube before explaining the possible side effects he might suffer from. They'd informed you that he'd likely be released in a few days as long as he didn't suffer and complications and then they left you stood in that hall. Staring at the doorway and willing yourself to walk through it but you knew that when you did, there was no going back. You were numb as you walked into his room and your eyes locked.

This was it.

You'd imagined this moment over and over in your mind for the past three weeks but now that you were here, you had no idea what to say to him. A mixture of emotions washed over you.

Relief that he was alive.

Sadness that now, you had to face the music.

And Anger, the one that had now consumed you whole the moment you'd seen him lying there awake.

"How are you?" He asked as you continued to stand there and stare at him.

You said nothing. You had nothing to say. So you just stood there staring at him and watching him squirm under the intensity of your gaze. You thought about what Will had said to you all those weeks ago. You thought about the hurt you'd had to bury down for weeks now as you sat vigil and did your job as his wife. You held his hand, talked to him, reminisced with him and found that despite it all. All the love you had for him and all that the two of you now shared together, you couldn't move past the lies and deceit.

"Baby please say something." He rasped and you snapped out of your daze "I'm so sorry." He continued after a beat "I fucked up I know and I have some explaining to do but-"

"I want a divorce."

Next

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[sukunarii]

shinsen; plaque

Pairing: Sukuna x Vessel! Reader (kinda platonic)

Theme: Plaque (ft. Sonnet 18)

Synopsis: Yuuji was not Sukuna’s first vessel. There was a girl 500 years prior who was Sukuna’s first vessel.

A/N: I’ve been meaning to write another poem fic for a while and this word seems to fit with this sonnet. Also requests might take a while, I’ve been having writer’s block lately >_>

Part 2

Should I compare you to a summer's day?

(Name) was like summer. While Sukuna was winter. The two of them were the polar opposite but ironically, (Name) was Sukuna's vessel. They were the moon and the sun, the ying and the yang. And somehow the warmth that (Name) carried balanced out the coldness of Sukuna's heart.

There were days that they argued.

"You pathetic brat, you're losing to an opponent so much weaker than you," Sukuna mocks the girl who just got kicked down by a curse. However, his words didn't bother her, she got up again.

"Shut up and watch Sukuna, I'm not gonna fucking lose!", the girl shouts back.

After a lot of struggles, she did eventually manage to win and proved Sukuna wrong.

There were also days that they got along.

"Sukuna, what do you think of my new dress?", she asked the curse for his opinion while standing in front of the mirror. An eye and a mouth appeared on (Name)'s cheek, and it eyed the girl's reflection.

"Can we not wear a dress?", Sukuna said annoyed.

"Why not? It looks great. Not like I'm going to let you switch with me," (Name) says gullibly.

Sukuna sighed. This girl...."Don't call me for something like this next time," he said and disappeared.

(Name) laughed, she seems to find Sukuna's grumpiness amusing. And Sukuna also noticed that ever since then, she stopped wearing dresses as often.

There days that they worked together.

"Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna, please tell me you know where we are," she whispered to him.

Sukuna sighed again. What an annoying brat...getting lost in a forest and doesn't know how to get back to the village.

"Asking me for help, how desperate have you gotten?", Sukuna mocks her.

However, he didn't expect (Name) to cave in, "Yes, please I'm begging you."

Sukuna grins, "Then what will I get in return?"

"Umm....we won't have to sleep outside for tonight if I can get back, that's a win for both of us," (Name) tries to argue with him.

"I refuse," Sukuna says coldly and disappears from her cheek again.

"Wait, no Sukuna! Don't go!", (Name) tries to call him back but falling to deaf ears. And as if to make matters worst, it started raining. (Name) bends down beside a tree and hugs her knees closely to her chest. She was shivering from the cold.

"No matter how you look at this, you're an annoying brat," Sukuna sighs. It's been three hours since then and (Name) has passed out from the cold allowing Sukuna to take control of the body. Despite Sukuna's initial refusal, he did eventually take (Name) back to the village, saving her from dying of hypothermia.

They were polar opposites. 

But (Name) being Sukuna's vessel, they learned to coexist. And even learned to appreciate each other to some extent after all, Sukuna got to see life through (Name)'s eyes. He watched her struggle. He watched her get stronger everyday, never giving up despite fighting powerful curses, despite being ostracized by her village for being Sukuna’s vessel. She still tried her best to get along with him even if he is the root of her troubles. 

