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#but it was the only thing i could move around easily while readjusting the new soulmates from the start chapter
luimagines · 5 months
Text
To Cope
Another commission!
They asked for platonic Time, helping/consoling Reader after the death of a loved one.
Masterlist
Content under the cut.
It was hard to explain.
The pain… The pain was enough to shut you down. It was raw. It was deep and primal. It cuts you to the core. It knocks you off your feet. You felt like you were falling even if your feet were still planted on solid ground.
You felt sick. Nauseous.
Tears pricked at your eyes before you could fully control yourself. You counted yourself lucky that there was no one else around you at the moment because if someone saw you, they would ask questions. And you would have to answer. And if you answer, you don’t think you would be able to hold yourself together for as long as you’ve been managing to. Saying it out loud would make it real. And if it was real, then there was no coming back from this.
You had lost them. You weren’t even home and they’re gone. You’re never going to see them again. They won’t be waiting for you when you open that door.
A sob rips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. This isn’t the place to cry. The others are going to hear you. You won’t be able to explain-
A twig snaps somewhere to your right.
You hold yourself tighter, holding your breath as if that’s going to stop them from finding you.
You don’t even bother to look up and see who it is. You curl in tighter, trying to squeeze the pain out of you. The other person pauses. You can’t see them but you can hear that they’ve stopped moving. Slowly, as if they weren’t sure how to go about it, they approached you and sat by your side.
You sniffle, cursing yourself internally. You didn’t want anyone to see you this way. You had hoped that you would return early enough to hide your tears. But now you’ve been caught. You struggle to open your mouth but you still find the courage to speak. “...Go away…”
It's more a plea than a demand. It sounds pathetic. You feel pathetic. It’s too much to hold in and another sob slips past you.
An arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you tightly into their side. “Let it out.”
You gasp and look up. You hadn’t expected Time to find you. He looks at you patiently and you can see the little worry lines beside his eyes. Gently, he raises his other hand and wipes the tears from your cheeks. “You can cry… It’s ok…”
It’s as if the dam broke. Before you can even register the forces in your heart, sobs tumble out of you in a river of emotion. It’s too strong for you to hold back anymore. 
Time turns and pulls you into his arms, holding onto you tightly. It’s just enough for you to let go of your emotions. It’s the strength you wish you had to squeeze your feelings out. 
Your heart hurts. It hurts so much.
Time says nothing and sighs to himself. He brings his hand up to gently run his hand over your head in soothing motions, holding onto you as you cry. You don’t hold him back. You’re still trying to pick up the pieces of your crumbling walls.
Time is ok with this. He doesn’t know all the details about the death of… well… All he knows is that your very world revolved around them. And now they’re gone. He… can only guess what that feels like.
The moment passes and your sobs dissolve into hiccups. You finally grab onto Time and tuck your face into the crook of his neck, looking for comfort from the man. 
He doesn’t hesitate to hold you back. Time holds you tighter than before and starts to gently rock back and forth. 
Eventually your hiccups subside as well but Time doesn’t push you away. 
A beat passes as Time keeps rocking and petting you softly. “I’m sorry.” He says. “I’m sure you wanted to be alone… but this isn’t something you should deal with alone. We’re all here for you.”
You sniffle and keep quiet.
That doesn’t stop Time though. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to move at all tomorrow. Breath. Save your strength.”
You bite your lip, feeling a little indignant. “It hurts, Link. They’re gone and I- I’m- I can’t even-”
“Shh…” Time wipes away the last of the runaway tears. “Don’t. There are many things in this life that we cannot control and there are many things that will happen when we least expect it. We’re simply at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
A whine escapes you. You clutch onto Time like a lifeline, gripping onto his shirt and shoulders as if something threatened to tear you away. Time says nothing about it and simply holds you close.
“...I already miss them.”
“I know.” Time whispers, aching on your behalf. “That feeling won’t go away. You just learn to live with it. You learn to find a new normal.”
You can’t accept his words. It’s too fresh. It’s too recent. You shake your head, threatening to sob once more into his shoulder. “...I don’t want a new normal.”
Time doesn’t want to see you hurting as much as you don’t want to hurt. “You can’t stay this way. They wouldn’t want you to stay this way.”
His words strike a cord and you finally lift your head to look him in the eyes. Time’s heart sinks. You look destroyed. Time wipes your face again, even if the tears are slowing down. “It doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow. All in due time. I’m sorry you’re hurting. I can’t help as much as I’d like.”
You sniffle again and lean in, resting your head on his shoulder once more. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you really needed that cry. “...You’re helping enough… Thank you, Link.”
Time nods and wraps his arms securely around you. “I’m here for you.”
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badasbebi · 2 months
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home is where the heart is
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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: new to seoul in search of revitalizing opportunities, you're excited to see what the city has in store for you. however, after numerous awkward encounters with your (hot) neighbor and other unfortunate circumstances, you start to doubt whether this move was right for you.
✦ genre/au: fluff, smut MDNI!!, neighbor!au, accidentally turned into a coffeeshop!au as well. maybe some slight angst?
