#and things are gonna get....... intense!!!!!!!!

[rafeslvbug]

pediatrician!rafe coming to check in on reader after the baby is settled in the nicu for the night

gown blotched in small wet patches, puddles of tears that shed from the moment your daughter was lifted from your arms and rushed out of the room.

they didn’t tell you where she was going.

it had been two hours.

the tears had mostly subsided, and now you just stared at the wall infront of you, unwilling to do the pending work you had waiting for you, or even write the email confirming your maternity leave.

with a gentle creak of the door, a man stepped into the room, causing you to glance his way. he was wearing light blue scrubs, a clipboard in his hand and a name tag you could make out to be ‘dr.cameron’.

“hi, i’m dr.cameron, im the neonatologist taking care of your daughter,” he said softly, pulling up a seat beside your hospital bed.

you blink at him, unsure if it’s the post labour dizziness making you hear things or if he’s just said a really long word you don’t quite understand. “i don’t..i don’t know what that is. do you know where my daughter is?” you sniffle, thinking that somewhere behind that small smile of his and muscles that are making the woman next to you lean her head over the curtain, he must have some brain.

“do i know where- did they not tell you?” his brows furrow, smile dissipating and concern overtaking his features.

you shake your head, tugging the blanket of your bed further up.

muttering some curse under his breath, evidently annoyed, he apologises, “i’m sorry, they should’ve told you. because she’s premature they put her in nicu, it’s an intensive care unit for infants born with health difficulties, usually premature babies.”

relief emanated from you, even if some worry lingered on your chest.

intensive care sounded bad.

“so is she-is she okay?”

“yeah, she’s doing just fine. we’re gonna need to run some tests though, keep her here for a bit, some problems don’t reveal themselves until a few days. but so far, so good,” he says, giving you what you assume must be some programmed reassuring look. he must give it to everyone. how much of it is even the truth?

you nod anyways, wanting to believe she was okay. “do i get to see her?” your voice is quiet, like it’s a right you have to earn, like you’re scared even seeing her will hurt her fragile little body.

“oh yeah, you can see her right now if you want. if you can walk that is, i can take you to where she is?” he offers, a teasing look on his face when he mentions your ability to walk, like he might have to wheelchair you out of here.

frowning at his little quip, you tell him, albeit in a sleepy voice, “i can walk.”

he grins, standing up, and helping you out of the bed even when you insist you’ll be fine. his arm hooks around your waist, your hands around his bicep as he leads you to the nicu.

everything in the hospital is oddly quiet.

weirdly peaceful as you walk to the nicu.

after a few steps and beats of silence, he adds, “a neonatologist, is a paediatrician who specialises in premature infants, that’s me, for your daughter.”

“oh..well, thank you..”

“my pleasure,” he comes to a stop infront a large glass panel, rows of babies in little cots, fast asleep.

pointing to the cot closest to the window, on the right, rafe leans closer to speak in a hushed voice, “that’s her, there. you can hold her tomorrow, i’ll bring her to you, when we’ve done our tests, for now she’s sleeping.”

lip bitten raw, you manage a hum, staring at the little thing, asleep and wearing clothes slightly big for her. “she’s so small,” you whisper.

“they all are, she’ll get bigger, don’t worry.”

along each cot, your eyes spot the labels, cursive handwriting with the babies’ names on them. guilt hits you like a train, or maybe it’s the sadness washing over you as to how fast she was taken. how little time you got to spend with her.

“i haven’t even named her..” you mumble, subconsciously hugging closer to rafe’s arm, not even noticing how he pulls you a bit closer too.

“d’you wanna name her now?” he asks, tilting his head to look down at you. you purse your lips together, briefly glancing at him before nodding.

“i was thinking..aurora?” you admit almost timidly, like there’s some league in names and yours might drop the very bottom.

“aurora? that’s a nice name.”

“yeah well i watch maleficent,” you joke.

“oh yeah that’s a perfect way to name your kid, through movies.” he chuckles, words entirely unconvincing in a way that makes you break into soft laughter as well.

“you don’t think that.”

“no i- okay, i think there’s room for it to go wrong.”

“like if i named her maleficent?”

“i’ve seen it happen, get all kinds of weird names nowadays. well aurora’s cute.” he reassures you, squeezing your arm ever so slightly while you watch her amongst every other baby in the nicu.

the ward is peaceful, for once, you think. no crying babies, or screaming mothers, or midwives rushing around the place. finally you can be free from the pending stresses, and the world awaiting you outside, focusing purely on your daughter.

[jinjoohaa]

Room for one more?

Pairing - JJK Men x reader

CW: dubcon themes, degradation, humiliation, group sex, oral (m & f receiving), cum play, overstimulation, orgasm denial,rough language, spanking,multiple penetrations (implied). Reader is submissive, naive, and overwhelmed. Minors DNI. 18+ content.

prev chapter | M. list

Chapter 18

You barely had time to wipe your chin before the next dare came.

“Strip,” Toji said gruffly, eyes narrowed. “Completely. But keep that red slap-marked ass in view. I’m not done lookin’ at it.”

You obeyed shakily—peeling off the remnants of lingerie, already soaked. Your body trembled as you knelt there, nude, thighs glistening. The air felt cold on your flushed skin, but the four of them made it feel even hotter.

“Spin again,” Gojo said casually, twirling the bottle with one lazy finger.

It pointed to himself.

“Oooh,” he smirked. “Guess it’s my lucky night.”

“Truth or dare?” Nanami asked, though his voice was tight. He didn’t like the game anymore. But he wasn’t stopping it, either.

“Dare,” Gojo grinned. “Obviously.”

Geto leaned in with a glint in his eye. “I dare you to hump her. Naked. But no cumming. You stay hard and frustrated till the next round.”

Gojo's cock twitched in his sweats.

“Bet,” he smirked, stripping in seconds. “Get on your back, baby.”

You obeyed, trembling, lying flat with your knees parted. Gojo hovered above you like a tease in a fever dream, his heavy cock dragging between your folds—but never pushing in.

“Let’s make it fun,” he whispered.

He lined himself up… and started grinding.

Not fucking—just rubbing.

His slick tip nudged your clit, slid between your folds, tapped against your entrance again and again without breaching it. You were squirming in seconds, trying to lift your hips, desperate for more.

“Nope,” he grinned. “You take what I give you.”

He rolled his hips slow and deep, pushing his shaft along your soaked slit, cock teasing every nerve ending.

“Feel that?” he murmured. “That’s how close you are to getting fucked… and I’m still not giving it to you.”

You whimpered.

“Beg me."

You blinked up at him, lips trembling. “P-please…”

“Please what?”

“Please—need you—”

“No.”

He leaned down and kissed your cheek sweetly.

“Next dare.”

The bottle spun. Landed on Nanami again.

This time, Geto smirked. “Dare you to lie on your back. And let her ride your face.”

Nanami’s eyes widened. He tried to stand. “This is getting ridiculous—”

Gojo’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“Oh, come on. Don’t act like you’re innocent. You had your cock down her throat not ten minutes ago.”

Nanami’s jaw tightened. But he didn’t leave.

Instead, he lay down. A few buttons of his shirt were already undone. His hands rested at his sides.

Geto guided you over.

You blushed hard, trembling. “I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Nanami said quietly. “Just sit. Don’t worry.”

You hovered above his face, shaking.

Then slowly—shamefully—you lowered your soaked cunt onto his mouth.

His hands found your thighs immediately.

Then—his tongue.

“Oh god—” you gasped.

He licked with control, with purpose. No teasing. No games. Just slow, intense strokes of his tongue that made your toes curl and your vision go white.

Toji groaned. “She looks good like that.”

Geto leaned over, palming his cock. “Ride him, baby. Grind on his face. Use him.”

You whimpered.

Nanami groaned beneath you—his mouth now locked around your clit. You couldn't help it—your hips started to move on their own. Grinding. Rolling.

You were whining, breathless, humping his face like a needy thing.

“Good girl,” Gojo purred. “Making a mess on our gentleman.”

Nanami sucked your clit harshly. You came. Hard.

Your body seized, thighs clenched around his face. You collapsed off him moments later, gasping, the room spinning.

“She's gonna pass out at this rate,” Toji snorted, but his cock was fully hard, bobbing with every breath.

“Spin again,” Gojo said.

It landed on Toji.

“Truth or dare?” you asked breathlessly.

He grinned. “Dare.”

Geto leaned in. “Sit behind her. Spread her legs. And jerk yourself off while playing with her cunt.”

You gasped. Toji was already moving—settling behind you like a wolf. His broad chest pressed to your back, thick fingers reaching between your thighs.

“Open ‘em,” he growled.

You obeyed.

He spread you open—two fingers rubbing your folds with rough circles, wetting them with your slick. Meanwhile, his other hand stroked his cock, the heavy weight of it brushing your back.

“You hear that?” he murmured into your ear, fingers slicking over your clit.

Wet. Sticky. Lewd.

“That’s the sound of a little slut who loves being passed around.”

You moaned, helpless.

His grip on your clit tightened, pinching.

You choked on a cry. “T-Toji—!”

“Say thank you.”

“Th-thank you—”

His strokes slowed. “You wanna cum?”

You nodded furiously. He let go.

You cried out, trembling.

“Too bad. Next round."

You were still trembling from Toji’s cruel denial when Gojo snapped his fingers.

“Geto. Spin.”

The bottle swirled — stopped on you.

Your stomach flipped.

“Truth,” you whispered shakily.

“Good girl,” Geto cooed. He leaned forward, dark eyes lidded with heat. “Tell us the truth. Whose cock do you think about the most when you’re alone?”

You froze. Mouth dry. Eyes darting between them.

Gojo grinned like the devil. Nanami avoided your gaze. Toji’s jaw ticked.

You swallowed. “…I... Please, another question,”you whined.

Gojo huffed. “Okay. Dare then.”

“I didn’t spin—”

“Too late.” His eyes gleamed. “I dare you to sit on your knees, open your mouth, and let all of us use it. One by one. No breaks. You only stop when you’re full.”

Your breath caught. “G-Gojo—”

"The fuck is wrong with y—” Nanami snapped but gojo counters, "Stop killing the mood Mr. Perfect."

Then he turned to you. “C’mon, sweetheart. Be good. You know how this game works.”

Toji grabbed your hair gently and tugged you forward. “You gonna make us wait?”

You sank to your knees.

Heart hammering. Mouth open.

Toji stepped forward first, cock thick and dripping with pre-cum. He tapped the tip against your lips, then pushed inside — deep, heavy, hot. Your mouth stretched wide.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Mouth made for cock.”

You moaned around him, tears pricking your eyes as he thrust slowly, filling your throat.

“Look at her,” Geto muttered. “Taking him so well.”

Toji withdrew after a while with a pop, wiping your chin with his thumb.

“Next.”

Nanami came forward, slower. More hesitant.

He cupped your cheek. “You’re okay, baby? Can i?” he asked softly, voice low.

You nodded quickly, tongue out.

He fed you his cock with trembling restraint — not too deep, not too fast. But when your tongue flicked over the underside, he hissed.

“God—she doesn’t even know what she’s doing.”

“She’s learning,” Geto said silkily, palming himself.

Gojo crouched next to you. “She’s not gonna last another round.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Geto said. “I dare her next.”

Gojo’s brows lifted. “You already know what you want?”

Geto leaned in, hand in your hair. “I dare you to lay down and let us take turns eating you out. No breaks. One mouth after another until you beg us to stop.”

You gasped, eyes wide. “B-but—”

He kissed your forehead. “But nothing.”

They laid you back on the couch like a sacrificial offering — legs wide, thighs trembling. Toji came first again, licking you open like he was starving. His stubble burned. His tongue was brutal.

You cried out, writhing, too close too fast.

When he pulled back, you were already begging.

But Nanami replaced him without pause.

His tongue was slower — deliberate — dragging long strokes from your clit to your entrance, tasting everything. He moaned low against you.

“Sweet girl,” he murmured, “you’ve been through so much already.”

Then his mouth locked around your clit and your back arched in shock.

“Ah—ah—please—Nanami, I can’t—S' too good!”

Geto followed.

He held your thighs down, licking your folds like he was mapping every nerve. He teased, dipped his tongue just barely inside, flicked your clit gently while watching you sob.

“You gonna break for me?” he whispered.

“Y-Yes—!”

Gojo ended it.

He didn’t hold you down.

He didn’t tease.

He dove in with obscene slurping sounds and no shame, mouthing you like a man obsessed, tongue fucking you while rubbing your nipples just barely with a slick fingertip.

You screamed.

Your climax shattered you — body locked, toes curled, juices running down your thighs and into Gojo’s mouth. He moaned like he was the one cumming.

“Please—nghh—please—” you sobbed.

But they weren’t done.

Geto pulled you onto his lap.

“You’re gonna warm me,” he said simply. “While the others take turns touching you.”

You blinked. “That's—too—”

He slid in.

You were soaked — wrecked — body shaking. He filled you all the way, held you down on his cock, made you stay.

“Just sit. Stay warm,” he murmured. “That’s it.”

Nanami sat beside you.

Gojo leaned on the other side.

Toji knelt between your legs again.

“Let’s play a game,” Gojo whispered. “We each touch her somewhere.”

He rolled your nipple between two fingers. “I get tits.”

Nanami sighed. "I'll just —just kiss her."

Toji spread your legs. “I get cunt.”

You whined, pinned in every way, Geto’s cock throbbing inside you while three men drove you toward another edge.

“Sensitive?” Nanami asked as you moaned into his kiss.

Toji pinched your clit. You jerked.

Gojo sucked a nipple into his mouth.

Geto flexed his hips just once.

You were a mess.

Eyes rolling.

Crying. Shaking. Clenching around Geto, soaking him.

He groaned. “That’s it, baby. Let them all see how ruined you are.”

Gojo blew cool air over your wet nipples, watching them pebble under his touch. “Not yet.”

“Not yet,” Geto echoed, thrusting up once, his cock massaging your inner walls with slow, punishing pressure.

You whimpered, twitching in his lap, unable to do anything but take it.

Nanami lowered his mouth to your breast, sucking the sensitive skin around your nipple until you keened. His tongue lashed softly before he bit—just enough to leave a mark. You bucked in Geto’s lap, overwhelmed.

“She’s going to cum,” Geto murmured.