And Sukuna has to give it to her, she was a lovely girl. She was like summer, warm with kindness, patient like the long summer days, sweet like the flowers that blooms, cheerful like the clear sunny summer skies. Perhaps even lovelier.

Overtime, (Name) has earned the respect of the King of Curses. He did not view her as an equal, but  she was one of the few people that he was willing to acknowledge.

But summer will eventually come to an end.

(Name) was not able to suppress Sukuna's powers. It was too much for her body to bear and she turned into an urban legend of the girl who was once Sukuna's vessel.

Gojo showed Yuuji a plaque that was displayed in the hallway of Jujutsu Tech. He pats Yuuji's back nonchalantly and says, "(Name) (Lastname), legend says she was Sukuna's vessel 500 years ago. Nothing much else is known other than she wasn't able to contain his powers and died. Do you think that'll happen to you?"

Yuuji shook his head with too much confidence, 'simpleminded', Sukuna thought.

"I think I can take it," Yuuji replies bluntly.

Gojo laughs, "Good then."

From inside Sukuna's innate domain, he observes the plaque. It was simple.

Just (Name)'s name, a date and a small line in bracket that indicates that she used to be Sukuna's vessel.

"Is this really what's left of you, brat?", Sukuna thinks to himself.

Bonus:

Sukuna was uncharastically cheerful as he sat on Yuuji's back inside his innate domain.

"I'll fix your heart if you accept my terms," Sukuna proposes.

"Look at you, talking all big but you wanna live to, huh?", Yuuji retorts back to the curse, not fearing him at all.

Sukuna ignored Yuuji and continued.

"My conditions are, one: you agree to let me take over your body for a minute when I say 'enchain'. Two, you will forget about this agreement," Sukuna pauses. Yuuji thought Sukuna was done, however he adds a third condition, "And three, there is something I want to add on (Name)’s plaque."

As long as people can see and read, I'll keep the memories of you alive eternally with these lines.

[shotorozu]

BABE , i saw a hc ( i think it was urs) where the boys’s s/o was really fashionable, ( as somebody that’s gone viral on pinterest a little too many times ) I WAS WONDERING , what if you did a todobakudeku ( separately please omg) with somebody that’s like the emma chamberlain of fashion and they own everybody’s pinterest boards and stuff AHAHA IDK , the amount of times somebody has said ‘ wait ur that one pinterest girl right?? ‘ ANYWHAHEEIE I LOVE YOU N HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! 💗💗

pinterest famous s/o

character(s) : midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, they/them pronouns (at the request of anon) strong quirk hinted; not specific

headcanon type : fluff, crack-ish (x reader)

note(s) : thank you anon!! so ok, i still used they/them pronouns even though the reader is afab (again at the request of anon) and whdjwkd sorry for the inactivity :,) also im gonna post more later so— sorry for the delay

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku

when middle school midoriya finally got a phone, he downloaded pinterest for the sole purpose of looking at screencaps of heroes

but then, he hasn’t touched it a few months, because he’s been training with all might

then, when he finally had enough free time again— he decided to go on pinterest

but instead of finding any heroes he could look at, he found the prettiest human being he has ever seen in his entire life 💀

that person was a different type of beauty, y’know— they weren’t just fashionable, but their beauty was,,

timeless? that’s how he’d describe it. yeah. that person lived in his head rent free for a while

sadly, he feels like you’re that person he sees once in his life, and never again 😔　which isn’t the case

when he finally meets you, midoriya realizes that you look VERY familiar— someone on pinterest, that he unfortunately, didn’t know the name of

but then wait! he realizes that you’re that person. that one person that blew up on pinterest, and ended up in all of the fashion boards.

okay, you’ve been recognized a few times in the past, just because you were pinterest famous— but you didn’t expect him to recognize you

“wait,, you know me?” you asked him when you saw the realization sink in

and you were honestly,, flattered when he went on a tangent on how you were on all of the pinterest boards, and how your sense of fashion was timeless

but you know what’s the best thing of it all? when izuku developed a crush on you (and not because he thought you were just an attractive face)

it was very easy to find pictures of you online! he says it’s for research but,, he tends to look at them for a long time

probably has 3-4 pages dedicated to your hero costume— since fashion icon = fashionable, yet a very practical hero costume!