✦ word count: 14k
✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors. switch!bada and switch!reader?? sort of?? y/n has a toy collection that could probably contribute to the production of toy story 5.
✦ a/n: initially really liked this story. then, i sat on it for three days, and now I'm not really a fan of this? i also feel like i forgot to how to write? hope yall still enjoy though! i have a few ideas I'm rlly excited abt anyway <3
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The elevator lobby echoes with the shuffling of your feet and the thud of the cardboard box shifting within your grasp. Your new apartment complex seems to grow larger with each step, the space stretching endlessly as you aim for one of the metal doors. The box, marked “fragile,” presses into your arms, and beads of sweat drip down your forehead as you internally curse at yourself for your excessive overpacking and stubbornness. 
 You don’t know who or what made you believe you were capable of doing this move entirely by yourself, but you are now facing the consequences for past you's groundless self-confidence. As you take a step forward, your arms wobble under the strain, and the box slips precariously, threatening to escape your grasp. You tighten your grip, determined not to let the flimsy box defeat you. You were not going to let a box labeled fragile, of all things, be the reason for your demise. No way.
While attempting to steady yourself, you vaguely hear a loud ping reverberate throughout the lobby. Like the easily hyperfixated person you are, you pay no mind to it, focusing only on the task at hand. The last thing you need is to drop the box and have its contents shatter against the floor. You would never forgive yourself.
Just as you pause to readjust the box, the elevator door opens, and footsteps follow it. A tall, dark-haired woman with bangs stumbles into the opening, her phone in her hands. She stops in her tracks, clearly distracted, and you foolishly walk straight into her.
The box falls from your grasp, and as it plummets to the ground, you have an out-of-body experience. This was it. The box is going to hit the ground, and you will have lost this uphill battle. In slow motion, you watch the box tilt backward and forwards, suspended in midair for what seems like forever until, suddenly, you feel your hand wrap around it. As you blink away the stars clouding your vision, you register that you've saved the box from certain doom, just barely. A sigh of relief escapes your lips.
A triumphant smile graces your lips as you clutch the box tightly. It’s a bit more crumpled than before, but it is still very much in one piece (ignoring the fact that the fragile item inside the box was most definitely broken). Gravity was no match for your superior reflexes.
As you look up, your smile falters. Your eyes widen, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You just ran into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, and she is staring at you. Her eyes, framed by thick-rimmed glasses, gaze at you, wide and unblinking. She looks at you as if you were the most embarrassing thing she has ever seen, and it takes all your willpower not to turn around and run back down the hall.
Her long, dyed black hair hangs in a braid down her shoulder. Her outfit consists of a plain, oversized black t-shirt, baggy pants, and a pair of worn nikes. The only pops of color are the bright yellow socks poking out from underneath the white shoes, and the streaks of blonde in her hair. 
"Oh, my god, I am so sorry!" you finally manage, stumbling over your words. "I should've been paying attention to where I was going."
The woman seems to snap out of her daze with a vigorous shake of her head. "No, no, it's fine. Don't worry about it," she responds with a small laugh. Her voice is light and melodic, and the sound makes your heart skip a beat. She glances down at her phone, and a slight frown creases her forehead. "I wasn't watching where I was going either."
You give a small, awkward chuckle in response, but you feel your nerves ease a little. She didn't seem weirded out, thank the stars. 
She glances down at the box, and her eyes widen as if she is just noticing its existence.
"Here, let me help you," she says as she effortlessly picks up and takes the box from your hands before you can even think to say no, a shiver running up your spine at the contact. 
"You really don't have to," you protest weakly, making much of an effort to actually stop her. 
"It's the least I can do after making you almost drop the box." She gives you a warm smile, and the butterflies in your stomach start dancing wildly. 
"Thank you." You return the smile, feeling the corners of your mouth twitch.
She turns on her heel and gestures to the elevator doors. "Where are you headed?" she asks, pressing the up button with her elbow.
"Uh, floor 8," you answer. She nods, and when the elevator doors open, the two of you step inside.
The combination of the woman's vanilla-scented perfume and elevator music does little to soothe your anxiety. You stand side-by-side in awkward silence. You shift uncomfortably, feeling your cheeks burn. What do you even say to a person this gorgeous? You clear your throat and will the courage to speak. You are an adult. You can talk to people. You got this! Just be casual. Easy peasy. Just say words! Just. say. them. 
"So, uh, is this your first time using the elevator?" You wince.
Maybe not those words.
"No, I usually use the stairs." She says with a giggle, seemingly unfazed by your pathetic attempt at conversation. "But, um, is this your first time here?"
You nod. "I just moved here today." You pause. "How did you know?"
"I just—haven't seen you here before," she says simply, looking you up and down with an expression you can't quite decipher. "I'm Bada, by the way."
"Bada," you repeat, testing out the name on your tongue. It sounds nice. You smile, and the tips of your ears grow hot. "I'm Y/N."
"Y/N." She returns your smile. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise." Your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt. Your eyes wander over to the numbers lit up on the panel, and your face pales when you see that the two of you are already on the eighth floor. The elevator slowly comes to a stop, and you swallow thickly. "Well, I guess this is my stop," you say as you step into the hallway. 