“Again?” Gojo said again, cruelly. “She's so frikkin easy.”

Toji moved from between your legs and took your wrists, holding them above your head while Gojo rolled your nipples between his fingers, pinching, teasing. Nanami kissed your ribs, your neck, every soft part of you that shook.

“You’re not allowed to cum,” Gojo whispered against your ear. “You hold it.”

“But—but—I need,” you gasped, thighs twitching as Geto started rolling slow, thick thrusts up into you again.

“No cumming until we say,” Nanami warned.

Geto growled. “Clench like that again and I’ll paint your insides.”

You sobbed. Your whole body was one raw nerve.

Toji kissed you, biting your bottom lip. “You love this.”

“I—I—”

“She loves being our toy,” Gojo hissed. “Can’t say no. Can’t stop. She’ll cum all over us and cry about it.”

Geto thrust up again. You came again. Hard.

Without permission.

You screamed, clenching around him, body locking. A second orgasm, worse than the first, racked through your frame.

“Fuck—she came,” Geto moaned, holding you down.

“She broke the rule,” Gojo sing-songed.

Toji tsked. “You know what that means.”

You blinked through tears. “I-I’m sorry—”

“Uh uh. No mercy now.”

Gojo pulled you off Geto’s lap, ignoring your whimper as his cock slipped out, your pussy leaking down.

“I dare you,” Gojo said, “to take all four of us. One after the other. Every hole.”

Your breath stuttered. “I—”

“She’s going to pass out,” Nanami muttered.

“Then we’ll tuck her in after,” Gojo smiled, stripping the rest of his clothes off. “But not before she gives us every last drop.”

Toji stroked himself slowly. “Who gets her mouth first?”

“I do,” Gojo said.

And they took you.

One by one.

Gojo fed you his cock while Nanami played with your tits. Geto slid inside your ruined pussy again, groaning at the way you tightened despite exhaustion.

Toji watched.

Then took his turn.

Every touch was overwhelming. Every kiss was filthy. Every praise turned into a demand, every moan a command. You sobbed through your third orgasm, your fourth, twitching helplessly in overstimulation.

“Good girl.”

“So fucking pretty when she cries.”

“She’s gonna pass out soon.”

“Let her.”

Your eyes fluttered, mouth full, body trembling, holes stuffed and stretched.

And then you went still.

You collapsed, limp, barely conscious.

You drifted off in someone's arms — you didn't even know whose. They were all touching you. Holding you. Kissing you. Cuddling you.

You woke the next morning in the middle of the bed. Naked. Sore.

Four bodies around you.

Protective. Sprawled. Asleep.

You couldn’t move.

You didn’t want to.

And you didn’t regret a thing.

to be continued in the next chapter. . . .

Comment down to get tagged for the upcoming chapters. Also I started a backup account in case something happens to my current one - just to be safe lol, So if y'all are interested, @jinjoohaa-blog do follow !

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[oldermenfucker]

hello rue!! hope youre having a great week! i unfortunately have to go get some blood work done tomorrow, and as someone who hates needles and having blood taken out…. i was wondering if you could write a little blurb of how our sexy hot doctors, jack and robby, might deal with a situation like that with you??? i just need some good vibez in my head before tomorrow 😭

Hey beautiful!!! I hope these two lil blurbs help you! Don’t be scared you’ll be just fine and i’ll write as many blurb as you want🥺🫂 I’m gonna go with general check up for the bloodwork!

Tw: needles and bloodwork<3

Robby

He is a goofy man, always trying to make you laugh even when is in the shittiest mood ever. So when you tell him you have to get some bloodwork done, his mind goes to ten thousand different places. Are you hurt? Why would you need a bloodwork? Are you okay? Is your period late? And he sits you down and interrogates you until he is 120% sure you’re just fine and it’s a simple check up. And who does that better than Robby himself?

He takes you to the ER with him first thing in the morning after he wakes you up with lots of kisses and snuggles cause he knows how much you hate needles. The least he can do is to make sure you are as comfortable as possible before, during, and after. He sits you down on one of the beds and pulls out the necessary equipment before he starts.

He starts cracking jokes; from your first date, to your first kiss, to the first argument until he has to grab your arm so you won’t shake it while laughing wholeheartedly. He does it so effortlessly that you don’t even realize he’s done until he pulls out his gloves and kisses you softly

Abbot

He isn’t like Robby, he won’t do the test himself, but he will make sure he grabs the safest nurse to do that. He is basically your personal doctor, all the illnesses and family background are known to him cause he has to make sure he is keeping you healthy at all times. So when he suggests a general check up, you get a bit worried.

“It’s nothing, I know you hate to see those awful needles but you gotta trust me, ‘kay?” And you do, so he makes sure to take you to the ER a few hours before his shift starts and asks Perlah to come and help him.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he holds your free hand and keeps staring at you to the point you get flustered and have to look away, but even then, he makes sure you can’t even glance at the needle inside your elbow and the unit of blood in Perlah’s hand.

Safe to say he enjoys making you distracted with his intense eyes.

[ohmytyong-recs]

okay...girl grab a cup of coffee and relax because you have an essay to read

for those who haven't read this yet, there are spoilers under the cut

so i started reading this fic probably two weeks ago (?) but i just finished it now. i don't know where to start but i'm gonna begin with how truly gifted you are as a writer. i don't know if it's just me but you manage to create the scenes, the moods, the vibes and the characters i mostly look for when i read any form of literature. and the tone and style of your writing ties everything together, you really embrace all the qualities i love in literature and the ones i try (emphasis on this) to create in the own writings as well.

now to the story. the plot had the perfect mixture of happiness and sadness, the characters you created were both loveable and toxic, the settings and your descriptions really transported me to the story you wanted to tell, as if i was actually there. i am a heavy visual reader (if that's the term i forgot) so everything plays out in my head like a movie. the feeling with this story was heavily amplified. now i don't know if that was an inspiration you drew from, but throughout the whole thing i was getting major "call me by your name" vibes. i don't know if that was your intention, but i kept imagining that little village as crema.

now to the romance part. it truly felt like i was reading a published romance novel. and it truly felt like your characters were actually people, i think i've told you that before but you write such vivid, human characters. the reading process was so bittersweet because you can see their love blooming but you know that they don't get together in the end. now i wouldn't normally comment on the smut scene but this one just worked. its purpose in that particular moment was totally fulfilled, the couple shared one of their most intimate moments together and the way you rendered it did it so much justice.

and now the ending. phew. up until the phone call i was devastated, i mean of course she couldn't wait for him for five years, and the fact that the letters were never delivered created such an intense environment. then the open ending leaves so many things for interpretation, although i choose to think of it as a happy(ish) ending.

BUT THEN i thought waaait a minute. i remember the way you began the story and i went back to reread the preface. and then i became devastated again. because the book was published and it was sent to her and she's crying to the memories of him. so she ended up marrying the other guy so the ending is not happy. (at least that's my interpretation, maybe i'm wrong but don't tell me if i am, i don't wanna find what the author, meaning you, wanted to say with this story but rather i, as the reader, want to find my own meaning through my understanding).

anyway, this isn't goodreads and i let my degree in literature get the best of me. but i needed you to know how your stories make me feel. you put so much thought and effort in your writings, i'm sure of it, and you deserve to know that your words resonate with people. this was a beautiful story.

I remember everything | j.jh

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

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

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

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

wc: 28.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other platforms. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun remembers it well. 

How can such a beautiful place bring him agony? 

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

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

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

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

That was the first time he met you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nowadays, Jaehyun consumes those items whenever he grows scared 

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

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

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

“Months?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beautiful. Utterly beautiful, he thought.

“Come, I’ll show you around.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How far?” “Overseas.”

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

“$3.56 per minute.”

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

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

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

“It’s Jaehyun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?”

Shit. Just like that. 

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

“It’s okay.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun found joy through you and your acts of love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Darn him and his cuteness! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, you would have won, Y/n.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perhaps…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re avoiding me.” “No.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bye, Jaehyun.” “Bye, Ollie.”

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why the hell would he have a plane ticket?!

‘Dear Jaehyun,

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

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

Sincerely, Jude.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Dear Jaehyun,

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

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

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

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

Best regards,  Jude.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Misery likes company.” 

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

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

“Got a letter from my manager…” “So?”

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

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

“I leave this Sunday, Y/n.” “Oh.”

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

Misery does love company.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”  “Yes.”

Jaehyun smiles at her. 

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

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

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

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

“You’ll let me in again?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you…” “It’s just advice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why do you keep looking at the cracks?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s surreal how cruel and love can be.

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

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

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

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

“Take care.” 

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

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

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

“I love you too…”

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

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

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

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

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

“No!”

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

Letters that will never arrive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you, Gremlin, take care!

Sincerely, Y/n.’

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

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

“Hello?”

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

“Hello?!”

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

“Y/n–” “...” 

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

“Jaehyun…” “I remember everything.”

[leighsartworks216]

Ahhhhhhh dragon sylus !!!!! 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤

I love him so much 🖤 🖤 🖤 and I love how you write him 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Hope you have a fantastic day ✨ ✨ ✨ (definitely made mine, better I'm gonna go reread that 🥰🥰🥰)

I just have big feelings 🥺

Having to learn how dragon's show affection first because he's so much more intense about his care even in the subtle ways

Dragon Sylus giving you big game that he just caught like a cat bringing you a mouse; plopping it in front of you so proud and wagging his tail as he waits for your reaction. So confused/disgruntled when you don't react the way he expects. He catches an even bigger animal to you, but that makes things worse. Confusedly offers you a tiny rabbit he caught like??? Maybe no like big things?? You have to explain that you like gifts, and you appreciate the gesture, but uhhh dead animals isn't really... your thing (even as/for food). He doesn't bring you a gift for a few days, just studying you, watching you peter around his hoard to figure out what things you do like. Next time he gifts you something, it's an item, like a book or jewelry or clothes. Makes it his mission to collect the things you like most from then on, even if he doesn't fully understand it, because it makes his mate happy

Dragon Sylus doing that like male lion plop thing they do. Finding you laying down and just plopping on top of you with an oomph, full body weight and all. Feels really bad if he hurts you. Next time, does it really gently, landing mostly right next to you

Leaving little bites on your skin isn't so bad, actually. They're already small and dainty, but he may leave one too many in one spot that irritates your skin or makes you sore. He loves biting your neck and shoulders and will pout if he makes them too sore so he can't bite them anymore

Can't preen your wings so he preens your hair instead. Gently detangles and brushes through it with his fingers. Hates that he can't do it if you have really thick or curly hair, without hurting you anyway. Will try to learn hairstyles if you show him, but with his claws, that may not work out

Licks your cheek when he's happy or deeply affectionate. Doesn't understand why you make a face at it. Probably the hardest change to make once he learns about kissing. Using his lips isn't his default - using his teeth and tongue are. So sometimes you'll be cuddled up with him for bed, his wings wrapped around you, and he'll lick your forehead or cheek or neck. Sometimes he does it repeatedly, too, like he's grooming you. Especially after a workout or sex, he wants to taste your skin

Nuzzling is the best one, by far. Imagine this big, scary dragon man coming toward you just to nuzzle his nose against your cheek with a purr. Sighing in contentment when he can just bow his head and meet your forehead with his, rubbing against you. You're gone for a little too long and when you get back, he's rubbing all over you to mark you with his scent again. Your hands on his face instantly get nuzzled. If you kiss his cheek, he's leaning into you to nuzzle you. Get nuzzled idiot

[lucy-literates]

You got shy Lewis on point 🤭

Okay here is another one :)

Teammates to lovers, since I think this would be a great balance in a team, if there were male and female drivers together :)

Greetings :)

A/N: oooo this is cute, hope you enjoy it. Inbox is open

Equal Parts Fire and Fuel

When Mercedes announced you as Lewis Hamilton’s new teammate, the world didn’t blink—it exploded. Headlines screamed about the team’s "bold move," about the "first full-time female driver in a top seat," but no one seemed to care that you weren’t there to make history.

You were there to win.

And Lewis—God, Lewis—he met you with an outstretched hand and a dimpled smile, like it wasn’t weird at all. Like it was the most normal thing in the world to be told you’d be sharing garage space with the man who defined a generation of Formula 1.

“Ready to shake things up?” he asked, and you couldn’t help the way your stomach turned. Not from nerves. From curiosity.

You were expecting tension. Competition. Distance, maybe. But instead, Lewis offered respect. Quiet, steady respect. You noticed it in the way he listened when you spoke during debriefs, or how he always waited for you to get in the car first, how he never once made you feel like a headline.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t competitive—on the contrary. You pushed each other. Hard. If Lewis topped FP1, you came back swinging in FP2. You studied his race craft with brutal intensity, and he knew it—knew when you started copying his lines through corners, trimming down your braking zones. He’d glance at you in meetings and smirk like he knew your every move.

After Bahrain, he beat you by two-tenths in quali and said, “You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” and you rolled your eyes and told him he should enjoy it while it lasted. It wasn’t nasty, but it wasn’t soft either. You were fire to his flow, and the whole team seemed to love it.

Toto joked once during a post-race interview, “They argue like siblings but drive like soulmates.”

The press took that quote and ran with it.

Still, you got used to being seen with him. There were the airport photos, the playful shoves during media days, the way he always passed you a coffee before qualifying like it was routine. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.

But sometimes, late at night in the simulator room, you’d find yourselves sitting shoulder to shoulder in silence, pouring over telemetry. And sometimes he’d reach across and point something out on your screen, his hand brushing yours just long enough to leave your skin buzzing.

Once, after a grueling debrief, you stayed behind to run more laps, and Lewis came back in hours later, still in his fireproofs, and dropped a protein bar beside you. Didn’t say a word. Just sat, his presence grounding, steady.

“You’re one of the best teammates I’ve ever had,” he said quietly, not looking at you.

You turned, caught off guard. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

It became easy after that. Too easy. Press days, team events, back-to-back races. The more time you spent together, the more the lines began to blur. He’d rest his chin on your shoulder while reading over your notes. You’d fall asleep on his during flights. The teasing didn’t stop, but the softness underneath it grew like a secret blooming between you.

You won your first race in Canada.