does he get jealous whenever people fawn over your looks, or whenever he sees comments in pinterest comment sections just asking for your socials in such desperation?

hmm,, yes? he does occasionally feel like someone like you, should be with someone as equally beautiful as you

he thought he was always plain looking, but you wholeheartedly disagree! in fact, you fell in love with his ability to pay attention to detail.

to the random creeps in the comments section, he just contacts the uploader and asks them to delete any malicious comments and it works 100% of them time.

on the brighter side, he helps a lot with taking your pictures (if you ask him to) and sometimes! he’ll even appear in them

izuku will always be your #1 fan!

bakugou katsuki

at first, you’d be like “katsuki owning pinterest? naaah.” but! i think he would

being an all might fan, he liked looking at all might screen caps— and while katsuki would be on the discreet side, he’d find himself looking at them whenever he has extra minutes to burn

not to mention, the cooking recipes on there aren’t the worst, so he doesn’t just use pinterest to look at screen caps of heroes doing their work

and, how could he forget that you’ve been bugging him to search for rare screen caps? he says that it’s useless— but he finds himself digging for you anyway,

which is whyyy

he finds an entirely different rabbit hole, and it’s way past 10pm, 3 more minutes wouldn’t wound him.

the blond doesn’t know how he even stumbled on.. this side of pinterest. the one that kind of hurts his eyes.

the more well known side of pinterest, that is covered in pictures of fashion boards, and the standard pretty person.

the ‘aesthetic’ side, kaminari calls it— it makes bakugou cringe, and he was just about to refresh his page

when he spots something familiar, it’s you‼️ well it wasn’t just you but, you were dressed in something,, nice.

like sure! you’re attractive. but that’s not why he’s dating you, there’s a lot of reasons as to why

but, he’s baffled. seeing you in a different light, and in such nice clothing, what more, when he sees that you’re actually everywhere. he hasn’t seen this much of you and your attractive ass before

katsuki told himself that he was going to sleep a few minutes ago, but now? he’s left admiring all of your pictures.

how did he not know that his s/o’s pinterest famous? you’re practically in every single board!

he confronts you the next day in an oddly weird manner, “you didn’t tell me you were famous on that stupid pinterest app.”

you’re sheepish, “welll, i didn’t know that you were going to stumble on that side of pinterest!”

he doesn’t say anything, and really! it looks like he doesn’t care about the newest discovery of his s/o

but he shows his feelings in his own way.

like, how katsuki insists that he finds a new outfit that you’d absolutely love— one that’ll fit with your aesthetic

and that he insists that he does your graphic liner, because you’re going to ‘poke your eyes out’

makes an entirely different account to reply to those simps and creeps in the comment section, sort of like

random pinterest user : “the things i’ll do to be crushed by them 💦”

pinterestuser461903 : “go touch some fucking grass.”

also would’ve commented “your art sucks” at the poorly done drawings of you in the comments, but knows you appreciated the art— so he doesn’t

(still thinks the fanart doesn’t do you enough justice)

he’ll be super proud when someone notices you in person like “yeah that’s fucking right, but too bad they’re super attractive and way out of your league.”

in short, it looks like katsuki doesn’t care at all about your pinterest famous life, but he’s your #1 supporter

todoroki shouto

i am certain for this one— he doesn’t have pinterest

well, he didn’t have pinterest, until midoriya convinced him to create an account, but it kinda just ended at that

but the person that actually made him use pinterest was sero, because he kept bugging him to give it a try

todoroki finds the app very practical— he can find screen caps of heroes in action, and he can also find oddly helpful tips in cooking (and in anything)

but sero was like “todoroki, what about the aesthetic value??” and todoroki didn’t really get that part to be honest 💀

todoroki, being clueless didn’t know what to search for— so sero being the wonderful friend he is, helped him search for it

and that’s when it happened. it didn’t take that long, but they eventually found an entire section just full of pictures of you; their classmate and crush

“is that Y/N?” mina notices what they’re looking at, and she observes the picture “oh wow— it is her! no wonder why she looked familiar.”