"Did you want me to walk you to your apartment? This is actually the floor that I-" Bada starts, but a faint chime rings out before she can finish. She pulls her phone out, holding the box with one arm, and frowns at the screen.
"Ah, damn, I gotta go," she says. She looks back up at you and gives you a smile, although a little less bright. "I'm going to be late for a meeting. Do you think you can manage?"
You stare, momentarily perplexed by the kindness this random stranger is displaying towards you, but then you catch yourself, and smile.
You shake your head, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, I've got it. I'm a big girl," you reassure her. "Thank you for helping me, though."
She hands the box over, and your fingers brush again, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.
"Of course," she replies, smiling. "Anytime. It was nice meeting you."
"Yup."
You give each other a brief wave, and you watch the elevator doors slide shut. 
As you stare at the spot she was once at, you feel a pang of disappointment in your chest. You wish you could have gotten to know her better, but there was always another day. You lived in the same building, after all. Maybe you'd run into her again. 
You struggle with the box a bit more, and then you finally enter your apartment, the door clicking shut behind you.  
The first thing you do is drop the box in the entryway and walk over to the nearest wall. You lean your back against it, sliding down until your butt hits the ground. You sit there for a moment, gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling window across the room, trying to process everything that just happened. And, well, everything else that's been happening in your life. 
As the sun dips below the skyline, casting long shadows across the city, you find yourself finally having to wrestle with contrasting feelings of excitement over this fresh start, mingled with a weariness that's settled into your bones after a day of moving boxes and thinking of the uncertainty surrounding the days ahead of you. 
Just a month ago, you made the spontaneous decision to move to chase your dreams in Seoul, a country an entire ocean away from where you're from. Now you are in a new city, a new apartment, a potential new job, and you have mixed feelings. You're excited about the possibilities but also scared of the loneliness you know is inevitable. It is a loneliness that is necessary, though. You’ve spent too long stuck, moping about your unfortunate circumstances in the same mundane city you grew up in. You were aching for something new. As terrified as you are, you know that it’ll eventually feel worth it. It has to. 
In the meantime, your living space echoes with emptiness and awaits your touch. Exhausted but determined, you eventually drag yourself off the ground, the weight of the day catching up to you, but not stopping you.  
You scan the space in front of you, surrounded by the remnants of your previous life, now neatly packed into cardboard containers. The living room, cluttered with boxes marked "pictures," "books," and "memories," feels too overwhelming, so you decide to tackle the kitchen first. Igniting your last reserves of energy, you unpack your pots and pans as your thoughts drifts to old routines. As the clock ticks away and you find new sacred spots for your favorite items, your exhaustion begins to fade as you infuse the space with pieces of yourself, fueled by the realization that this is your sanctuary that you could call your own.  
By the time you empty your last box for the day, the apartment glows with your presence. It’s nowhere near finished, but you already feel as if your choices have been validated. You collapse onto your makeshift bed, and as you close your eyes, a smile plays on your lips. 
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 "I asked for three and three-quarter pumps of brown sugar. Is this really the best you can do?"
You stare at the cup sitting before you. Three and three-quarters, your ass. Who the hell was going to measure that? You glance up at the man before you. His face is contorted into a snarl as he glares at you, as if he expects an apology. It takes everything in you not to throw the steaming hot cup of coffee in his face.  
"Sir, I'm sorry, but I believe that this is indeed three and one half—i mean—three quarter pumps," you lie, attempting to brush past your stumble in the calmest voice possible. You try to muster a professional smile, but it's a difficult feat. 
"Bullshit. You clearly can't read a scale properly or hear. Just do it over, and make it right. Three and three QUARTERS," He huffs, shoving the cup in your direction.  
Your fists clench behind the counter. "Yes, sir," you mutter through gritted teeth, your politeness hanging by a thread.
You dump his original drink in the trash and grab a fresh cup. The man watches as you add the pumps, one by one, ensuring that each one is added correctly. It is, and instead of being grateful that you did not put three and three-quarters of spit in his cup, he rolls his eyes, mumbling to himself about younger generations being too lazy to do their jobs right the first time. He takes the cup from you, without saying thank you, and struts off. 
You sigh, shaking your head. You needed to get your blood pressure checked. 
"You okay?" a voice asks.
You turn around, coming face to face with your coworker, Mijoo. She stands before you, leaning against the counter, a sympathetic smile on her face.
You groan, running a hand over your face. "I don't know how much longer I can take this. How have you worked here for this long?" you reply, your voice muffled by your hands. 
Mijoo shrugs. "Honestly, you get used to it after a while. And on the rare occasion that you run into a genuinely nice customer, I promise they make up for the hundreds of shitty interactions." 
Without moving your hands from your face, you state, “That doesn't make me feel any better." 
Mijoo laughs, bright and bubbly, and pats your shoulder. "Don't worry, it'll get easier, I promise. You'll be desensitized in no time! Seriously, I feel nothing when people call me stupid, or an imbecile, or a bitch-"
You frown, dropping your hands. "Mijoo, that's awful." 