It was chaos—changing conditions, bad calls from others, a perfectly timed switch to slicks. You crossed the finish line with tears in your eyes and hands trembling on the wheel. You didn’t even hear the radio. Didn’t register anything until you leapt down from the top step and found yourself wrapped in Lewis’s arms.

He held you like he meant it. Tight. Chest to chest. Helmet to helmet.

“You fucking did it,” he murmured, voice thick. “I told you. I told you you could.”

And something in you shifted. Not because of the win. Because of him.

You thought you understood what this was. Friendly competition. Professional admiration. But it felt different after that. The looks lingered longer. The touches got braver. One night in the motorhome, you were icing your shoulder and he sat beside you, wordlessly taking the pack from your hand and gently pressing it in place. His fingers stayed a second too long.

“You don’t have to keep proving yourself,” he said quietly.

“I’m not proving it to them.”

He looked at you then. Slow. Careful. “Then who?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

And when your head found his shoulder a moment later, he didn’t move. He just let it happen.

Then Suzuka happened.

The race was a mess from the start. Wet conditions, a dodgy launch, and you found yourself fighting him into Turn 1. You both knew better. You both went for it anyway. The contact wasn’t huge, but it was enough.

Your car hit the wall. His was too damaged to continue.

You were okay. Just bruised. But as you sat in the medical unit, fingers flexing against the bandage on your wrist, he walked in—helmet still in hand, jaw clenched.

He didn’t speak. Just knelt down in front of you, hands on your knees.

“Don’t scare me like that again.”

You blinked. “It was a racing incident—”

“I don’t care,” he said, voice rough. “I saw you hit the barrier and—” He swallowed. “I didn’t know how much it would matter until it did.”

Something cracked open in your chest.

“Then don’t let me go,” you whispered.

And he didn’t.

Brazil was the final thread snapping.

The season was done. Neither of you were fighting for the title anymore. The pressure had lifted just enough. After a double podium, the team threw a party, and you showed up in a silver dress that turned every head—including his.

You found him on the balcony, away from the crowd. He looked out over the city like it could answer all the questions spinning in his head.

“I’ve been trying to be professional,” he said without turning. “But I can’t pretend I don’t feel this.”

You stepped beside him. Close, but not touching. “Then don’t.”

He looked at you then, eyes warm, vulnerable in a way you’d never seen. “You sure?”

Instead of answering, you kissed him.

It wasn’t fireworks. It was something deeper—something long-earned. Like coming home after a season-long storm.

Nothing changed after that, not really. You were still ruthless competitors. Still argued about corner entry speeds and brake balance. Still fought for every tenth. But now, there was something underneath it all. A knowing. A softness that lived between stolen kisses and quiet good mornings whispered in the garage.

You didn’t flaunt it. But you didn’t hide.

After winning again in Qatar, Lewis wrapped you up in a hug so tight your feet lifted from the ground. “I’ve never been so happy to come second,” he laughed into your hair.

The final race of the year came and went. You took first. He took second. Mercedes claimed the Constructors’.

And that night, back in the quiet warmth of the motorhome, with his arms around your waist and his lips at your temple, he whispered—

“We make a damn good team.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

“The best.”

And in that moment, you weren’t just making history anymore.

You were building a future.

Together.

[isabelckl]

hands in your sweater

carl grimes x enemies!daughter

you never knew that being sent to Alexandria would lead to crossing paths again with the one person you should’ve stayed away from. meeting the son of your dad’s greatest enemy drags you through love and loss all over again, making you feel things you thought you'd already buried.

"Who the fuck are you?" You demanded, your voice cold, pointing your gun directly at him.

He turned, and for a split second, the recognition hit. It was him. Your grip on the gun tightened, and you stepped closer.

"You're gonna get killed here," you warned, the words coming out sharp.

He jerked his head, meeting your gaze with the same intensity. "Not gonna happen," he said, his own gun now pointed at you, his stance steady, like this was just another day for him.

You eyed him, noting the defiance in his expression. "Bold move," you said, not backing down. "You really think you can stand up to me?"

He didn’t flinch, his eyes never leaving yours. "I’m not just anyone," he said, his voice low, but filled with an unshakable confidence. "And I sure as hell don’t plan on dying today."

You tilted your head, the corner of your mouth twitching up in amusement. "Well, lucky for you, I’m not in the mood for making people disappear today." You took another step forward, closing the distance between you two. "But don’t get comfortable. You don’t get to walk around like you own the place."

He shifted slightly, still keeping his gun aimed at you, though his expression never wavered. "Funny," he said, with a hint of sarcasm. "I thought your dad did all the owning here."

"Yeah, well, my dad’s got big plans," you shot back, keeping your gun steady. "He wants to break you people first. But I’m not sure how long he’ll be patient."

The guy's eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward, closing the gap between you two. The movement was slow but deliberate, forcing you to tilt your head up to keep eye contact. "Then maybe I’ll just be the one to break him first."

You couldn’t help but let out a dark chuckle. "You think you’re the first one who’s tried?" you said, leaning in closer, your voice low and threatening. "Get in line."

For a long moment, you both just stood there, the air thick with tension, neither of you making a move. But then, to your surprise, he slowly lowered his gun, his smirk never faltering. "Don’t mistake me for someone who’s afraid to make things difficult."

"Don’t mistake me for someone who’ll let you," you replied quickly, finally lowering your own weapon, though your stance remained just as guarded. "Now get out of here before I decide I am in the mood for a little fun."

He let out a soft chuckle and stepped back, still keeping his eyes on you as if trying to read you. "I’ll be seeing you again. This isn't the end."

Without another word, he turned and walked off, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway. You stood there for a moment, still feeling the buzz of adrenaline running through you.

You barely shut the door behind you before the weight of what just happened settled on your shoulders. Your heart was still pounding, not from fear—but from him. The way he looked at you like he wasn’t afraid to die. Like he had something to prove.

Carl Grimes.

You knew the name. Everyone did. The sheriff’s kid. The one with the eye and the attitude. You hadn’t expected him to be so… steady. So sure of himself, even with a gun pointed at him.

You had no idea what he was doing that deep in Savior territory. But you didn’t ask, either. And that was bothering you.

The room still smelled like cigar smoke and liquor—Negan’s signature scent. He was lounging on the couch where you’d left him just minutes ago, laughing at something one of the lieutenants said before walking out.

“Back already?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as you walked back in.

You nodded, keeping your voice flat. “Saw someone near the south hallway. Not one of ours.”

Negan straightened slightly. “What’d they want?”

“Didn’t stick around to ask. They were alone. Probably just looking for a way in or scavenging.” You swallowed the name sitting at the edge of your tongue. “I scared 'em off.”

He stood up, Lucille slung over his shoulder like always. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly. Too quickly.

He stared at you for a beat longer than you liked. “No point reporting it to the others if he’s already gone,” you added. “I’ll double-check the area later.”

Negan narrowed his eyes, but eventually gave a nod. “You get that killer instinct from me,” he said, smirking. “Keep making daddy proud.”

You forced a small grin in return, then turned away before your expression could slip.

You didn’t know why you didn’t tell him. Maybe because Carl didn’t seem like the enemy in that moment. Or maybe because something in your gut told you this wasn’t the last time you’d see him.

And for reasons you couldn’t explain, you didn’t want it to be.

“You want me to what?” you snapped, voice sharp enough to slice through the room.

Negan barely blinked, sitting at the edge of the table, Lucille resting lazily in one hand like he wasn’t asking his own daughter to walk into enemy territory. “Relax, sweetheart. It’s just a little visit. Build some trust. Show ‘em we play nice when they play nice.”

You shook your head, stepping forward. “They hate us. I point a toe into Alexandria and they’ll put a bullet through my skull before I can even smile.”

“Now, now,” he said, grinning. “That’s no way to think. You’re not just anyone. You’re my blood. Which means you’ve got leverage, charm, and the balls to handle it.”

“This is suicide,” you hissed. “You don’t send family into the lion’s den for show.”

Negan stood, voice lowering. “I send who I trust. And right now, I need someone who can smile, keep their mouth shut, and listen. Someone who won’t get emotional or stupid.” He stepped closer. “Unless you’re telling me you’re not that person.”

You clenched your fists, fury bubbling in your chest. But beneath it all, you knew there was no point in arguing further. Once Negan made up his mind, it was over.

He grinned, sensing your silence. “Atta girl. You’ll be back in a day or two. Go charm the neighbors.”

The silence inside the Alexandria was suffocating.

You could feel the weight of every glare, every muttered curse under their breath. Some of them looked afraid, others just furious. No one welcomed you. No one even bothered to hide how much they didn’t want you there.

And still—you held your head high.

You wore neutral clothes, nothing that screamed Savior. But your face… your name… that was enough. You were Negan’s daughter. That alone made you the enemy.

Rick stepped forward, tense but composed. He kept his hand close to his belt, his eyes sharp, measuring.

“You came here… why?” he asked.

You forced yourself not to flinch. “To talk,” you said, your voice steady. “Negan wants to establish some ‘trust.’ Says we don’t always have to settle things with blood.”

Rick didn’t move, didn’t blink.

“I’m not here to make trouble,” you added. “I’m just a messenger. You want to shoot the message? Go ahead.”

That was when you felt it—someone watching you harder than the rest. You turned slightly… and locked eyes with him.

Carl.

He hadn’t moved from his spot on the porch, but his expression had shifted. There was a flicker of something—shock, confusion, maybe even betrayal. Like he didn’t expect you to show up here, not after the hallway, not after the way you aimed a gun at him.

You held his gaze.

He stepped forward finally, breaking away from the porch, and the crowd seemed to part around him without realizing it. His hand rested near his holster, but he didn’t draw.

“You’re kidding,” he muttered once he was close enough. “They sent you?”

You tilted your head. “Didn’t expect a warm welcome, but damn. Not even a hello?”

Carl’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing. “You think this is a joke?”

“No,” you said quietly. “I think this is stupid. But I didn’t have a choice.”

For a moment, you both just stood there—caught in the same standoff as before, only this time there were witnesses. This time the war was thicker in the air, and neither of you knew whose side you were really on.

“You’ll be watched,” Rick said finally from behind you. “Every minute. You step out of line, you don’t get to walk away.”

You nodded without looking away from Carl. “Noted.”

And just like that, the gate closed behind you.

You were in enemy territory.

And the only person who might understand why you hesitated that day—the one who could blow your cover with a single word—was the same boy staring at you like you were already a traitor.

This was going to be hell.

The gate clanged shut behind you with a heavy finality.

You tried not to let it show, but it felt like stepping into a cage. A cage lined with hatred, suspicion, and loaded guns. Every step you took on Alexandria soil felt like it echoed louder than it should have.

Rick gave you a clipped nod and motioned toward one of the houses. “You’ll stay in there. Don’t go anywhere without permission.”

You didn’t respond. Just walked, chin up, shoulders tight, until the door closed behind you.

The room was plain. Empty, aside from a table and a chair pushed awkwardly to the side like someone had been in a hurry to make it presentable. A small bed against the wall. No windows big enough to climb out of. No weapons in sight. It was a prison with floral curtains.

You dropped your bag onto the bed and sat on the edge, rubbing your palms together, trying to ignore how shaky they’d gotten. You weren’t scared. Just... alert.

Always alert.

A knock came too soon. You looked up just as the door creaked open and Carl stepped inside without waiting for permission.

“You spying for him?” he asked bluntly.

You let out a dry laugh. “Wow. Straight to the point.”

Carl didn’t smile. He didn’t even blink.

You leaned back slightly, arms crossing over your chest. “No. I’m not spying. At least not in the way you think.”

“You showing up here a week after your dad bashed Glenn and Abraham’s skulls in? That’s not a coincidence,” he said, voice low, sharp, like he was trying to cut past whatever front you were putting up.

“I didn’t know he was going to do that,” you snapped.

“You knew what kind of person he was.”

You flinched, but you didn’t break. “Yeah. I do. But I’m not him.”

Carl’s jaw tightened. “Then why the hell are you here?”

You opened your mouth to answer—but nothing came out.

Because what could you say?

“I don’t know,” you admitted, quietly. “I argued with him. Told him I’d get killed here. Told him it was a bad idea.”

“And yet…” Carl gestured to the room around you. “Here you are.”

You looked at him, something flickering in your chest—anger, frustration, something you didn’t want to name.

“I didn’t ask to be part of this war,” you said. “But I don’t get a choice.”

For a second, Carl didn’t say anything. His expression shifted, something unreadable swimming behind his single eye. He didn’t trust you. Maybe he never would. But part of him, maybe, understood.

Still, his words were steel when he finally spoke again, “You slip up even once, and I won’t hesitate.”

You nodded slowly. “Neither will I.”

And just like that, he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and stared at the wall for a long time.

This wasn’t just survival anymore.

This was personal.

You couldn't sleep that night.

Not really.

Every creak of the house, every bark of a dog in the distance, every step outside your window—it all felt like a threat. Or worse, a test. You didn’t know which.

Morning bled into the room in soft streaks of grey light. You hadn’t changed out of your clothes, too on edge to care about comfort. When a knock came again—sharper this time—you were already on your feet.

Carl stood in the doorway, backlit by the sun, a scowl carved into his face like it was permanent.

“Dad says I’m supposed to keep an eye on you today.”

You blinked. “What, like a babysitter?”

Carl shrugged with a bitter smile. “Something like that.”

You grabbed your jacket and followed him outside after getting ready and doing some of your morning routines. The air was cool, the streets mostly quiet, but you could feel eyes everywhere. Carl didn’t speak. He just walked, and you kept pace beside him.

“So this is what trust-building looks like?” you muttered.

“No,” he said. “This is what containment looks like.”

You rolled your eyes. “You know, for someone who lowers his gun and lets people live, you sure act like a dick.”

Carl stopped walking. You almost ran into him.

“Don’t mistake what happened in that hallway for trust,” he said, turning to face you. “I didn’t shoot you because something told me not to. That doesn’t mean I won’t.”

You met his gaze, unflinching. “Good. Keep it that way. Maybe we’ll survive this mess.”

The silence stretched again, thick and tense, but this time… something about it felt different. Not as cold. Not as sharp.

Carl looked away first.

“We’re going to the gardens,” he muttered, starting forward again. “Try not to get stabbed.”

You smirked slightly despite yourself. “No promises.”