“it’s impressive! our classmate is pinterest famous!” they continue to look at every single post in each board, and todoroki’s left to observe in silence

he has definitely taken a liking to you, even if he didn’t realize it at first— he liked you because of your hard work when it came to training, personality and patience, not because of your looks

obviously, todoroki thinks that you look good in anything, trashbag style or not. but seeing you in this light was interesting.

so after training, todoroki would spent a good portion of his time scavenging for more pictures— not because he was obsessed or anything

but because,, he really liked your pictures. maybe it was because without you in those pictures, it would feel incomplete

he didn’t know how to approach you after this discovery, which is why he’s glad that you approached him first

“todoroki! what are you looking at?” you took a peak at his screen, and you’re baffled to see yourself, and that very famous picture of you

he’s quiet for a second when he realizes that you’ve caught him staring at your pictures, but he explains calmly, “sero accidentally discovered your pictures,, and i just wanted to take a peak at them, if it was okay,,”

and he’s relieved— well, you’re also relieved. you didn’t know how your crush would react if he ever saw those pictures, but your heart skipped a beat knowing that he enjoyed looking at them

“it’s alright todoroki,” you smile, honestly over the moon as you spoke “i’m really glad that you like them.”

sometimes you’d get shy whenever he’d go on pinterest just to look at your pictures, “todoroki, not that one! that one was really old,,” is what you’d say whenever he’d look at your older photos but he’d still look at them anyway 💀

at first, todoroki helped you in his own subtle way. since he’s quite the fashion icon— he’d recommend you clothes to wear for future pictures

he eventually confessed— and it was because you were talking to him while he was really tired, and he blurted out that he really, really liked you and you almost passed away because of his words

so yeah— it was a case of secretly admiring their beautiful best friend to lovers scenario

he’d go the full mile when it came to taking your pictures. he’d check the weather forecast just in case if it was going to rain for that date, and impromptu picnic photoshoot

that boyfriend that has pictures of you in his photo gallery, and has a backstory for each photo if anyone were to ask

also that boyfriend that knows how to take pictures, will probably even lay down to take them, even if you didn’t kindly ask him to

when you asked him to join the picture, he didn’t really know how to— but he made it work! and the both of you guys went viral

but this isn’t all one sided, no— whenever you guys would cuddle, shouto would simply stare at you with HEARTS in his eyes,

and even before he leans in for a kiss, he’ll stare at you with so much love in his eyes, while he traces his thumb across your cheekbones. man’s in love— you’re gorgeous.

he knows that you know that he’s not with you because of any ulterior motive, you both have mutual trust in each other— so it’s not something you guys will bother on questioning because you’re both hot asf lets be real

he’s not uncomfortable whenever people gawk at you in public— i mean, you two get stares on the regular. and how could they not stare at you? you’re very attractive, and he’s glad that people recognize that

but he’ll get protective if they’ll try to be a threat to your loving relationship with him, he won’t be afraid to be blunt

regarding the comments on each pinterest post— he hates it when people say things out of the line

always tries to hide them from you so you don’t feel bothered by them, but if you knew about them— he’ll be sad :,(

but he’ll end up mass reporting those nasty comments— and they always get taken down, because of the shouto todoroki luck

in short? man’s whipped, and the both of you guys are SO attractive together— what more if people knew about the om chemistry?

really— you being pinterest famous was just a nice plus, he fell in love with you for you

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[rose-lord-of-simps]

When Mammon Finally Snapped.

Request: Could you do something with mammon snapping at his brothers Bc of their words *insert emojis this author can’t- oh wait I can copy and paste hold on-

Request:  Could you do something with mammon snapping at his brothers Bc of their words 👉👈

@mammons-baby

First of all, just let me say, I too, am a slut for Mammon. Second of all, I got so excited at your request so thank you for sending it in!

Enjoy!

Warnings: Cursing! (remember if cursing bothers you but you want to read feel free to just ask me for a clean version!) Mammon’s brothers being super mean to him. And mentions of blood but nothing detailed. Mentions of his brothers punishments and ripping of nails.

It was an accident. 100% pure accident. 

“Mammon what the hell did you do?”

“How come you always assume it was me!?”

“Who else besides you and Beel could manage this level of chaos in the kitchen?”

Mammon really didn’t mean to set the kitchen on fire! Again...

“This is getting expensive Mammon. You need to stop being a nuisance.”

“Hey guys, this smoke is not good for my complexion so can we figure out how to put it out already?”

“Don’t let Mammon do it, he’ll only make it worse, as always.”