Mijoo sighs and walks around the counter to wrap her arm around your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Just don't stress about it, okay? You'll be fine. Plus, we've got each other!" 
You return the gesture, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You're right."
Mijoo has been your rock throughout this whole process. She was the one who interviewed you for this crappy job, and she was the one who showed you the ropes inside and outside of the cafe you work at. In addition to showing you her go-to spot in the cafe for mental breakdowns, she's shown you her favorite spots in Seoul. If it weren't for her, you're sure you'd be a complete and utter wreck.
"What would I do without you?" you ask.
Mijoo chuckles, squeezing you tighter. "Probably have a lot more panic attacks," she replies, causing the two of you to erupt in laughter.
The alarm on your phone blares, signaling that it's time for you to go home. You and Mijoo share a dejected glance. You hated leaving her alone at the shop, but she always insisted that you go home before the rush. You had no choice but to agree. 
"See you tomorrow," you tell her as you shrug on your jacket.
"Bright and early," she responds, throwing you a wave.
"Are you at least going home soon?"
She shakes her head. "Nah, I've got a few things I need to finish up, so I'll probably be here for a few more hours. I'll lock up."
You sigh. "Alright, but please text me when you get home."
She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Will do. Now, go. Go home and get some sleep, you deserve it."
You make your way to the entrance, giving Mijoo one last glance. She waves to you, a big grin on her face. When you open the door and step out, the bell above you chimes.
As the crisp air hits your face, you can feel the tension drain from your body. A content smile graces your lips, and you can feel your mood instantly improving. Even though your job was stressful, there was nothing quite like coming home after a long shift.
The sun has already begun to set, and the streets are bustling. People pass by you, not paying attention as they make their way home. Some have earphones in, while others are on their phones. You watch as couples and groups of friends chat and laugh as they make their way to whatever destination they have in mind. You feel a small pang of loneliness in your chest.
Your apartment isn't too far from your work, so you reach your destination quickly despite the heaviness in your heart. You're exhausted, and all you want to do is go home, cook dinner, and crawl into bed.
You ride the elevator to your floor, and you're reminded of the time you ran into Bada months ago. Her name echoed through your head every time you heard this elevator music, which was every day. You haven't seen her since that day, which wasn't really a surprise. It was a big building.
When the doors open, you make a beeline to your door, fishing your keys out of your pocket. As soon as you unlock your door, you practically skip inside. You immediately slip off your shoes and toss your jacket and keys onto the counter. You let out a satisfied sigh as you plop down on the couch, closing your eyes. You stay like that for a few moments, listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner. After a few minutes, you hear your phone ping. Yelping, you sit up and pull it out of your pocket, hoping it's the text you've been anticipating from a landlord. Disappointment settles in the pit of your stomach when you see it's just a spam email. Groaning, you drop the phone onto the couch next to you.
You sit there, wallowing in your misery and loneliness. The quiet hum of the AC does little to soothe your worries.
You miss your friends, but the distance has made it hard for them to keep up with you, and vice versa. They all had lives, and jobs, and families. But you didn't. All you had was an empty apartment. And you had Mijoo, but you felt terrible relying on her for everything. 
As you’re ruminating on the pathetic reality of your social life, a loud bang comes from the wall behind you. You jump in shock and quickly turn to look at the source. You can barely make out a muffled, feminine voice, saying something that sounds like a curse. Seconds later, music starts playing through the walls. Loud, bass-heavy music. You sit up,  your hand hovering over the plaster, feeling perplexed. You haven't heard anyone in the apartment next to you since you moved in. You just assumed you were neighborless. Maybe someone new moved in? You haven't seen anyone with boxes or anything all week, though, and there's no way someone just managed to move in within the last 8 hours. 
A beat passes. You can feel the vibrations from the loud music rattling the walls. You frown, and walk over to the wall. You raise a hand and knock loudly, but it's useless. You sigh. There was no way you could relax with this noise.
You turn away from the wall, and pick your phone up in case you need to dial 119 during this confrontation. You make your way out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind you and ignoring how your heart pounds in your ears. You walk to the door next to yours and, after a moment of hesitation, knock loudly. The music stops, and your heartbeat slows. The door remains closed, so you knock again, even harder this time.
After what feels like an eternity, the door finally swings open, revealing a woman you thought you'd never see again.
"Bada?" you question, bewildered.
"Hey," she replies, sounding equally surprised. She's wearing sweatpants and a black tank top, and her hair is in a messy ponytail. You can smell a faint hint of sweat. She's still gorgeous, though.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, trying to hide your shock. 
She looks behind her, as if to verify that she's in the correct place, then turns back around. "This is my apartment," she states, slowly, as if she's speaking to a child requiring stabilization. 
"Since when?" 
She laughs at this, and your heart flutters. "Since I've lived here. Which is a long time, considering this is the second year."
"No, I mean," you pause, searching for the right words. "I haven't seen you around? I mean, you're right next door. There's no way I could've missed you."
Her lips form an 'o' shape, and she nods. "Ah, well, I travel a lot for work so I haven't been home much. I was out of the country for a while."
You nod, "Oh. That makes sense. Well, see ya!"