You spent the next hour walking through Alexandria with Carl at your side, people either avoiding you or throwing daggers with their eyes. No one spoke to you. But you caught snippets of their whispers.

"That’s her?"

"Negan’s daughter."

"She doesn’t belong here."

You pretended it didn’t get to you. You’d grown up learning how to wear armor without metal. But still—this was different. This wasn’t war. This was survival under a microscope.

At some point, Carl handed you a basket and pointed at a row of tomatoes.

“You’re joking,” you said.

He didn’t respond. Just started picking.

You huffed but crouched beside him. “I didn’t come here to harvest your damn tomatoes.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, tossing a tomato into his basket, “you’re here now. Might as well be useful.”

You picked one, then another.

After a while, it got… quiet. Peaceful, even.

You hated that part most of all.

By the time the baskets were full, your knees ached and your patience was worn thin. The silence between you and Carl had settled into something strange—not comfortable, but not hostile either.

You stood, brushing dirt off your palms. “So this is how you people survive? Tomatoes and silent treatment?”

Carl didn’t look at you. “Better than barbed wire and baseball bats.”

You flinched. That one hit deeper than you expected. You bit the inside of your cheek, keeping your mouth shut this time.

He turned, finally meeting your eyes. “Why’d you really come here?”

You stared at him, caught off guard by the question—by the way he asked it. Not like an accusation, not like he was waiting to pounce. Just… curious. Maybe tired. Maybe trying to make sense of things the way you were.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you said honestly. “He said I’d help build trust. Said I’d be useful. But I think he just wanted me out of the way.”

Carl tilted his head, studying you.

“And you listened?”

“What, you think I could say no?” You laughed, bitter. “He’s still my dad.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be him.”

You looked away. “Tell that to everyone staring at me like I killed their friends.”

Carl didn’t say anything to that. Maybe there was nothing to say. You both stood there in that quiet space between resentment and reluctant understanding.

After a long pause, he finally spoke. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’re actually allowed to walk without getting a gun to the face.”

You raised a brow. “How generous.”

He cracked a dry smirk. “Don’t get used to it.”

You followed him through the rest of the compound—past the armory, the infirmary, the schoolhouse still scarred with broken windows. Kids were playing in the distance, laughter echoing faintly through the walls. You watched them with something close to envy.

“Ever think about what it would’ve been like if this never happened?” you asked suddenly. “No walkers. No war. Just... regular life.”

Carl’s jaw tightened. “All the time.”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Me too.”

Another beat of silence. This time, not so tense. Not so heavy.

Just… real.

And for the first time since you arrived, the weight in your chest felt just a little bit lighter.

The sun was starting to dip by the time the “tour” ended. You’d barely spoken in the last half hour, and honestly, you preferred it that way. Words were risky. Words made things real.

Carl stopped near one of the houses—his, you guessed. The porch was half-fixed, like most of Alexandria. Still trying to hold onto what it once was.

He turned to you, arms crossed loosely. “You’ll be staying in the house next to this one. It used to be Carol’s.”

You didn’t ask who that was. Just nodded. “And what, you’re my neighbor now?”

“Guess so.”

A smirk tugged at your lips. “Gonna keep watching me from the window?”

“Only if you look suspicious.”

You laughed once, dry but genuine. “You don’t trust me.”

“Certainly.”

You paused, tilting your head. “Smart.”

He held your stare for a second longer before nodding toward the door. “Go. Lock it. Don’t leave at night unless you want to get shot by a lookout.”

“Charming place.”

Carl didn’t respond. He just walked off, disappearing behind the fence toward his house, leaving you in the dimming light with a strange, restless feeling curling in your gut.

The room they gave you was clean. Bare. You dropped your jacket on the bed and sat down slowly, the mattress creaking beneath your weight.

You still weren’t sure why Negan really sent you here. And you weren’t sure what was worse—being used as bait, or being forgotten.

Your eyes drifted to the window. You could just barely see the side of Carl’s house.

He hadn’t said goodnight and you didn’t know why you noticed that.

Part 2

[lestappenforever]

what I find incredibly funny and not at all surprising about this whole thing is that the list of people that THE max emilian verstappen has apologized to will always remain as:

Charles Leclerc

Oscar Piastri

Kimi Antonelli

this list is never gonna get appended no matter the intensity of the war crimes committed by Max. He really said family above all 😭

Fucking this.

[ghostlycamil4]

Hihiii!

The most comforting thing to me is when my mom blow-dries my hair. The feeling of her hairbrush and the warmth is my favorite thing ever. 🤍 I was wondering how Katsuki would react if we asked him to blow dry our hair? You can make this as long or as short as you want, tysm!!!

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑁𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠

i went for a lil medium length moment bc katsuki being gentle like that? yeah. had me in a chokehold fr. tysm for sending this in!!

Bakugo was lying against the headboard, the sheets rumpled around his waist, iPad in hand. He pretended to be focused on what he was reading, but his eyes drifted up more often than he wanted to admit.

The bathroom door opened with a soft click, and there you were.

Wearing a light robe that barely covered your legs and a towel wrapped around your head, you walked over to the closet without saying a word. But you didn’t need to speak. Just your presence was enough to make him slowly lower the iPad, forgetting whatever it was he had in front of him.

He clicked his tongue, barely audible. Damn it. He’d never get used to that.

You came back wearing your pajamas—an oversized T-shirt that hit mid-thigh and comfy shorts that barely peeked out. Your bare feet made soft sounds on the wood floor as you sat in front of the vanity. Without rush, you plugged in the hair dryer, grabbed the thick-bristle round brush, and set everything on the surface before sitting up straight in front of the mirror.

That’s when you noticed.

Through the reflection, you saw him. Bakugo couldn’t take his eyes off you. His gaze followed your every move with a quiet intensity, like you were some sacred ritual he’d become addicted to without meaning to. You bit your lip to stop a smile… but failed.

You turned slightly, just enough to look at him over your shoulder.

"Are you just gonna keep staring or are you gonna come help me?"

His brow shot up immediately.

"What?" he grunted, shifting his body just a little, like he wasn’t a second away from throwing the covers off. "You do it yourself every night, don’t you?"

"I do," you said, with a slow, teasing smile. "But I’d like it more if you did it tonight."

Bakugo scoffed, setting the iPad down beside the bed, but he moved faster than his fake annoyance could justify.

"You're spoiled, y'know that?"

"And whose fault is that?"

He didn’t answer, but his mouth curved into a half-smile as he walked over to you, dragging his feet across the floor like moving was a chore...

He grabbed the dryer with one hand and the brush with the other, and without needing a single instruction, he gently took the towel off your head. Your shoulders gave a slight shiver from the cool air, but he was quick: his fingers ran through your damp hair first, carefully separating the strands with an almost reverent precision.

"I don’t even need to be gentle," he muttered. "You wash your hair with boiling water. You're gonna go bald."

"Liar," you said with a laugh. "My hair’s healthy. Tell me it doesn’t look healthy."

"Tch. Yeah, yeah… looks good. Always looks good."

The dryer began to hum softly, and the warmth wrapped around your nape, your temples, as he directed the heat with firm but gentle motions, brushing at the same time. He didn’t talk much. Occasionally, he asked you to tilt your head or stay still, but other than that, the silence spoke for him. The light tug of the brush, the way he threaded his fingers through the ends so he wouldn’t pull, how attentive he was without making a big deal of it… that was Bakugo.

Through the mirror, you watched him. His face was focused, brow slightly furrowed, tongue barely peeking out between his lips as he worked out a particularly stubborn strand.

"You're watching me," he said without looking up.

"So what?"

"You're fuckin' melting."

"And what if I am?" you said, voice soft. "I like it when you take care of me like this."

He leaned in, lowering his face to press a warm kiss to the top of your head, right where his fingers had been just moments ago.

"Hand me the tie," he murmured against your hair.

"And what if I don’t want a ponytail tonight?" you said playfully, turning your face a little to look at him.

Bakugo raised a brow.

"Oh yeah? What d’you want then?"

"Maybe… braids," you whispered, not looking away from him.

And even if his voice didn’t break the silence, the tenderness in his touch said it all.

His hands moved again, gently. Starting to trace the shape of an invisible braid.

Content @ghostlycamil4 2025. Do not copy or modify.

[honeydippedfiction]

I need to know more about Angel having Joe's initals tattooed and about Dare or Die

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Synopsis: During a wild LSU party and a brutal game of Dare or Die, Angel drunkenly gets Joe Burrow’s initials tattooed on her hip—long before they ever made things official. A week later, when Joe finally sees it for himself… it sets off a night neither of them will ever forget.

Warnings: Alcohol use / underage drinking, Tattoo under the influence, Sexual tension / suggestive content (Includes heavy flirtation, intimate dialogue, and sexual undertones between characters), Peer pressure, & Mild body modification themes.

WC: 2.9k

A/N: they're insane for each other your honor. Also don't ever get a tattoo or anything while under the influence if that wasn't clear.

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• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Based from this ask!

The LSU party was already in full swing when Angel and Monica arrived, the night buzzing with that heady, reckless energy that came from being young, free, and just drunk enough to forget about tomorrow. Neon lights blinked erratically against the ceiling, casting flickering colors over the crowded living room. Solo cups littered nearly every surface, the air thick with the sharp tang of alcohol and too-loud laughter. Music pumped from the oversized speakers in the corner—something bass-heavy and dirty that made the floor vibrate and your hips sway whether you wanted them to or not.

Angel hadn’t planned on going out. Not without Joe.

Normally, a Friday night without him meant a quiet night in, curled up in one of his hoodies, watching whatever he had on while sneaking kisses between bites of takeout. But tonight, Joe was holed up in his apartment going over film—grinding through footage with his usual intensity, headphones in and a brow furrowed in that serious, focused way she secretly loved. He’d told her not to worry about him, to go out and have fun. And she figured… why not? Maybe a night with Monica and some noise would help chase away the ache she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying since he’d left her apartment that morning.

What she didn’t expect was to be swept into a drinking game before she could even shed her jacket.

“Dare or Die!” someone bellowed, a cheer rippling through the room. A table was already set up in the center—like beer pong, only sloppier, wilder. Underneath each cup sat a folded dare, and if you chickened out, you had to dump the drink into the big punishment cup at the center of the table: a cloudy, sinister-looking mix of cheap vodka, tequila, beer, and God knows what else.

Angel hesitated, trying to blend into the shadows with her drink, but Monica spotted her instantly.

“Oh, no ma’am,” she said with a devilish grin, grabbing Angel’s wrist. “You are not just gonna stand there lookin’ cute all night. Come on, LSU First Lady—get in the game.”

“Don’t call me that,” Angel groaned, though a smile tugged at her lips.

Monica just raised a brow. “I mean, you’re basically taken. Whole campus knows Joe’s in his ‘taken and smitten’ era.”

“We’re not official,” Angel reminded her, weakly.

“No,” Monica said with a knowing smirk. “But you will be.”

Angel rolled her eyes but let herself be pulled forward. She could feel it, the way her heart fluttered at the idea of being Joe’s. Fully. Publicly. The way his name alone made her feel anchored, even when he wasn’t in the room. Maybe they hadn’t defined it yet, but everyone knew.

She knew.

The game kicked off in a whirlwind of laughter, dares, and dare-fueled regrets. Someone gave a lap dance on a coffee table. Someone else had to call their ex and act like they were getting head. Angel ended up taking a tequila shot with whipped cream off Monica’s stomach and boobs, and by her second round, her head was warm and fuzzy and her confidence high.

The game had already claimed its first few victims.

A tall guy from the track team had pulled a dare that made him strip to his boxers and run through to Mike’s cage and have someone record him pretending to crawl around like a tiger growling.

One girl was halfway through giving her ex’s new girlfriend a lap dance on the couch—and judging by the girl’s reaction, she wasn’t mad about it.

Someone else had just pulled a dare that involved calling their mom and pretending to be high. The entire room had quieted for that one, and the mother’s response—“Tell that weed I said hello, and make sure you eat something”—had everyone in stitches.

Angel was still sipping from her cup, grinning at the chaos, when it happened.

Monica smacked a ball into a red cup near the center of the table. Cheers went up. She plucked the folded paper from beneath and unfolded it, her eyebrows shooting sky-high.

“Girl,” she said, showing Angel the dare. “Kiss the person in the room you most want to sleep with. No backsies.”

Angel choked. “Don’t look at me.”

“Oh, relax,” Monica said with a dramatic eye roll. Then she turned and kissed a girl from the softball team square on the mouth—to whoops and hollers all around. “What? She’s hot.”

The next guy got dared to post a thirst trap with “DM for feet pics” on Instagram. He did it without blinking. Another girl was dared to shotgun a White Claw while on someone’s shoulders—and when she chose Angel’s lap, Angel nearly spilled her drink laughing.

Then it was Angel’s turn.

Monica hit her with a look.

Angel stepped forward, cheeks pink from the heat and the drinks. She tossed the ball underhand. It sank into the cup on the right.

She flipped the note underneath, brow quirking as she unfolded the small square of paper. Her eyes skimmed the words—and stopped cold.

“Get your man’s initials tattooed. Right now. Monica’s driving.”

Angel let out a startled laugh, blinking as though the words might rearrange themselves. “Absolutely not.”

There were howls of protest and laughter from the crowd.

“Pussy!” someone called out. “Dump your drink!”

Angel hovered, her cup midair. Her eyes were still on the dare. The words felt like a joke. A wild, ridiculous one. But they also stuck in her brain like glue.

Joe. Her Joe.

He wasn’t just a man. He was her man. Even if they hadn’t labeled it yet, she felt it in every late-night text, every soft kiss on her shoulder when she fell asleep in his bed. He made her feel seen. Protected. Adored.

Joe wouldn’t even know.

He wasn’t here.

But it wasn’t just any initials. It wasn’t some random guy. It was Joe. Her Joe. The man who kissed her forehead like it was sacred. Who called her “baby” in that soft drawl that melted every bone in her body. The man who texted her after practice just to make sure she ate.

She felt Monica watching her.

Would he even care?

Would he love it?

She didn’t answer. Just looked over at Monica.

Monica narrowed her eyes, then tilted her head. “You’re really thinking about this?”

Angel bit her lip.

“I mean,” Monica shrugged, “I do know a guy who stays open late. Just saying.”