“Hey!”

----

“Scummy Mammon. Go away and leave me alone!”

He just wanted to see his brother. Levi hadn’t left his room for nearly 3 days and Mammon was worried.

“No let me show you brotherly affection and play video games with you!”

“I don’t want to play video games with you! Go find something else to do!”

Ouch. Normally he’d play with anybody.

“Sorry.”

————

It was not Mammon’s day.

The witches had called on him a lot and his clothes were all torn.

It’s started raining on his way home but he didn’t have an umbrella.

And he was operating on barely two hours of sleep.

All Mammon wanted was to sleep, but of course even that’d be a challenge. As he walked into the HoL the first thing he noticed was Beel and Belphie in a blanket nest snuggled up together.

“That looks so comfy, can I join?”

Cuddles sounded so good right now.

“No stupid Mammon.”

“Sorry, he’s grouchy because Lucifer woke him up from a nap on accident. But maybe it’d be best if you didn’t join.”

He should have known. This wasn’t the celestial realm. His brothers didn’t want cuddles anymore.

Mammon made his way back to his room, nearly tripping on air on the way, but didn’t fail to pass by Asmodeous undetected.

“You look like shit.”

“Gee thanks.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you but I’m going out and don’t need whatever it is. So just... stay away. Okay?”

He really should be used to this by now.

He shouldn’t be crying silent tears by the time he gets to his room.

By the time he falls asleep he’s so exhausted he doesn’t get dinner.

————

It’d been four days.

Four days of no Mammon around the house.

He was never at dinner, seemingly always sleeping through.

He didn’t show at breakfast, already having left the house.

And none of the brothers had similar classes to their scummy second born.

Lucifer was the first to notice and tried to catch him when he came home but on the fifth day, Mammon just didn’t come home.

When someone finally pointed out that Mammon hadn’t been around recently and possibly could be in trouble, it of course was Beel.

“He doesn’t usually leave for this long though, what if he is in trouble?”

“Then why not just let him perish?”

“I agree with Levi. Let him wither wherever he is.”

“Enough everyone. Mammon’s been keeping a few crows in the aviary right? I’ll send one out and we can follow it, see if it leads us to him.”

“How do you know that’ll work?”

“It’s a dumb crow. They like Shiny things and his hair is a shiny thing.”

“Ya’ll are welcome for that, that shiny hair is because of me.”

————

When they finally found Mammon, it wasn’t pretty.

His normally white hair with almost purple iridescence was now a light brown, covered in dirt and what looked like soot.

His glasses were no where to be seen.

And his demon form was out, wings tied and possibly bleeding.

And the responsible demons were no other than the witches.

What hurt the brothers the most was seeing their normally lively sibling looking as if the life had been sucked out of him.

“Do you think this image will haunt them in their dreams?”

“Can I eat em?”

“What if we rip off their nails first.

“You underestimated us.”

“He May be a scummy demon and a terrible brother.”

“But he is our brother and we will not tolerate you harming him.”

For once, Mammon thought his brothers cared.

————

“What were you thinking Mammon!?”

He was wrong.

“This is disgraceful, you can’t keep getting in these situations. It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re embarrassing.”

“What would be a suitable punishment?”

Punishment?

For what?

Getting hurt?

If they were just gonna do this then why did they save him?

“If you were just going to punish me then why save me?”

“You’re our brother, you may be annoying but we care about you.”

“Since when did any of you care?”

“That’s not fair, we’ve always cared you’re just being dramatic.”

“I’m dramatic? Lucifer makes an entire demon out of pure rage and I’m the dramatic one?”

“Mammon-“

“No! I practically raised all of you! I brought Lucifer meals when he missed dinner, I covered all of your heads on the fall down, I planned Lillith’s service without any help because you all were mourning, I was the one who cuddled all of you when you had nightmares, and how was I thanked?”

“Mammon you’re being ridiculous-“

“I got hung upside down from the ceiling for days on end, I have fucking scars that I don’t remember getting because my brain has repressed the memories, I’ve gotten called scummy and an idiot for giving into my sin when all of you are excused, I’ve nearly died on multiple occasions covering for your asses when you do something wrong so Lucifer doesn’t get you, and when I try to reach out I’m pushed away by my own family.”