You turn on your heel and make your way back towards your apartment, embarrassment beginning to flood through your body, when Bada's voice stops you.
"Hey, wait."
You turn around, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
She looks amused. "Are you going to tell me why you came knocking? Or did you just want to see me?"
Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn. "What? No, I'm sorry, I-"
She interrupts you with a laugh. "Relax, I'm joking."
You nod, feeling relieved. You weren't sure why this woman made you feel so incompetent. "Well, it’s the music. It's really loud, and-"
"Oh, shit," she cuts in, her eyes widening. "I'm sorry, I forgot. I'm not used to having neighbors. It's been a while since someone lived next door."
"It's totally fine, it's just...a bit much."
"Gotcha," she replies.
You stare at each other for a few seconds, and you can feel yourself begin to sweat. You clear your throat. "Well, I should probably go now."
She nods, a slight frown on her face. "Okay. See you around."
"See ya," you reply, awkwardly, before walking away.
When you reach your door, you let out a deep breath As annoyed and embarrassed as you were, seeing her again was a bit of a pleasant surprise. She seemed even more beautiful now than she did in the elevator. Your mind wanders back to the sleeveless shirt she had on. The hair bun that gave you a clear view of her neck, her jawline, her collarbones.
You shake the thought from your head and walk into your apartment. You needed to put yourself out there, soon. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a woman’s touch, and now you can barely look at an attractive woman without spiraling into a frenzy. 
You decide to go take a shower and call it an early night, hoping that a session with Rosalia 3000 will ease your mind. 
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You stand behind the counter, boredly wiping down the surfaces. It's a slow day, and Mijoo is off, finally using her vacation days. The cafe is mostly empty, save for a few students studying in the corner. You've already cleaned the entire place twice today, and the clock hasn't even struck 4 o'clock yet. It was days like these that you hated most. As much as you disliked angry customers, having to stand behind the counter doing nothing all day was enough to make you want to claw your eyes out.
You sigh, and lean back against the counter. You check your phone, just in case you missed any messages you’ve been waiting for. When the screen loads, the familiar white background greets you, with no new notifications.
You lock the screen, and stuff the device into the pocket of your apron. You look around the cafe, hoping to find something to occupy your mind. Your eyes land on the display cases of cakes on the far end of the counter, and an idea pops into your head.
You grab a bag of flour, sugar, eggs, milk, and baking powder from the storage room. You mix the ingredients together, and add a few teaspoons of vanilla extract. After about ten minutes, the batter is ready, and you scoop some into a pastry bag. You start to pipe the dough into shapes, filling the space. The familiar motion relaxes you, and you can feel the stress slowly leaving your body. There were only a select few people in the cafe who were permitted to contribute to the array of treats your cafe housed. Unfortunately, you weren’t one of those people, leaving you little time to partake in your passion in between busy shifts and tiring days. You needed this. 
Working quickly, you fill up the space within 30 minutes. After placing the cookies in the backoven, you start cleaning up the counter, throwing away any leftover bits of dough and tossing the used bowls and utensils into the sink. When you finish cleaning the area as best as you can, you turn back around, and your eyes widen as you realize you aren't alone.
Standing before you, his arms crossed, is the man with the ridiculous coffee order from a couple days ago. Yikes. 
"Um," you begin, trying to keep your voice from wavering."Can I help you?"
"I’ve been standing here for two minutes,” he begins, and you can hear the aggravation in his voice. "Do you not know how to do your job?"
"I-"
"So you’re not just a terrible barista, you’re a terrible worker too,” he spits out.“There are barely any people in this cafe and you can’t keep up?”
You clench your jaw, trying to keep the anger bubbling up inside of you at bay. "Sir, I apologize for not noticing you sooner, but I’ll be happy to assist you now."
"Yeah, I’m sure. Where’s your manager?”
Your eye twitches. “He isn’t here right now. I can assure you I’ll be able to help you with anything you need."
"Well do you have a way to contact him? A phone number? Zoom?”
You shake your head. "Sorry, sir. Our manager prefers that we only contact him when he is away if there’s an emergency.”
He releases a maniacal laugh, then immediately straightens his face. “Is this not an emergency? How is this not an emergency when the service in this shop is so fucked that you don’t see a customer standing in plain sight for ten minutes?” 
You blink. “I thought—never mind. Sir, again, I’m terribly sorry. If you’d like, I can give you this drink on the house and—"
He cuts you off. "I don't want a refund. I want better quality of service…”
He drones on, and at this point you tune him out. There was nothing you could do or say to satisfy him. Really, the irony of the situation just made you want to laugh. He was complaining about you wasting his time, and by doing so was wasting even more time. Did this man actually have a job other than being a menace to innocent baristas? Probably not. As you mindlessly watch the man flail his arms in exasperation, you hear the bell above the entrance ring. You’re about to glance over, when the man in front of you slams his palm on the counter, demanding your attention.
"I'm not done yet! I've spent the last fifty six minutes telling you everything you're doing wrong, and you've barely apologized. In fact—"
"I'm sorry, sir, but if you don’t calm down I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” You cut him off, your voice surprisingly steady.