Angel hesitated, then exhaled sharply. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Monica’s grin widened. “Girl, nothing. You’re just down astronomically. Come on—what’s life without a little chaos?”

Angel exhaled, set her drink down, and laughed. “I’m insane.”

Monica grinned like she’d won the lottery. “And I’m driving.”

¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

Ten minutes later, they were in Monica’s car, windows cracked, Angel’s leg bouncing so fast it shook the cup holder. She was still buzzed but nerves were starting to crowd her chest.

Monica glanced over. “You’re really doing this.”

“You sound more excited than I am.”

“That’s because I am,” Monica beamed. “Girl, it’s romantic. Dumb, sure. But romantic.”

The tattoo shop was barely still open, the “Closed” sign already flipped on the door—but the guy at the desk, a tatted-up dude with sleepy eyes, recognized Monica instantly.

“You bringing me trouble tonight?” he asked.

“Something like that,” Monica grinned.

Angel was in the chair fifteen minutes later, hip bared, laughing with her hands over her face as the artist prepped his tools.

“What are we doing?” he asked, gloves snapping on.

“Initials,” Angel said. “J.L.B.”

The artist raised a brow. “He better be worth it.”

Angel smiled to herself, heart warm. “He is.”

She squeezed Monica’s hand while the needle buzzed to life. A soft wince pulled at her mouth when it touched skin, but she didn’t flinch. The pain was sharp but brief, and over almost too soon. J.L.B. in fine, slanted script—small and simple, right above the curve of her hipbone, flanked by three delicate butterflies, their wings light and soft, like flight.

Twenty minutes later, it was done.

Angel stood in front of the mirror, jeans low on her hips, her fingers grazing the fresh ink.

“I’m insane,” she whispered.

Monica grinned behind her. “Nope. You’re in love.”

Angel didn’t say anything. But the smile tugging at her lips said everything. Her eyes looking at the butterflies and cursive script.

One for then. One for now. One for whatever the hell came next.

Joe didn’t find out about the tattoo that night. Or the next one.

¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

Friday had come and gone in the way most of his in-season nights did—low-key, focused, and quiet. He was camped out in his apartment, hoodie on, feet up, watching game film with a half-eaten container of takeout and his phone flipped screen-down on the couch beside him. Distractions weren’t allowed when he was locked in, especially this close to kickoff. But sometime after midnight, when his brain started to fog and his eyes began to blur from the endless rotations of defensive sets, he finally caved and checked his phone.

Twenty-two messages in the group chat.

He groaned, swiping it open with one hand, still half focused on the replay on his laptop—until he saw what had them all talking.

The first was a video.

Angel.

Blurry, grainy, lit with that terrible red party glow—but unmistakably her. She was on top of the kitchen island at someone’s house, mic in hand, trying to belt her way through a Beyoncé song while Monica stood behind her, playing backup with a cooking spoon like it was a prop.

Joe cracked a smile, shaking his head. He tapped the video again, watching it loop.

She looked beautiful—tipsy and unbothered, curls bouncing, cheeks flushed. Her body moved with that easy rhythm he knew so well, even when off-key and barely balancing in heels.

“Tell your girl to calm down,” someone had texted under the video.

Joe just smirked, fingers hovering over the keyboard. She’s fine. But he didn’t send anything. Just kept scrolling.

Then came the second video.

And this one stopped him cold.

It opened mid-laugh, the room buzzing. Monica was laid out across the kitchen counter, shirt pulled up, her bra still on but pushed a little higher. There was whipped cream running down her stomach in a zigzag, settling between the curve of her ribs and the top of her jeans. Someone off-camera shouted, “Three… two… one!”

Angel leaned in.

Head tilted. Eyes focused.

She licked a line of whipped cream, fast and laughing, then gripped a salt shaker, tapped it onto the inside of Monica’s hip, and knocked back a full shot of tequila. The crowd erupted.

Joe’s mouth parted slightly.

The video ended there.

Another text followed: Your girl is WILD.

He stared at the screen, thumb frozen.

The logical part of him—the one trained for chaos and pressure—reminded him it was a party. A dare, probably. College antics. Harmless. He’d seen worse on the sidelines. It wasn’t even sexual. Just girls being drunk and stupid.

But the other part—the part that had been imagining her curled into his side tonight instead of licking whipped cream off someone else—was not as cool about it.

He hit play again.

Watched it slower this time. Noticed the way her hand curled around Monica’s hip for balance. The way she laughed after the shot, tongue darting out to catch a drop of tequila from her lip.

Jesus.

He sank deeper into the couch, jaw tight.

The text buzzes didn’t stop. More photos. More chaos. Someone sent a picture of Angel and Ja'Marr locked arm-in-arm, sunglasses on at night, flashing peace signs like they were on spring break.

Joe finally set the phone down, screen-up this time. Just stared at it.

He wasn’t her boyfriend. Not officially. They hadn’t put a title on anything yet. She didn’t owe him anything.

And yet—

That possessive curl low in his gut wasn’t trying to hear logic.

Still, he didn’t say a word. Not that night. Not the next one either.

When she texted the next morning—Miss you—he replied with Miss you too, sweetheart. Like always. Like nothing was different. Like his brain hadn’t replayed that whipped cream moment seventeen times and imagined exactly what it would’ve felt like if she’d done it to him.

And the tattoo?

He had no idea.

Not yet.

That surprise was still waiting—inked under soft skin, hidden in plain sight, waiting to wreck him in ways even that tequila video hadn’t.

Until a week later.

¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

It started as one of those quiet nights they both craved—no game film, no classes, no loud parties or practice schedules to juggle. Just the two of them in Joe’s apartment, wrapped in the kind of easy silence that only came from real comfort. The movie playing on the screen had long lost their attention, reduced to background noise beneath their slow conversation and half-stifled laughter.

Angel was curled into Joe’s side on the couch, one leg thrown over his, her head nestled against his chest. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through her curls, his gaze more on her than the screen.

“Monica’s with her sneaky link,” Angel murmured, voice warm with amusement. “So no surprise FaceTime chaos tonight.”

“Thank God,” Joe chuckled, brushing a kiss against her temple. “Every time I hear her voice echoing through your phone, I brace myself like it’s a blitz.”

Angel snorted, pulling the throw blanket higher over her bare legs. “That’s fair.”

The night stretched long and lazy after that, full of easy touches and half-spoken thoughts, until Angel sat up with a stretch, her shirt riding up slightly as she stood. “I’m stealing one of your hoodies,” she announced, already halfway to the drawer.

Joe leaned his head back against the couch and watched her move, a small smile playing at his lips as she pulled open the drawer and tugged one out—his navy LSU hoodie, the one she always stole.

Then she pulled her shirt off and tossed it onto the bed, standing in just her shorts and a black bra. That’s when he saw it.

The curve of her waist. The soft dip of her hip.

And ink.

Not just the butterflies—though those caught his attention first, three tiny ones dancing just above the waistband of her shorts, like they were mid-flight across her skin.

No. It was what the butterflies framed that made him sit up straight.

Three letters.

J. L. B.

Joe blinked, brows furrowing as he stared. His throat went dry.

“Wait,” he said, voice quieter than before but sharper, rougher. “Come here.”

Angel froze mid-pull of the hoodie. “Why? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just leaned forward and held out his hand. “C’mere, baby.”

Something in his voice made her move. Carefully, curiously.

He pulled her in by the waist, guiding her between his legs as he sat at the edge of the couch. His hands were warm, thumbs grazing over her hips as his eyes locked on the tattoo. His expression shifted from confused to completely wrecked in seconds.

“Joe—” Angel started, heart thumping.

But he was already pulling at the hem of her shorts, just a little. Just enough to see all of it.

The ink was small. Clean. Fresh. Still healing, if he looked close enough.

J.L.B.

His initials. Marked right above the curve of her hip.

He froze.

Angel’s stomach dropped.

“Okay—before you say anything,” she said quickly, her voice rushing to fill the silence, “I was drunk, okay? It was this dumb game and Monica dared me and I swear I wasn’t trying to be crazy—”

“Angel.”

“I mean, we weren’t even official yet! I just—ugh, I don’t know what I was thinking, and I totally get if you think I’m nuts—”

“Angel.”

“I can get it removed, or covered, or—”

“Baby.”

The sound of his voice stopped her cold.

Low. Rough. Like it scraped the back of his throat. His grip on her hips tightened just slightly as he looked up at her, eyes dark, pupils blown wide.

“You let somebody tattoo my initials on you?” he asked, barely breathing.

She swallowed. “...Yeah?”

His jaw flexed. His fingers dragged along her waist, slow, reverent. “You really did that?”

“I didn’t think you’d be into it,” she whispered. “I thought you’d freak.”

Joe gave a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Angel, you don’t even know what you just did to me.”

She blinked. “Wait—you’re not mad?”

He looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Mad?” he echoed. “You got my initials on your skin. Wrapped in butterflies. You really branded yourself for me and you thought I’d be mad?”

Angel felt the warmth rush to her cheeks, suddenly shy under his intense gaze.

“I think it’s sexy as fuck,” he said, mouth at her hip now, voice like velvet. “I think it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

She laughed—nervous, breathless. “You’re serious?”

Joe’s lips brushed her tattoo, slow and deliberate. “Dead serious.”

Her breath caught as his fingers traced the top of her waistband again, dipping slightly lower.

“You really let the whole world know you’re mine,” he murmured, voice molten now. “You marked yourself, baby.”

Angel shivered as his tongue flicked out, teasing the sensitive skin just below the ink. “I didn’t mean to—it just kind of happened.”

“Nah,” Joe growled, standing and hauling her effortlessly into his arms. “You meant it. You wanted me to see it.”

She squeaked as he carried her toward the bedroom. “Maybe a little.”

“Now I gotta show you what that kind of loyalty gets you.”

Her giggle melted into a gasp as he dropped her onto the bed and hovered over her, eyes still locked on the butterflies, like the world had narrowed down to that one little spot on her body.

“You think that dare had consequences?” he murmured, mouth trailing kisses down her belly. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

JB9 Taglist: @lilfreakjez, @dasia21, @superanastasia1981, @gg-trini, @wickedfun9, @irishmanwhore, @danielle143, @destinyg237

[cadescig]

🍒❥ helping out a stressed dallas ❥🍒 ( dallas winston x curtis sister! reader )

a/n : i based this off of that shower scene from the second season of riverdale, with veronica and archie. lowkey very smutty so fair warning:)

warnings : shower sex, p in v penetration, slight dirty talk, cream pie

you and dallas have been dating for a couple years, you are the only curtis sister. maybe a couple months after yall got together they moved into an apartment together, obviously still visited the curtis family house to hang out with the gang among other things.

they were in the apartment, dallas had a rough day this particular day. so he was in the shower to wash away some of the stress on his shoulders. you were worried about dallas. so you walked up to the bathroom door knocking softly.

"you okay dal?" you asked as you slightly leaned against the door. "mhm, I'm fine" dallas said with his usual rough tone, but obviously not fine.

you sat there for a moment thinking. after a few moments you softly opened the door not to make a sound. when you made it inside.. it was very steamy and warm in the bathroom as she could see dallas reflection through the white curtain.

dallas was standing there under the hot water as you could tell. you slowly started to take your clothes off. first went your shirt, pulling down your skirt along with your panties, and slipped off your bra.

you made your way up to the shower and slowly opened the curtain looking at him slightly up and down as he did the same. dallas looked at you slightly shocked, but with his usual smirk appeared. "would you like some company?" you asked as they made eye contact. dallas nodded “yeah.." *he said with his usual nonchalant tone but slightly rough.*

you stepped in the shower with the water hitting your hair, it getting wet. you didn’t even get a chance to say anything nor do anything, before you knew it dallas had placed his hands on your bare waist pulling you into a rough and passionate kiss. you hummed as your lips connected with your arms wrapping around his neck.

he pulled you close. he pressed you against the wall where the shower head was, you both were now wet as you continued a wet make out session. he moved his hands from your waist to your thighs, lifting you up as your back was pressed against the shower wall. his mouth moved towards your neck as he started sucking and kissing your neck.

you moaned softly as your arms slightly tightened against him as you threw your head back. after a few moments of him kissing your neck he lifted up as he made eye contact with you. “i’m gonna put it in.” he told you, he didn’t ask. you nodded as you let out a cracking moan as he put his cock into you. as soon as you felt it you buried your head against his neck.

“oh god dal..” you whimpered against his neck as he was pumping his cock in and out of you. he grinned as he started to move quicker and harder. you moaned so loud against his neck, the neighbors could probably hear you over all the water running.

“you like that? such a filthy girl..” he chuckled as he let out some grunts as he kept pounding into you. you kept moaning shamelessly as your nails gripped his back. he grunted at your nails digging into his back. “oh dal! i’m so close!” i you squeaked with a moan. he chuckled. “yeah, then cum..” he said with a deep laugh as he pounded so much more faster.

you let out the loudest moan, you’ve ever let out. your nails dug into his back you threw your head back as you kept moaning. dallas he chuckled with some moans falling from his lips, he moved his lips to your neck once again leaving open mouth kisses across your neck as some moans escaped his lips.

“i’m cumming!” you moaned out as your head fell against the wall as you had a very intense orgasm, your legs went numb as dallas kept thrusting. “doll.. i’m so close… where do you want it?” he asked you with groans falling from his mouth.

you moaned as he was trusting into you fast, even after you orgasmed. “in me..” you spoke very breathless. he grinned. “you sure doll?” he asked, making sure as he kept thrusting. you nodded eagerly. he kept thrusting faster till he came inside of you. you both let out a loud moan, even if yours was more high pitched.

after you both came, he lifted you legs down as you were panting and trying to catch your breath. “now…” he started. “how about i wash you up, yeah?” he requested as he looked down at you. you nodded. “only if i get you wash you.” you stated as you locked eyes with him, with a smirk.

he rolled his eyes playfully. “bet.” he replied with laugh, you couldn’t help but laugh too…

[byhuenii]

Just a random thought I had in my head at 12 am.

Bucky x reader

You told him you were taking him out for “a cozy autumn surprise.”

Bucky, always down to follow you literally anywhere (probably into war if you asked), just shrugged and said,

“Do I need a weapon?”

You: “Just your wallet and your heart.”

So now you’re holding hands, crunching through leaves at a little fall festival outside the city.