“Stop being so serious you know we love-“

“Love me? Love me!? You never cared about me. It took you four days to realize I was gone. And when I was hurt and obviously traumatized I’m told that I’m getting punished for being a victim. For being an embarrassment. If you wanted me gone so badly then why have just let me die!?”

The worst part was they all knew he was right.

They knew they used him as a punching bag.

They knew he’d taken the blame for them on multiple occasions.

They knew he was the only one who got criticized for his sin.

They knew he raised them.

They knew that if it weren’t for Mammon then they wouldn’t know what to do.

Which is why it hurt when Mammon left and didn’t come back.

====

I don’t like how this turned out but I’ve been having a lot of writers block lately and I’m glad I was able to get something out. I may try and come back to this when my writers block isn’t so bad.

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 2 of ?)

read part one here!

a/n: hey loves! i'm finishing up school rn, but i had to get this out and i'm about to start working on a tommy request immediately after i upload this. anyways, i'm so excited to post this series, it's incredible and i can't thank my bestie @stxdyblr-2k enough. she is a fucking genius :)

prompt: you can't get john out of your head. lo and behold, here he is.

warnings: fluff, mentions of smut, angsty af, soft john (ugh my heart)

Despite your best efforts, you'd been unable to stop yourself yearning for John Shelby. Your pokey flat now often lay empty; you were far too busy to mope at home due to your career as a personal assistant to a local solicitor who was allied with the Shelby's, attending rallies and lectures with Ada and the drunken nights you'd spend at various mansions, galleries and club openings with the "razor chasers" you'd become friendly with due to their refusal to leave Ada alone. Yet still, in those odd seconds of calm you seized over a cigarette, the first seconds after a bump of Tokyo, when you carefully applied your makeup, styled your hair or bathed, you'd think of him. The way the pads of his fingertips felt on your skin, how he’d muttered in your ear how pretty you looked.

But this was different to when you were dreaming about John at 15; he was no longer the allusive older brother of Ada who had a string of beautiful girls on rotation. He wasn’t a fantasy anymore. He was true flesh and blood, and for a moment he had wanted you.

It would be delicious if the whole situation hadn't left a bitter taste in your mouth. Of course you came back to Brum to only immediately fuck it up. The first night, and already you were so close to ruining everything? Looking back, now that you were so close with Ada once more, now that you knew who John had grown to be, that night was cringe inducing. Luckily, no one had seemed to catch on. Luckily, you thrived in the Small Heath rumour mill once again. All the gossip about you was mainly about your substance use, the lads you were seen curling up with outside nightclubs, your intelligence, your helpful nature, sometimes your questionable politics but that was all. John's was far darker, stories of blood, death and gasoline. Recently, the tales of his conquests had quietened, but only due to the lurid delight taken by the factory workers in talking about the recent blinding of some poor fucker who'd crossed the wrong person. Obviously, a lot of the detail had to be exaggerated for shock value and to boost the Shelby status, solidifying them as notorious throughout Birmingham city and its rural surroundings. There were murmurs everywhere about the violent John Shelby: ruthless, cocky, vengeful. It seemed impossible that the same man who cracked shit jokes just to see you smile, kissed you with so much desperation, and prioritised getting you off first could cause such harm without an ounce of guilt or shame to slow his swagger.

Whispers of war were far more constant, but then again, people would say anything for a reaction. You didn't bring it up with Ada. You refused to (openly) partake in mindless gossip on principle, yet you were hungry for information about him.

***********

You'd long forgotten whose wedding you were at. Some loyal blinder, a close friend of the Shelby's, the occasion calling for a large white marquee to be built onto one of Tommy's gardens, fully staffed with the best chef and service team money could buy (from a London restaurant at short notice; when Finn told you the extortionate figure Tommy had paid, your jaw had dropped). The cake, dress and decorations were stunning; you weren't sure exactly what the groom had done for the Shelby's but you could only assume the worst for what they'd splashed out on him.

However, thinking like that only spoilt your night: you'd realised at your fifth club takeover, now you repeated it like a mantra constantly. You'd quickly learnt every excess the Shelby's granted to those outside their circle were due to some perceived sacrifice for being associated with them. Well, that's what you chose to believe after John had sent a junior blinder to your office with a bouquet, the Monday morning after he turned you down. So, it was best to smile and take the shit, get paid, and get out as soon as possible. You were to keep your head down until then.