"What?" His mouth hangs open.
You cross your arms. "You are disrupting the environment and harassing me.”
"Harassing?" He repeats, incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? You don’t have the authority to kick me out.”
You roll your eyes. "I'm not kicking you out. You are free to stay and order anything you'd like. If, however, you choose to continue to cause a scene, I'll have no choice but to have you escorted off the premises."
His eyes narrow, and this time he crosses his arms. "Yeah? And who’s gonna escort me?”
Customer service thrown out the window, you open your mouth to call him a prickly little bitch, but are interrupted by the sudden appearance of a hooded figure walking up beside him.
"Leave her alone," a familiar voice states. You look over, and realize the individual you’re looking at is Bada, who towers over the man beside her. 
The man scoffs, and looks her up and down. "Excuse me? Mind your own.”
"This is her cafe, and she has a right to kick you out if you're being disruptive."
"I'm not bothering anyone," the man retorts.
"Well, you’re bothering me. I’ve had to stand here and watch you squeal for the past few minutes and quite frankly it's starting to piss me off. If you don’t leave, I'll escort you out myself."
The man opens his mouth, presumably to spit some more venom, but the sight of Bada's clenched fists and murderous glare causes him to snap his mouth shut. He glares at the two of you for a moment, before turning on his heel and stalking off.
Both of you watch him leave. As the door closes behind him, you witness the door swing shut with surprising speed, smacking into Mr. Grumpington's rear end just as he reaches the threshold. Stumbling forward with a startled yelp, his briefcase flies out of his grasp, scattering papers across the sidewalk. 
Your hand flings up, over your mouth as you observe him stand slowly, his knees wobbling. A woman and her child pass by him with bewildered expressions, and you repress your laughter. Once he gathers himself, he shoots a withering glare in the direction of the café, and storms off. 
Old man finally gone, Bada turns back to you, her expression soft. "Sorry. I know I probably overstepped, but I saw the whole thing and I was worried he was going to hurt you.”
You sober up and shake your head, smiling slightly. "No, it's okay. He was being an asshole and I didn't know what to do with him. I'm glad you were here."
Bada returns your smile, and you're once again taken aback by her. “Anytime."
"I have cookies, if you'd like some," you offer, suddenly remembering the sweets baking in the oven. "On the house, for the trouble."
Bada's eyes light up. "I'd love some! And an iced latte, please.”
You nod. "Sure. Have a seat and I'll bring it out."
Bada takes a seat in a booth in the corner, and pulls out a laptop. As the coffee brews, you glance at her as she types and reads something on the screen, her expression concentrated. She purses her lips as as she focuses on whatever she’s looking at, and you find yourself staring.
She looks up, catching your eye. You blush, and spin around to face the display case, pretending to wipe it down. You grab the iced latte and a plate of cookies, and walk over to Bada.
"Thanks!" she says, smiling, and grabs a cookie. She takes a bite and hums in satisfaction.  
"Good, right?" you question, a smile tugging at your lips.
"So good!" she affirms, her cheeks full of the pastry. 
You break into a wide grin that you’re not sure is because of the woman’s cuteness, or the pride blooming in your chest. "Thanks. I made them." 
She raises her eyebrows. "Wait, really? Woah. I'm impressed."
Playing nonchalant, you shrug. "It's whatever."
She laughs. "It's not whatever! These would sell out in seconds if you displayed them in here," she remarks, grabbing another one. 
You're reminded of the call you're still waiting on, and try to dispel the anxiousness growing inside you. That’s the plan, just not here. You decide not to bring that up, though. You dont wanting to put a damper her spirits with your oversharing.
But you're not tired of hearing her praises. "You think?" 
"Definitely,” she confirms. "I'll come by every day to buy a dozen.”
"I'll hold you to it."
"Please do," she responds, and you swear you detect a hint of flirtation in her voice. Before you can retort, a notification pops up on her computer, and her eyes dart down. She sighs. 
"Everything alright?" you ask.
She nods, but her brows are furrowed. "Yeah. I'm just stressed. My job has been keeping me super busy lately."
You nod, and hesitate before asking, "If you don't mind me asking, what do you do?"
"Oh," she answers, her face clearing up. "I'm a dancer. And I choreograph for kpop groups."
Your eyes widen. "Whoa. That's cool."
"Thanks," she responds. She pauses for a moment, and she looks like she wants to say more. "It is, but...I don't know, sometimes these companies get on my nerves." She says with a tired laugh. 
You're a bit surprised by her confession, and the dejected look on her face makes your heart hurt. "What do you mean?"
She shrugs. "They're never quite satisfied with what we do and it sucks, you know? The only time I have fun is when I'm working with a company that doesn't treat their artists like shit."
You frown. "Yeah, I can't even begin to imagine how frustrating that is. I'm sorry." 
She smiles, looking sheepish. "No, I'm sorry for venting. It's been a long week."
You shake your head. "Don't apologize. You're saving me from having to clean the counter for the nth time today."
She smirks. "I thought the jerk from earlier was already doing that?"
"Oh god, please don't bring him up again." You groan, and she giggles in a way that makes your chest warm.