There’s hayrides, cider stands, cozy market booths selling handmade candles named things like Crisp Leaves & Daddy Issues, and best of all—no one recognizes him.

You made him wear the “matching sweater couples look.”

Your sweater: soft beige with embroidered pumpkins

His: burnt orange cable knit that stretches just slightly across his chest

He grumbled but let you tuck the front of it into his jeans, so you know he secretly loves it.

Bonus: You’re both in beanies. He keeps tugging yours down playfully over your eyes.

He wins you a plushie by intimidating the poor claw machine with a very intense glare and a gentle metal tap.

You: “Did you just threaten the machine?”

Bucky: “I encouraged it. That’s different.”

He hands you a tiny pumpkin plushie with a proud little smirk.

—

- You force-feed him a pumpkin spice donut.

- He pretends to hate it.

- He absolutely loves it.

- You catch him stealing your second donut three minutes later.

- He blames Peter over text. Peter is in Queens. Peter is confused.

End of the day. Golden hour. You spot a tiny vintage-style photo booth next to the kettle corn stand.

You grab his hand and practically drag him to it.

He resists only a little.

“Isn’t this like… a teenage thing?”

You: “Exactly. We’re reliving the youth you never got to have. Now get in, grandpa.”

He laughs—and it’s that rare, open laugh where his nose scrunches and everything.

You drop in a couple bucks. The booth lights flash. It’s on.

Frame 1: You make a funny face. He tries to keep a straight face but ends up snorting.

Frame 2: You kiss his cheek. He looks shocked. Like, full frozen screen moment.

Frame 3: He turns to you and blurts out, “You’re too cute.”

Frame 4: You pull him in and kiss him—soft, sweet, nothing dramatic—

But he MELTS.

Like. Literally malfunctions.

You see it happen live. The ears go pink. The shoulders slump like he’s lost all muscle tension. His hand finds your knee like a grounding point.

You pull back and he’s just… staring at you.

“Bucky?” you whisper, grinning.

“…You’re gonna marry me someday,” he mumbles, barely audible.

You: awestruck mayhaps in love

—

You two step out of the booth and he’s blinking like he just saw Marvel Jesus.

You grab the printed photo strip and wave it in his face.

He tries to act cool but he keeps it in his wallet for the rest of his life.

Sometimes he just looks at it and smiles like a dork.

Tony finds it one day and says, “Barnes. This is disgustingly adorable. You’re fired.”

You’re cuddled up on his bed his arm around you, photo strip tucked into his back pocket.

He kisses the top of your head and murmurs,

“That was the best day I’ve ever had. Let’s do it again next year. And the year after. And… every year.”

[torusadore]

footballplayer!gojo confessing to his best friend :3

wc: 1.7k

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

It’s Friday night, and you swear you feel like you should be anywhere else, but no, your best friend Satoru just had to drag you out to his game, it was “the final game of the season” or something. You don’t know, you honestly weren’t listening. It’s not that you don’t love Satoru, you do, really. It’s just.. Sports were never your thing. But you were still here to support him (and ogle him while he runs around all sweaty…). 

“Hi, Y/n!” Satoru bounded up to you, a huge grin on his face, “are you excited for the game?”

“Of course, ‘Toru. I hope you win!!” you beam back at him, not noticing the slight flush on his cheeks when he sees you smile so sweetly, just for him.

“I always win, you know. I’m the star of this team.”

“Yeah, yeah.. Your head is getting too big.”

“What?!?! That’s ridicul- what?” Satoru turns around, annoyed at the interruption,  “Oh.. Bye, Y/n!! I’ll see you after the game!!” He looks like he wants to say something, or do something, before he leaves but he gives you an awkward smile and runs off.

Maybe you do like football after all. Watching Satoru getting all riled up.. It was really doing something to you.. What? What are you thinking, Y/n?! That’s your best friend!! You shove your thoughts back down, shaking your head and focusing on the game, on him. God, he looks so.. Delicious.. Sweat dripping down his forehead, panting like that.. Oops, he’s looking at you. You wonder if he could feel your stare.. 

Satoru thinks he might just go insane. He’s so distracted, how can he focus when you’re right there? Watching him? He’s felt your intense gaze all night and honestly? He’s worried he’s disappointing you. The self-proclaimed “star of the team” is worried that his best friend (crush) is gonna be disappointed. He turns around for a split second, making eye contact with you and he feels his cheeks heat up as you cheer and wave at him. Fuck, she’s so cute.

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

It’s the end of the game, and Satoru can’t help himself, it’s like there’s an otherworldly force pulling him towards you, “So? What did you think? Are you gonna finally fall for the sexy football player?” he gives you a cheeky smirk, flexing his muscles teasingly,

“What?” 

“I’m joking, sweets.” Can he tell how hard you’re blushing right now? “But really, w-what did you think?”

“Umm.. you did really well…” Why were you both acting so shy? It’s just you and Satoru. You smack his arm playfully, laughing, “Why do you care what I think, huh?” anything to get rid of the awkwardness.. 

“I don’t! Shut up.. I just.. I was curious, okay?” his cheeks were burning red, a small scowl on his face. You giggle, way too amused by his sudden shyness,

“Don’t worry, ‘Toru, I thought you were perfect! I don’t know much about football.. But you guys won, right? So you must’ve done great!” your smile is contagious, Satoru grins again, picking you up and spinning you around,

“Hell yeah we won! And it’s all thanks to the great Satoru Gojo!” he gently puts you back down, starting to pose in the stupidest positions, eliciting more laughter to spill from your lips. 

“You’re so dumb..”

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

About an hour later, you and Satoru are in his car, huddled up in the backseat, because, of course, he wants to watch a movie in his car with you before the night ends. Who needs a cinema when you have Satoru, right? You’re practically on his lap, and it all feels so natural. And it is. It’s always like this with Satoru, his presence is so familiar and comforting. You both click together like puzzle pieces, and everything feels right. You ignore the fluttering in your chest, telling yourself it’s just the smell of his cologne or his freshly shampooed hair. He wraps his arms around your waist, yawning quietly before murmuring, “are you okay? You seem distracted, we can go home if you like." He's so considerate. It takes every fiber of your being not to kiss him. You turn around, straddling him and smiling,

“Hi, ‘Toru.” he chuckles,

“Hey, sweets,”

“You really were cool out there today..” you mumble, heat creeping up your neck as you watch that smile blossom on his face. Not the usual cocky, smug smirk, but a genuine smile.

“You think so? Honestly..” he begins, leaning back a little and closing his eyes, “I was really nervous.”

“How come? I thought you loved football, and that you were ‘the greatest player ever.’” He smirks faintly at your over top of the imitation of him, shaking his head.

“Yeah. I am. But I was nervous because you were there..” his voice grows softer as he gazes at you, “I mean, it was your first time watching me.. And I don’t know.. I guess I really wanted to impress you, Y/n.” you’re shocked, literally speechless. What was he trying to say? You give him a look, silently urging him to continue. He laughs softly, tilting his head, “you still don’t get it? I really like you, Y/n, in fact, I think I may love you. You’re so sweet, kind, smart, and beautiful.. everything. I wake up thinking about you, you don’t understand how nervous I felt this morning. I was praying with everything in me that I wouldn’t mess up and you’d think I was some kind of loser,” he laughs again, before looking out the window, his cheeks burning red in the dim light, “don’t you see that you drive me crazy? I’m always thinking about you, wondering how you’re doing. I want to share everything with you.” 

You kiss him before you can even register what’s happening, your lips pressing onto his, your hands cupping his cheeks. He doesn’t waste a second, kissing you back just as gently, a soft exhale escaping his lips as the kiss gets deeper. You both get more passionate, you’re wrapping your arms around his neck as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Eventually you pull away, a dopey grin on your face, “I like you too, Satoru, so much.” He kisses you again, pulling you close once more. Your lips mold together so perfectly, as if you were made for this, made for each other. As the kiss gets deeper, he starts tugging at your shirt, breaking the kiss for a second to pull it over your head, a string of saliva connecting you both. 

“You’re beautiful..” he whispers, “are you sure this is okay?” 

“Of course I am.. I-I’ve wanted this for a long time too..” you clumsily fumble with his shirt, pulling it off him, your hands immediately feeling his chest. You always knew Satoru was in shape, but he was so handsome. His body was.. Unreal. There was no other way to describe it. 

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he quips, cocky as ever. 

“So do you,” It’s not like you hadn’t noticed the way he was practically drooling over your tits, and you grin, “I know you want to.” He immediately starts feeling and squeezing them through your bra, fuck, you wish you wore something more sexy tonight. 

“C-can I take it off, baby, please..?” Something about the desperation in Satoru’s voice is so attractive, you feel yourself getting wetter by the second. You nod, because who were you not to indulge in Satoru’s every request? He makes quick work of your bra, latching onto one of your nipples like a man starved, feeling his dick harden at the whimpers that fall from your lips.

“S-satoru..” you whine, grinding on his thigh, needing to feel him, “Don’t tease, please..” that’s all it takes for him, he moves you around, laying you on your back as he frees his cock. Your eyes widen, because wow. Satoru is big. He looks down at you nervously, mumbling, “umm.. T-this is my first time..” and again, your eyes widen. You didn’t expect Satoru to be a virgin. 

“Me too..”

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

Satoru pushes into you gently, afraid to hurt you, “Are you okay..? D-does it hurt?” he exhales in relief as you shake your head, continuing deeper as he bottoms out. He tenses at your gasp, trying his hardest to not move until you tell him to. As soon as you nod, he starts thrusting, setting a fast pace, panting heavily. You’re moaning into his ear, your nails digging into his back and he swears he’s in heaven. He kisses your tits, neck, jaw and finally your lips, murmuring sweet nothing against them, “Fuck, I love you, baby. You feel so good.. Fuck..” 

“‘Toru…” you whine, eyes rolling back, “feels so good.. Need you..” 

Satoru’s thrusts get more frantic as he feels himself getting close, he squeezes your tits, pinching your nipple and loving the way your face contorts in pleasure. “Baby, I’m gonna come.. Shit… she’s gripping me so tight.” he groans, 

“Oh my god, Satoru!” your orgasm hits you hard, you grab onto his shoulders, eyes rolling back as your pussy clenches around his cock. He laughs breathlessly, 

“God, baby, you’re so sexy, you know that..?” he’s panting harder and then he pulls out, stroking himself until he comes all over you, painting your stomach and tits in his seed. 

He smiles down at you, cupping your cheeks and praising you lovingly, “you did so well, Y/n. You’re amazing.” he grabs his jacket from behind him, gently cleaning you up, pressing little kisses all over your body. You sit up, a little dazed before hugging him tight, 

“I love you too, ‘Toru.” He kisses you properly, pouring all his emotions into you before pulling back and finally tidying you up. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” he chuckles, kissing your cheek. It was like he was addicted to you already. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that!” you giggle, climbing back onto his lap. 

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

You two stay like that for a while before he drives you home, kissing you one last time with the most lovesick smile, “Will you be my girlfriend, Y/n?”

Spoiler: you said yes.

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

a/n: so this was my first time writing smut and im pretty sure this sucks ass but yeah.. i hope you guys enjoy :p

[chaeul]

Spoilers for the TBNW boxset - be warned/welcome ♥

Hooh boy, strap in guys! Watch me fall apart as I gently take apart and violently scream about the extended tbnw ep10 nc scene (be prepared for lots of parentheses because I have a lot to say and a very hard time putting my thoughts in a sensible order ✌🏼)

“Sex scenes are unnecessary and don’t add anything to the plot, they’re just porn and don’t have any artistic value”- PLEASE, have you seen the way Boss and Noeul do nc scenes??? I have been rewatching and losing my shit for hours, screaming at the partner in crime because these two make me feel so unwell.

Okay, first of all - This is everything to me.

Phu looking down as Cir tilts his head back even more (a beautiful look on Boss, if I may add). 

I mean, FUCK, the boy has had to guard himself behind an icy cold wall his whole life; can you imagine how freeing it must be to feel so safe he dares to lay himself totally bare? Letting himself be vulnerable, baring his neck and making himself small, kneeling by the feet of his savior (because let’s be real, that’s who Phu is to him), looking up at his everything with pure devotion like he’s worshipping him (because he is 😭).

It’s just a short shared gaze but it’s so meaningful *whines and grabs my emotional support patch of grass*

Listen, I love sex, I really do, and there’s no shame in it. But this is what really gives me a boner: the emotional desire, the intensity. The feelings and intentions are so important. And Boss and Noeul are absolute Kings at it (I can practically hear the partner in crime echoing “Emperors, kings, gods, legends!”)

Every time I rewatch this scene I have to pause here to catch my breath because I get so overwhelmed that my heart feels like it’s gonna leap out of my chest. I’m really giving it my best here, but I feel like no matter what I say, I can’t properly convey with words how this shared gaze makes me feel.

Phew, let’s take a lil breather together, shall we? In- - - and Out - - -

Which brings me to my next point: Moaning.

And not just Phu’s alluring siren call of a moan (we can all hear him loud and clear, thanks and blessings to Mame for finally allowing Noeul to let it all out after holding him back during lita filming), no I’m mainly talking about Cir!

Phu pulls a lot of the attention due to the volume and disinhibition in his voice but if you listen closely, Cir is right there with him with a velvety warm hum, a few groans, sometimes even just an audible breath. He’s way softer but it is audible how much he’s enjoying this; from their simultaneous penetration moans all the way to the grand finale and their shuddering breaths (okay, mostly Phu’s, thank you once again Noeul) as they ride out the high with clasped hands.

Another thing that didn’t go unnoticed was the multiple instances where Phu moans and Cir joins in, just slightly delayed. 

As if he’s groaning in reply.

As if Phu’s sighs drive him to exclaim as well, unable to stop himself.

Because hearing how good he’s making Phu feel is Cir’s ultimate pleasure (Cir’s auralism confirmed once again, if anyone’s still not convinced, heh). 

Gosh, this puppydog of a man lives and loves to serve Phu, in the streets and in the sheets!

And then there’s the hand on Phu’s neck

Yes, choking kink ✅ We all love it! (Although it looks to me like he’s merely cradling Phu's neck- but the image is beautiful, we are truly blessed.) 

Yes, Phu’s adam’s apple seems to be a very sensitive spot and Cir knows and loves it.