Yet, keeping your head down was difficult tonight. Ada had treated you to a shopping trip to London for the occasion this morning, Arthur forcing the junior blinders to tag along next to you on the train and trailing less than two metres behind you for hours. You missed the days when it was just you and Ada. It was far more simple without the stares whenever the two of you stepped out. Ada had gotten used to it, she'd devised her own methods of being completely alone; complex plans involving leaving a window open, knotting sheets into a rope and twisting her ankles. Not that she minded, she reckoned the suffocation of being a Shelby was much worse than a few bruised ankles.

You were wearing a clingy emerald green dress from some fancy French boutique you couldn't even pronounce, the diamond necklace sitting along your collarbone and the jewels dangling through your ears were on loan from Ada. You felt eyes unpicking you the moment you entered the after-party. Your arm was linked through Ada's as per usual, she looked equally stylish in a peacock blue number that set off her eyes, her delicate features perfected with makeup.

You'd quickly found your gaggle and began drinking and dancing the night away. Whispers about snow arose from your table, people disappearing to the toilets to rail a line on the bathroom counter, then to the dance floor or to the lap of the poor fucker who'd hold back their hair while they vomited in just a few hours. At least the Blinders were polite about it. Isaiah would kill them if they weren’t. You'd let your arm be tugged on various bathroom trips, treated among your group like secret missions although you weren't entirely subtle about it.

What you weren't aware of was across the marquee, you were being watched by the three men in your life who you'd never want to see you in this state: the Shelby's.

"Looks like Finn's taken your spot, John." Arthur yelled in John's ear over the loud music, gesturing to the youngest Shelby sat at the table next to you who was staring up at you in complete adoration as you chatted across him to Michael, seemingly arguing with him. By the looks of it, you were winning.

John pulled a face at Arthur. “Fuck off, old man. That'll never happen. Finn’s too young for her." He immediately regretted the words that had fallen out of his mouth, revealing far too much for his comfort.

"It's not impossible."

"He's just not right for her, yeah?"

"And you are?"

John didn't bother to bless him with a verbal response, instead flipping him off and downing the rest of his whiskey. "It's not like that."

"What's it like then? Because from where I'm sitting, it's pretty fucking clear, John." Arthur slurred, glass of whiskey sloshing onto his sleeve.

"You're too gone to even know you're chatting shit." John sneered, standing up, "I'm off for a smoke and some fresh air. Try not to fuck anything in my absence, both of you."

His brothers cursed him out as he left. John took a second to figure out his route, purposefully having to cross your path, gesturing for you to follow him subtly. He was surprised you came trailing after him, telling Michael that you weren’t done yelling at him and you’d be back. When you were both only metres from the marquee, he knew you were fucked. You were instantly bored, begging him for a cigarette, which he lit for you, shaking his head at your state.

"You're a fucking mess, love." He said, mouth sloping attractively to one side.

"Takes one to know one, John-boy. Where are we off to, then?"

"Somewhere fucking quiet, can barely hear myself think. Plus, you need to sober the fuck up, lass." He said, softly, as he walked across the dew soaked grass. You followed, heels in hand, holding your dress up as not to ruin it. He sighed, taking the shoes from your hands and wrapping his blazer around your shoulders, linking your arm through his for stability. He kept the distance respectful, but there wasn’t any denying the thick tension in the summer air between the two of you. Ahead, there was a small stone bench sat at the foot of one of Thomas' manicured gardens, and John offered his hand to help you sit. You made small talk and caught up on each other's lives, and you noted John only seemed to glow when you asked about his kids. He talked at length, the drink seemingly unhinging his jaw. There he was again, the John you knew and had admired for so many years. You could sit here forever, watching his blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight. Yet, it just wasn’t meant to be. You wished you could stop time just for a bit, give you enough moments to memorize the freckles on his skin.

"You know the night I first came home?" The alcohol and snow had loosened your lips. You were teetering on the edge of your boundaries, but you couldn't care enough to hold back.

"The night where absolutely nothing happened?" He joked, raising an eyebrow at you, cautious that you'd randomly brought it up in your state. "Sweetheart, this can wait."

He was warning you. For a second you managed to bite your tongue, but curiosity tipped you over the edge.

"But something nearly happened, right?"

"Y/N. Don't." He warned, his tone icy, suddenly distancing from you, hiding between an emotional boundary which he didn't wish to explore.