"Don't worry. He won't bother you anymore. I scared him away," she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
You laugh, and a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. You're about to ask her another question when you hear the bell on the door chime. You look over, and see a group of college students walking in. Your stomach drops. 
"Guess it's time for me to actually do my job,” you mutter. 
She nods. "What time do you get off? Maybe we could talk more after you're done? Walk home together?"
Walk home together? You should’ve put on a better perfume today. "Sure, but I'm gonna be here for another couple hours."
She slaps her hands together. “That’s actually perfect. I have a bunch of videos to review anyway. I'll be here." She gives you a small wave, and returns to her laptop. You walk away, unable to contain your grin.
And she is there. As the night drags on, as the rush comes in and finally calms, as the clock strikes 8, and as you close the doors.
You turn the keys, locking the door. You turn around, and she's there, waiting for you, laptop in hand.  She kicks a rock and it skitters away, hitting a lamppost. When she notices you watching, she offers a shy smile.
"Ready to go?" she asks.
"Sure am," You respond, and the two of you start heading down the street. 
The air is warm and the night sky is clear, the stars twinkling brightly. You glance over at her, and admire the way the streep lamps lights up her face. Her eyes are focused ahead, and you stare at her profile. She notices you staring, and turns her head, smiling softly.
"What's up?" she questions.
You shake your head and face forward, wanting to crawl in a hole at your slip-up. "Nothing." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. This is silly. You've seen this woman plenty of times recently. Hell, you were just in the cafe together not even fifteen ago. But now, walking side-by-side with her, the air between you heavy, you can't help but feel a need to impress her. The idea that you could possibly have a friendship (or more?) with her makes your heart soar. It's silly, and maybe a bit childish, but you're not one to let a good feeling pass by. So, you take a chance, wanting to make this work. 
"So, I don't know much about you, but I'd love to," you begin, and her gaze darts towards you. "Tell me about yourself. You said you were a dancer, right?"
"Oh, yeah." She nods. "I started dancing when I was a kid. It was fun, but I didn't start taking it seriously until I was older. I started out doing covers, and eventually landed an audition with a company. That's how I got my foot in the door, and then I kept climbing and now I'm here."
"That's amazing," you tell her. "I'm guessing it's a lot of hard work?"
She nods. "Definitely. It's rewarding, though."
You want to know more, so you ask her more questions, and you follow into comfortable chatter as she tells you all about her life. She asks you a few questions too, some of which you avoid, like why you moved here, or why you're working at the cafe that you obviously dislike. But, overall, the conversation flows easily, and before you know it, the two of you are standing in front of your apartment building.
As the two of you approach the lobby, Bada speaks. "We should do this more often."
"Which part? Walking home together, or me talking your ear off about the ending of Twenty-Five Twenty-One?"
"Mostly the first part. Although I didn't mind hearing you talk about that kdrama. The lead actress is really hot."
You snort, and she follows suit. "You know, I'm glad you came into the cafe today," you confess.
"Me too." She responds, and the two of you stop in front of your door. You're unsure of what to say next, but Bada steps forward, and you tense. Was this really happening?
But then she's inching away, her hands tucked into her pockets. You relax, and ignore the slight disappointment built up in your chest. Duh, you think, shaking your head. What were you expecting?
"Well, have a good night." You say, offering her a small smile.
"You too," she says. "I'll see you soon."
She waves, and you watch her go, before unlocking the door and walking into the apartment. You close your door behind you, and lean against it, releasing a breath.
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Over the next week, you see Bada in passing in the hallway multiple times. Each time she sees you, she stops and says hi, and you talk for a bit. She stops by the cafe a few times too, although she hasn't been able to walk home with you again yet, having a late-night schedule nearly everyday.
But each encounter makes your heart race, and by the end of the week, you feel like your chest might explode. You're not sure the attraction is reciprocated, but even if it is, would she actually be interested in someone like you? Someone who had to deal with a shitty customer service job, was running increasingly low on money, had a terrible sleep schedule, and was depending on one call to determine whether or not this move was a mistake? Probably not. The videos you've been watching for the past hour have made that evident. 
Curiosity got the best of you, and you finally looked up Bada about an hour ago. It didn't take long for her to pop up. A ton of information about her was available, from her birthday, to her favorite food, to her shoe size. You mostly ignored that stuff, opting to watch her choreography videos instead. A horrible mistake. She was undeniably talented and captivating, and watching her perform made you feel a million things all at once, the most powerful being desire, much to your dismay. Why was that woman always humping the floor? 
After watching the last video, which was a choreography of a popular girl group's song, you shut your computer and lean back on the couch. You stare at the wall separating your apartment from hers, wondering  what she's doing right now. Is she getting ready for bed? Did she have a busy day? Is she thinking of you, like how you're thinking of her? Doubtful, but the thought makes your stomach flip. 
A notification from your phone interrupts your pity party. You assume it's a notification about a delivery you have coming, but you're surprised to see a text from one of your hometown friends. 
Jasmine: heyyy how is everything going over there!
Jasmine: opened up your dream bakery yet?