But what if it wasn’t (just) that? And here’s where I bring it right back to moans and by extension (some might say a long stretch) Cir’s auralism.

(Well, given that Cir currently has dick so far down his own throat that he could nuzzle Phu’s lower abs with his nose) one might argue Cir settles for Phu’s neck, his fingers not quite reaching far enough, unable to slide past Phu’s lips (the endgame once again being loud and clear moans; Phu sucking on them like a man parched is but the icing on the cake), but!-

His throat is where Phu produces those addictive moans that Cir just can’t get enough of. Maybe that’s why he constantly kisses, bites, licks, and in this case places his palm against it- so that in addition to hearing Phu’s moans he can feel them vibrating against his skin. 

Auralism plus, I think I might call it? idk

There’s so much more but my brain is mush by now so, uhm, where was I? 

Ah, yes! The beauty of Boss and Noeul’s nc scenes!

Listennnn these two are so hard working, emotionally intelligent and in sync with their characters and each other, especially in nc scenes - where are the awards for these two???

Nobody can tell me ever again that scenes like these can’t hold merit or artistic value.

Fuck that!

Yes, some works may have the audacity to call dry humping with no emotional depth a love scene. But then there’s Boss and Noeul, telling their story by acting out the most delicate details with almost atom level precision and some people call it porn (derogatory) ?🤯

Like so many things in life, sex has the potential to be beautiful and joyful and fucking hell, I see the beauty in this and I enjoy the fuck outta this. Art is supposed to make you feel things, right?

This makes me feel things! Many! (And yes, being horny is among those feelings and that is okay)

Anyway, love is beautiful and deserves to be portrayed in all its depth and variety, Happy Pride!!! 🌈

[houseofaegon]

ENCHANTRESS ╱ BOB REYNOLDS SERIES

✷ ─── +18 MINORS DNI 𓏲  ◟ ♡ ˖ ࣪ emotional trauma, mentions of death/grief, witchcraft, blood magic, violence, necromancy, ritual magic, body horror (mechanical corpses), mental manipulation, emotional intensity and tension, supernatural possession, canon-typical violence, found family themes, bucky being a big brother, psychological instability (enchantress/void dynamic), unspoken desire, sexual tension (non-explicit), battle trauma.

✷ ─── AUTHOR'S NOTE. i cooked served and ate yall!!! damn okay chapter 2 came fassssstttttt im so excited and so inspired to write arabella and bob omg ughhh i love my babies. my soul probably left my body while writing this chapter because wtf just happened!! i'm sick. i want void so bad and i'm so obsessed with the whole enchantress x void dynamic filled with sexual tension and obsession and need. and yet they still haven't even touched each other. i'm crying. i'm pacing. i'm shaking with anticipation and anxiety. all of the above. we're already deep into the spiritual feral monsterfucker territory and i fear it's only gonna get worse from here. void is obsessed with enchantress, and i am obsessed with them both. i'm unwell. grab your tea, your candles, your crystals because it's about to get darker and hungrier. more chapters coming soon!! i love you all smm and thank you for letting me being unhinged and insane and always cheering for what i write. i appreciate you all so so so so damn much. thank you for reading and giving this unhinged little series a chance. love always, bri.

✷ ─── ENCHANTRESS SERIES. chapter one: beauty in tragedy. chapter two: the devil you know. chapter three: the witch. chapter four: moonlit waters. chapter five: divine hunger. chapter six: to burn & be burned. chapter seven: of teeth & tenderness. chapter eight: bound by blood. chapter nine: ashes between us. chapter ten: salt in the wound. chapter eleven: blood moon. chapter twelve: whispers in the dark. chapter thirteen: the witch and the void.

Life in the Watchtower was easy.

Or maybe Arabella just made it look that way.

Two weeks in, and she was already barefoot in the hallways, leaving salt trails behind her like breadcrumbs. Crystals littered every windowsill and shelf. Vinyls spun on her old record player each morning, Fleetwood Mac echoing through the tower as she cooked breakfast barefoot—black silk robe, bedhead curls, and a wooden spoon in her hand like a wand.

The lights stopped flickering when she passed. The air smelled like herbs and something sweeter. The walls stopped groaning. Dead plants came back to life.

It wasn't magic.

Or maybe it was.

She adapted faster than Bucky ever thought she would.

He’d built her a room the day she arrived—no questions, no ceremony. Just like Tony had done years ago. It wasn’t as high-tech, but it was safe. Warded. Quiet. Full of windows and her favorite things. And it felt just the same.

Felt like home.

Arabella had looked at it once, eyes shining just slightly, and said, “You remembered the salt in the corners.��

And Bucky had replied, “Of course I did.”

Because he did remember. All of it.

The way she couldn’t sleep without her crystals arranged just so. The smell of her cleansing incense, like pine and burnt clove. The soft hum of her chants in the dark, the way she muttered in Spanish when she was half-dreaming.

She slipped back into his world like she’d never left.

Yelena adored her.

Of course she did.

From the first day, they were chaos and fire, two halves of the same wicked coin. They sparred in the gym, Arabella casting misdirection charms mid-fight while Yelena laughed and tackled her anyway.

They had a running tally written in chalk on the kitchen wall. Yelena: 6. Arabella: 7. The last win was a draw, after they both ended up hexed, bruised, and breathless with laughter.

At night, they painted each other’s nails in wine-dark colors and gossiped in three languages. They danced barefoot on the roof under the moon, music blasting, hips swaying, Arabella’s dark hair catching the light like smoke.

“You’re my favorite war crime,” Yelena whispered one night, drunk on cheap vodka and found sisterhood.

“Right back at you,” Arabella replied, clinking their glasses together.

Ava was different. Quieter. Sharper. But not distant. She didn’t speak much—but with Arabella, she sat.

They trained together in silence, matched in precision and grace. Arabella stitched protective sigils into Ava’s gloves and never mentioned it. Ava slipped her protein bars and flowers in return and said, once, quietly, “Your presence is... grounding.”

Arabella had smiled, slow and soft. “So is yours.”

Sometimes they sat on the balcony together, watching the sun rise. Neither said a word. Neither needed to.

Alexei was absurd and endearing.

He doted on her like a second daughter—called her "my little shadow witch" and brought her strange, wonderful gifts from his past: pocket knives with history, books with blood-stained corners, a hand-painted flask from the Soviet years.

He taught her how to shoot with antique pistols even though she didn’t need to.

She taught him how to ward his whiskey with a hangover charm.

Once, she asked him why he always brought her things.

“Because daughters should have gifts,” he said with a shrug. “And you? You are special. You are mine now.”

She’d laughed and hugged him, just long enough to make him sniffle and pretend it was allergies.

Walker surprised her.

Not because he was charming. Because, honestly, he wasn't. He was irritating, loud, too rigid, always a little bit out of sync with her energy.

But there was something… earnest beneath it. Something human.

They argued constantly.

She called him Walmart Captain America or Walker-Red-Flag. He called her Witchypoo in retaliation. But there was a rhythm to it. A low hum of mutual tolerance that slowly grew into something more.

She read his tarot one night after he muttered something about not believing in “that bullshit.”

The next morning, he left an extra cup of coffee on the table for her. Black. Just how she liked it.

He still groaned when she walked into a room.

But he always walked in after her.

And then, there was Bob.

Bob Reynolds, who barely spoke above a whisper.

Bob, who watched her like he was trying not to fall apart. Like he already had.

He was quiet. Almost scared of her at first—not in a way that made her bristle, but in a way that made her ache. He looked at her like he knew she could destroy him.

And he kept showing up anyway.

Bob started coming to her room after midnight.

He started sitting with her at night. Quietly. Without words. She’d be pulling her tarot cards under the moonlight, charging her crystals on the sill, Stevie Nicks humming in the background—and Bob would just be there, reading a book in her chair.

Sometimes he fell asleep on her couch. Curled up like he was afraid he’d take up too much space. She never told him to leave. He never asked to stay. They didn’t talk about it.

But he started bringing his own mug for her tea. Started asking her what the cards meant when she shuffled them slow, eyes half-lidded with sleep.

He never touched her. Never tried. But he looked at her like she was something holy. Like she was the only thing in the world that made sense.

And the Enchantress?

She whispered. Not in hunger. Not in warning. But in awe.

“He sees us.”

Arabella didn’t answer. She never did. But she felt it—deep in her bones, under her skin, in the quiet hum of her breath when Bob looked up from his book and met her eyes.

There was no fear there. Not anymore. Just… recognition.

Like they were made of the same broken thing.

And when he fell asleep on her couch, breath even and hands unclenched, she watched the rise and fall of his chest and whispered ancient words beneath her breath—not to keep him out.

But to keep him safe.

One night he broke the quiet.

“What does it mean,” he asked softly, “when—when the uh, cards keeps showing up upside down?”

Arabella didn’t look up. She was lighting a candle. Her fingers moved with purpose.

“It depends on the card,” she murmured. “But usually? It means something’s resisting.”

Bob swallowed.

She glanced up then, sharp and knowing. “Are you resisting, Bob?”

He didn’t answer. But inside his mind, The Void stirred.

“She’s not afraid of you,” it whispered. “She’d let us in.”

Bob’s breath hitched.

Arabella tilted her head. “You okay?”

He nodded once. Too fast.

She smirked. “Liar.”

The Void purred.

“She’s ours,” it whispered slowly. “Let me speak to her. Just once. Let me see how much her darkness glows.”

Bob gritted his teeth. Looked away.

Arabella didn’t press. She just reached out and gently placed a crystal in his palm—warm from her skin.

“For when it gets too loud,” she said.

Bob didn’t let go. Not for a long time.

Three months had already passed, and life seemed easier for Arabella. The kind of ease that came slowly, after years of unrest. The kind that settled in her bones like warm tea and candlelight.

She still walked barefoot through the halls. Still lined doorways with salt. Still played Fleetwood Mac on her record player every morning like it was a ritual—because it was. Still danced under the moonlight like no one was watching, even though Bob always did. She laughed more. Slept better. She was healing, quietly, completely.

But The Enchantress never slept. She whispered, always. A constant thrum beneath Arabella’s skin. Like wind at the back of her neck.

And every time Bob walked into a room—every time his eyes found hers across the kitchen, across the training mat, across the quiet of her candlelit room...

The Enchantress screamed. Not in pain. Not in rage. In want.

“He carries so much darkness and pain in him,” she hissed. “Let me taste it.”

Arabella had kept her buried. Chained beneath crystal grids and ancestral spellwork. But Bob made everything crack open. Bob felt like her. And the Enchantress was starting to see freedom.

Not to destroy him.

To touch him.

To speak to the Void and be spoken to in return.

It was warm in the kitchen. Sunlight spilled across the floor, soft and golden, washing over the table where the team had gathered.

Arabella was humming under her breath, barefoot and wrapped in a black silk robe that fell off one shoulder. Her hair was a halo of curls, her eyes half-lidded with sleep. A record played in the background—Stevie, again.

The table was loud.

Yelena was trying to argue that vodka counted as a breakfast food while simultaneously sneaking bacon off Alexei’s plate.

Walker rolled his eyes. “You people are unhinged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Ava muttered, sipping her coffee.

Alexei grinned over his mug. “In Russia, we ate meat for breakfast. And sometimes men.”

“Okay, Hannibal,” Yelena shot back.

“Enough,” Bucky said, laughing into his cup. “Let the witch serve the food in peace.”

Arabella smirked as she walked over with a plate of pancakes—perfect, golden, stacked high, topped with warm berries.

Then—she stopped.

Her body went still mid-step.

The plate slipped from her hands. Fell. Shattered against the tile at her feet like a crack in the world. Syrup and fruit and ceramic scattered across the floor.

Silence slammed into the room.

Bucky shot to his feet. “Bells?”

She didn’t answer.

Her eyes glazed—then turned black for the briefest second. A flicker. A flash.

“Arabella.” His voice sharpened. “What’s wrong? Bells, talk to me.”

She blinked slowly. Her voice was barely a breath. “There’s something happening.”

Yelena was on her feet. “Bella—?”

But Arabella was already moving.

She crossed the room like she was sleepwalking—barefoot across shards of porcelain, bleeding but unaware. Her eyes locked on the console in the corner.

The tower’s tech wasn’t hers—but her fingers moved like it was. Smooth. Instinctive. Like the codes were written in her blood.

“Arabella,” Ava said, voice tight. “What are you doing?”

"You're bleeding," Bucky whispered.

She didn’t answer.

Everyone followed—hovering behind her as screens lit up, one by one. Her eyes flickered, scanning feeds, fingers dancing like she wasn’t even thinking.

And then—

The screen froze.

And her heart dropped.

Security footage from an old, sealed-off subway station. Flickering light. Smoke curling from the stone. Runes—her runes—scratched into metal. Twisting. Burning.

And in the far corner—machines.

Half-dead. Half-alive.

Stirring.

Moving.

“Oh my god,” she whispered.

Yelena grabbed her arm. “What is that?”

Arabella stepped back, hand pressed to her lips.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream.

But her voice was hollow when she said, “They’re using dark magic. Twisting it.”

Her pulse thudded through the room like a war drum.

Bucky looked at her. “What do we do?”

Arabella turned toward him slowly. Her eyes still rimmed in black. “We stop it,” she said. Her voice was calm.

But the floor beneath her feet had already begun to hum.

The energy was different now. The warmth of the kitchen was gone—snuffed out by what Arabella had seen. What she felt. The shattered plate still lay back on the floor, forgotten. Everyone filed into the briefing room in silence. Even Yelena, usually muttering curses under her breath, said nothing.

Arabella stood at the head of the room now. Not Bucky. Not this time.

The screen behind her glowed—static-edged footage looping in jagged, grainy frames. The subway station. The runes. The machines.

Her runes.

Bucky leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossed. His gaze never left her.

“Tell us,” he said.

Arabella’s jaw was tight. Her hands didn’t shake—but her voice was colder than it had been in months.

“There’s an old network of sealed tunnels under Brooklyn,” she began. “The MTA shut them down decades ago. No access. No cameras. But something got in.”

She clicked the screen forward.

Close-up footage. A sigil burned into metal. Corrupted lines of spellwork. Smoke curling in unnatural shapes.

“This isn’t just tech. It’s necrotic magic—dark, ancient, and bound to blood.” She looked up. “My blood.”