"John, it's just us. Can't we even talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about, though. You were off your face then, and now. That's fine. We know where we stand. It can't happen."

"I wanted to. I do want to."

"You don't. Trust me. You need a nice lad who'll marry you and look after you. Just need to keep your nose clean long enough yeah?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood, blue eyes begging you to move on.

Your head turned to face him, your face contorting in a mixture of confusion and irritation. "You don't get to tell me what I want or need. The last thing I want is to marry any lad, nice or not."

"I didn't mean it like that, right? Look, I just meant you deserve better than Shelby scum. You're going places you know? Don't settle for Small Heath." John responded with a pained sigh. He didn’t want to get into it with you; not here, not like this. He'd thought about it, naturally. You were constantly on his mind, yet only problems ever seemed to appear, never solutions. It was best for him to avoid you. Why the fuck did he drag you out here? Horrible idea.

"Your family isn't scum. Where the fuck did you get that from?" Your face was screwed up in genuine rage. "I-"

"Y/N, fuckin’ leave it."

His face had hardened completely now. He'd snapped at you. His voice hadn't raised, it was just the power he spat his order out with. You held up your hands in mock surrender, pointedly taking a cigarette from his front pocket and light it silently, not saying a word.

"Why are you so bothered, anyways?" He asked, breaking the silence like you knew he would. John always had to ask questions.

"Fuck off with that, John. I'm not in the mood."

"What do you mean?" He looked completely lost.

"We nearly had sex. Just sex, nothing else right?"

John remained silent.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world?" You asked, your voice wavering. It was hard enough to get the words out, let alone imagine the response.

"You're far too wasted to chat about this, love."

"John, I’m not-"

"I'm serious. You're fucking mashed like my brothers aren't you? Like all those other fuckers in there." He sounded genuinely angry. In the glow of the sunset he looked so much younger, so hurt and lonely. Why hadn't you noticed before?

He turned to you, eyes widened and shocked at his own outburst. "You're not the only one gone yeah? Ignore me, I'm fucked, sorry."

You reached out your hand and linked your fingers through his in silence, the warm evening wind ruffling your hair and dress, blocked from your skin by John's suit jacket which was wrapped around your shoulders. Not that anyone would notice or care. As long as Ada wasn't with you, you could disappear for hours without any alarm. There you sat in the tranquil last few moments of the day, your hand linked with John's, both beyond tipsy. You weren’t thinking properly but it felt right. You felt safe. You didn't want to have to return to the chaos of the party, to have to catch up on who your friends were currently trying to screw. None of that seemed to matter anymore.

Was it too much to ask for something to be simple? Maybe you didn't have to fuck him. Maybe just these small moments were enough. You laughed at the thought when it crossed your mind; neither you nor John were known for consistency or stability in relationships, you being admittedly rather inexperienced, only having been with a few men, and he had his fair share of escapades. But he was just so different. You wouldn't admit that he'd gotten your attention in any way than purely sexually (which surprised you to admit) and for fun, but you genuinely enjoyed his presence.

He was right though. It wasn't a good idea at all to hook up. There was far too much baggage for both of you to make it worth it.

Just once?

You glanced over at John. He rolled his eyes at you, but the edges of his lips were slightly upturned, his dimples faintly peeking through his defined cheeks.

Just once couldn't hurt.

***

The sky was streaked with shades of gold, amber and blood. John could feel the friction from your knee barely knocking against his, the pressure putting him on edge. In fairness, he had drunk heavily, and that's what happens when you let your guard down around beautiful women. He couldn't believe you had told him you wanted to have sex with him still. He'd chalked the whole situation down to a drunken mistake that would have progressed into a far more significant drunken mistake. Ada would never forgive him if he went for another of her mates. Especially Y/N. No matter if he said that Y/N could be different, that you wasn't just another conquest. But who'd believe him?

Far better to keep his mouth shut.

Far better to play safe.

As you were called back to the party by the gaggle of girls John vaguely recognised from hanging off the arms of other blinders, he realised (despite his state) that you were right. Having sex with you wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it might be one of the best.

Just once?

He watched your figure disappear back into the marquee, waiting for you to turn back and look for him. You do. He would have done the same if it was him.

Maybe just once wouldn't hurt.

***

to be continued!