The room went still.

“They’re using resurrection rites. The same one's I learned from my grandmother. Something’s trying to merge death magic with..."

She hesitated. Her hands hovered above the console, fingers trembling.

“Merge it with what, Bells?” Bucky asked gently, stepping forward.

She swallowed. And then she clicked one more frame forward. The screen froze.

A metallic body, half-rebuilt, cables woven through bone, its chestplate still glowing with a dull, rust-colored arc reactor.

Stamped in silver, unmistakable:

Stark Industries.

Arabella’s mouth parted. Her eyes filled instantly. A sharp breath caught in her throat, and her knees wobbled slightly. She reached for the table like it might hold her up. She stared.

At the logo.

At what it meant.

At what it was

And what it wasn’t.

“They’re using his work,” she whispered, voice breaking. “Tony’s work. They’re—he’s gone, and they’re using what he built to… to raise the dead.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“I spent years learning how to put spirits to rest. How to honor them. And they’re using his code to trap them. Trap the souls of the dead. To force them back into metal and ash like—like it’s a tool. Like it’s not sacred.”

She shook her head.

“It’s not just my magic,” she breathed. “It’s his name. His legacy. They’re twisting everything.”

Bucky moved without hesitation. He reached out, gently rested a hand on her back. Didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

Arabella didn’t cry—not fully. But her shoulders trembled.

And when she finally looked up, her eyes were dark. Not black, not yet.

But close.

“I’m going down there,” she said, voice low. “And I’m burning it to the fucking ground.”

The silence held like breath.

Arabella stood in front of the screen, her shoulders squared, her hands still shaking. Not from fear. But from rage. The kind of fury that lived in bone and had the power to crush them. The kind passed down through the blood of women who had always been told their power was too much.

“We’re going with you,” Bucky said, his voice stern.

Arabella blinked. Her mouth parted. “No,” she said, voice hoarse. “You don’t understand. This magic—it’s not meant for you. It’s old. It’s dark. It’s not made for you.”

She turned to face them all. Her eyes shimmered, rimmed with black. “It wants to hurt. It feeds on what you love. You step into that circle unprotected and it will devour you. I’m the only one who can walk into that circle and survive it. Alone.”

Bucky’s expression didn’t change. His voice didn’t waver.

“You’re not going in alone, Bella.”

She exhaled, sharp. “Bucky—”

“No.” He stepped forward. Firm. Grounded. “We’re a team. A family. And family sticks together.”

Arabella opened her mouth—but Yelena cut in before she could speak.

“You think I’m going to let you crawl into hell without me? Bitch, please.” She crossed her arms. “If you die and I’m not there, I’m going to hex your ghost. Badly.”

Alexei nodded solemnly. “I will bring vodka and blessed grenades.”

Ava’s voice was soft. “I'm in."

Walker looked like he wanted to protest. Arabella raised an eyebrow.

He immediately nodded. “I’ll… drive.”

Arabella almost laughed. Almost.

Then—he stepped forward.

Bob.

He didn’t speak at first. Just moved, slow and deliberate, until he stood beside her—close, but not too close. Not touching. Never touching.

Arabella didn’t turn her head, but she felt him like a second heartbeat. The weight of him. The pull. The thrum of his power bleeding into the air between them, brushing against her skin like smoke.

Too close.

Inside her chest, The Enchantress stirred.

“He’s here,” she purred, velvet-smooth and low. “Let me taste his darkness.”

Arabella’s breath caught. She held herself still, fingers curling tight at her sides. If she reached out, even a fraction of an inch, she knew she wouldn’t stop. She knew the Enchantress would rise with want, not war.

And in the stillness between them, The Void whispered inside Bob’s mind.

“She burns. I want to feel how hot.”

He didn’t move either. Not even a breath out of rhythm. But his jaw clenched, his eyes locked on something distant, her, and his hands flexed once like they ached to lift and couldn’t.

"I'm going with you. You can't do this alone," Bob whispered.

Arabella didn’t answer at first. Couldn’t. The words hung between them like smoke, like a spell half-cast and waiting.

She exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the glowing screen. Her jaw clenched. Her voice, when it came, was barely a whisper. “You don’t understand what this kind of magic does, Bob.”

Inside her chest, the Enchantress curled tighter, more awake than ever.

“Let him come,” she whispered. “Let him see what I can do with a god in my hands.”

Arabella blinked hard. Shut her eyes. Shut the voice out.

“I’m still coming with you,” he whispered. The Void stretched just beneath the surface of him like it recognized her.

And Arabella, after a beat, nodded. Just once. She didn’t say thank you. She didn’t say don’t.

She said, “Then stay behind me.”

And prayed to everything she knew that he would.

The tunnels beneath Brooklyn were colder than they sould have been, not the kind of cold you could feel on your skin, but the kind that settled into bone and memory. Haunted. Like a nightmare. The air was thick with rot and cooper, and the deeper they went, the more the city above felt like a distant dream.

Ava and Yelena took point, flashlights flickering across crumbling tile and twisted metal, weapons steady. Bucky and Walker kept a slow, even pace behind them, eyes always moving, always watching. Arabella hung back with Bob, her steps silent. She didn't speak. She couldn't. The walls were already whispering.

They’d passed the third tunnel junction when Bucky turned his head just slightly, enough to glance back, voice low. “You sure you wanna do this?”

Arabella didn’t even blink. “I’m the only one who can.” Her voice carried, calm and sharp, no room for argument.

The further they went, the worse it got. The walls began to hum—not with electricity, but with something else. Something dark. Something old. The kind of hum that lived in ritual circles and the mouths of the dead. Arabella’s fingers twitched at her sides, power prickling just beneath her skin. Her breath shortened as she walked, every step dragging her deeper into the echo of magic that felt too much like her own.

Bob shifted beside her, breath stuttering, his hands flexing open and closed. He didn’t say anything, but she felt it—his power swelling beneath the surface like a wave waiting to crash. And then came the sound. Not footsteps. Not breathing. Scraping.

They didn’t have time to react before the tunnel erupted around them—metal shrieking, bone cracking, a dozen bodies dropping from the shadows like meat puppets sewn together with cable and magic. They moved wrong—jagged, broken—eyes glowing red, limbs clicking as if trying to remember how to be human.

Yelena cursed under her breath, blade already drawn, her voice snapping out like a gunshot.

“Well, shit.” Ava phased just in time to avoid a clawed hand, her body flickering with static as she reappeared behind it, driving a blade into the base of its neck.

"What the fuck—" Walker muttered, firing his gun. It did absolutely nothing.

Bucky barked out orders, trying to pull them back, keep the team together, but they were splitting—forced apart by sheer chaos.

Arabella didn’t move.

She walked into the center of it all, slow, deliberate, untouched by the panic around her. One of the creatures lunged and froze midair, stopped by a sudden, invisible force—its body cracking in place like glass. Her voice was quiet. Almost kind.

“Enchantress.”

It wasn’t just a name. It was a summoning.

Her eyes flicked black, her pupils blown wide, and the transformation rolled through her like a flood. Her body straightened, her hair lifted in a wind that didn’t exist, her lips curled into something that was not a smile but close enough to frighten. Glowing sigils ignited across her skin—runes carved into flesh, ancient and burning.

The Enchantress rose with her breath, her voice shifting into something layered, rich, older than anything alive in that tunnel. She didn’t blink as the corpses charged again.

She lifted her hand and whispered in Spanish, a language soaked in blood and moonlight. “Your magic doesn't belong here. Give it back to the earth were it came from."

The wave of enemies collapsed like dominos, falling with a sound like wet bone and shattering metal. One screamed, high and broken, before bursting into smoke. Another reached for her and disintegrated mid-motion. Enchantress didn’t flinch. She smiled.

Bob staggered back a step, eyes locked on her, chest heaving like he couldn’t quite breathe. Inside his head, the Void surged awake, not angry, not violent—fascinated.

“She’s like us,” it whispered. “No—she’s better. She was born like this.”

His hands sparked with light, gold bleeding to black, his vision dimming at the edges. The storm within him pulsed, and he reached toward it, toward her, even if his hands never left his sides.

Enchantress turned her head, eyes glowing black. She looked at him and smiled.

Enchantress didn’t speak, but Bob heard her anyway.

“I see you. I see what's inside you. The darkness. Let me taste it.”

And inside him, the Void growled in response.

“Take it. I want to see what you’ll become when you touch me.”

The words weren’t said aloud, but Enchantress heard them. Felt them.

Her smile deepened, slow and sharp, and she tilted her head like a cat watching prey twitch.

“Oh,” she purred, voice a syrupy echo only he could hear, “you’re going to beg for it.”

And Bob, shaking from the inside out, didn’t dare say a word.

Bucky moved, boots crunching over scorched stone and broken machines as the smoke settled. His voice was low, careful. “Bells, come back to me.”

But she didn’t move.

She was still standing in the center of the carnage, still Enchantress, still glowing faintly with that ancient, seductive light. Her eyes, black as ink, weren’t on him—they were still locked on Bob. Fixed. Fascinated. Her mouth was curved, wicked and slow. The runes on her skin pulsed like a heartbeat.

“She doesn’t want to come back,” the Enchantress whispered, gaze still locked on the man who hadn’t moved, who looked like he was barely breathing.

Bucky stepped closer, steadier now. He’d done this before—held her through magic comas, pulled her back from the edge more times than he could count—but this was different.

She’d never resisted.

Not like this.

“Arabella,” he said again, firmer this time, closer now. “It’s me. It’s Bucky. Come on, baby witch. Don’t make me beg.”

The Enchantress tilted her head, almost curious, but didn’t turn. Didn’t flinch. She was too deep in it, too close to something she hadn’t felt before, and Bucky’s chest twisted.

He took another step. “Bells. Come back.”

And then—Bob moved.

One slow, shaking step forward. Not threatening. Not demanding. His voice was rough and low. “Bring her back.”

Her eyes flickered. Just slightly. The light dimmed.

The Enchantress blinked, and for a moment, there was something soft behind her expression—like a memory. Like regret. She looked at Bob as if she were memorizing him, and then she smiled. It was all teeth and hunger and something ancient and beautiful. Her lips parted, breath curling in the air between them.

“Next time, I’ll let you touch me.”

And then she collapsed.

Bucky was already moving, catching her before she hit the floor. Her body went slack in his arms, her head falling against his chest, her breath shallow but steady. He crouched with her, cradling her like he’d done too many times before.

“Bells,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face, “hey, come on—look at me.”

Her eyelids fluttered. A soft groan slipped from her throat. “What… happened?”

“You stopped it,” Bucky murmured, voice rough around the edges. “You brought it down. You did good.” Her lashes trembled, her eyes opening slowly, brown again. Human again. But tired. So tired.

Behind them, Bob stood frozen, hands still trembling at his sides, gold and black flickering faintly beneath his skin. His throat was dry. His pulse too loud. He couldn’t move—not yet. Not when the echo of her magic still clung to the air like perfume and fire, not when her voice—her other voice—still rang like a bell behind his eyes. He could still feel her. Like a storm on the edge of touch.

And then, deep in his mind, the Void stirred.

It didn’t roar. It didn’t rage.

It purred.

“You brought her back. Why?”

A pause. A shiver up his spine.

“I would’ve let her stay. She wanted to stay. She wanted us.”

Bob swallowed, jaw tight.

The Void curled around him like a shadow, low and amused.

“You’re lying to yourself, Robert. You want her too. The way she sees you. The way she smiled.”

Bob clenched his fists. Didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

But he didn’t deny it either.

And the Void laughed—soft and satisfied.

“Next time, you won’t send her away.”

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐅𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 © 2025. DO NOT STEAL, REPOST, OR COPY THIS STORY TO TUMBLR, WATTPAD, AO3, OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM. Moodboards and graphics made by @houseofaegon DO NOT repost or reuse without credit. chain divider by @cursed-carmine

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[egforsakentakes]

okay lets get some azuretime headcannons in on this

(TW SUICIDE MENTION AND OBSESSION AND CULT BEHAVIOR)

- azure was born in the cult, twotime joined after their life went downhill and they ended up all alone and very mentally unstable.

- two time only gained their current level of faith in spawn after killing azure. without their support system and fp, they totally dropped off the deep end.

- azure is the reason two time stayed in the cult. not the reason they joined, but the reason two time didnt leave at the hesitance the other cultists showed them as an "outsider" azure doesnt really understand what ther presense means to two time, but two time never really had anyone who could put up with their psychotic tendancies and mood swings. to them, azure was their angel.

- they were NOT the healthiest. not outright abusive, but theyre two young cult members. Azure never holds a grudge against two time even when they honestly should, and two time tends to get delusional and has intense moodswings.

- two time talked about life outside, all the troubles they had and how they sort of miss their family sometimes and azure said "why would you want that anymore?" (azure was raised in the cult and genuinly just does not understand what is so good outside of it, theyre VERY groomed by the cult since theyre born there)

- spawn cult poisons its followers regularly. its a strategy to get rid of the less faithful ones (they give them higher doses) and to keep them pliant. its both a ritualistic and a casual thing, like there is both purposeful mystery herb tea and there is probably accidental lead in the water.

- two time is pushed deeper into their spawn obsession through other peoples ridicule. when the whole group looks at them weird they get excited at the fact that theyre all gonna get punished and twotime wont, that the world outside really IS as bad as amarah believed.

- twotime can genuinely do rituals and spiritual shit. its not a warlock thing its a sorcerer thing, it comes from within and not from a higher power (aka the spawn). rituals, hypnosis, ect. they.. dont really need those sacrifices or whatever but they "work" as a calming mechanism and a faith which strengthens their natural power making them believe its a warlock senario.

- twotime killed themself after killing azure. theyd tried convincing them into a double suicide before and azure always stopped them, now no one could stop them. In their shock of killing their partner, they became deluded for a couple days before getting back to reality and, in their mind, "meeting azure as a shadow".

- two time before they were forsaken but after the ritual, often forgot they even killed azure and would wonder where they were and sleep in their room.

- azure often struggled to use their legs and used crutches for most terrain. in two times bouts of obsessive delusion where they considered azure an angel, they would consider the idea of them dying just so they could be freed of their body and be able to use their legs better. (two time themself had their tail cut off for not being like spawn, so this is a genuine concern in their mind)

💋

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