Not this. You really, really do not want to get into this right now, especially with your friends and family from home, who had high expectations for you. But they were your friends, and you didn't want to keep them in the dark. You take a deep breath, and respond.
y/n: almost. just working at a cafe while I'm getting everything settled.
You wait a few minutes, but she doesn't respond. You sigh. Another thing you miss from home—texting your friends in real time. It would have been nice to be able to vent.
You're about to stand up when you get a response.
Jasmine: oh okay! just be careful not to fall into the same trap you were in here. I don't want you working yourself to death :(
y/n: i won't.
Jasmine: good.
Jasmine: anyway, met anybody cute out there yet?
You stare at the screen, and you can't help but smile.
y/n: yes.
Jasmine: OMG!!!
Jasmine: details plz!
You laugh.
y/n: it's none of your business, lol.
Jasmine: come ooooon y/n!
y/n: nope! I don't want to jinx anything
Jasmine: fine. just keep me updated.
You're about to respond, but a knock at your front door startles you. You set your phone down, and walk over to the door, looking through the peephole, and speak of the devil: It's Bada.
You quickly comb a hand through your hair and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you open the door, trying not to look flustered.
"Hey!" you greet.
"Hi." She responds, and you immediately recognize that something is decidedly off. She looks tense. Her brows are furrowed, and she’s avoiding eye contact, shifting her weight from side to side awkwardly. You see her clutching something behind her back, but cannot make out what it is. 
"Um, are you okay?" you ask hesitantly, half-ready to grab the (tall and grown) woman to pull her inside your apartment to protect her from potential imminent dangers.
"Yeah. I just-um. I think your package was delivered to the wrong address?" She pulls her arm from behind her back, and hands you a large box with it flipped to the bottom. "Sorry."
"Oh!" you take the package, are immediately met with the recipient name printed in bold font that is, of course, addressed to you. "Thank you. Sorry about that."
"No worries." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I'll, uh, see you around."
"Yeah, definitely."
She walks away, and you're left standing in the doorway, a bit confused. That was...weird. You step back inside, shutting the door. You set the package down on the coffee table, and just as you are about to rip it open, you make eye contact with the imagery on the front of the package. 
Your eyes widen. Oh no. How could you have forgotten?
There, plastered across the front of the box, was a clear picture of a very suggestive toy. You read the words below the image.
"Battery-Operated Love: Your Guide To The Best Vibrators, Toys, and Dildos!"
You stare. You blink. You look around, as if someone is playing a prank on you. You stare some more. 
Then, you hurriedly reach for the throw pillow sitting next to you on the couch, and scream into it.
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You sigh, tapping your foot against the floor to the rhythm of humming washers. It's early morning, the sun barely peeking out, and you're currently in the laundry room in your building, waiting for your clothes to dry.
It's been a few days since your package fiasco, and Bada hasn't made another appearance. You'd say she's trying to avoid you, but in reality, you’re the one going out of your way to steer clear of her potential judgments. You've even taken to staying in late, leaving the apartment only to go to work, where you've adjusted your schedule to further avoid the woman in case she tried to stop by. You acknowledge the fact that you're probably overreacting. It wasn't that big of a deal. You're a grown woman with needs! And you weren't going to let those needs fester when you had such an accessible way of gratifying them. You couldn't let the hard work that ancient physicians put into developing such helpful products go to waste. You love to support small businesses!
Although, you weren’t a big fan of the one you ordered from this time. So much for "discreet packaging.”
You stand up, deciding to grab a drink from the vending machine outside to cool your nerves. You reach the lobby, and walk towards the corner, where the row of machines are lined up in front of windows that belong to the gym. You insert your coins, press a few buttons, and wait for your drink. The vending machine is old, and the whirring and clanging of the dispensing mechanism are loud, so it takes longer than usual.
You glance around as you wait, and your eyes finally settle on the windows. You squint, noticing a familiar silhouette performing a series of exercises.
Bada is inside, doing pull-ups. Her back is to you, and her hair is pulled into a ponytail. She's wearing a loose t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and shorts. Sweat drips from her forehead and down her back, and the muscles in her arms flex and move with each lift.
You feel your throat dry up. The machine spits out the can, and you grab it. You hesitate for a moment, and then step forward, pushing open the glass door leading into the gym as if you were moving on autopilot. You don't know what you're doing.
"Hey!" you greet.
She turns around, eyes wide, and lowers herself onto the ground. "Hi."
"How are you?" you ask.
"Good! Just finishing up my workout," she answers, reaching for the towel draped on a bench beside her.
"Cool," you answer, trying not to focus on the way her chest heaves as she catches her breath.
"What about you? Haven't seen you around lately," she says, wiping the sweat from her neck.
"I've been busy," you lie, weakly holding up your can. "Just got something from the vending machine while I'm waiting for my laundry. Probably gonna head out and run some errands after this.”
"Ah, okay." She nods, and reaches for a water bottle. You watch her tilt her head back, gulping down the liquid, her Adam's apple bobbing as she swallows. Your eyes travel to her neck, and her collarbone, which is exposed, and the droplets of sweat that rest on her skin. You watch her throat move, and suddenly, your mind is filled with images of her lips trailing down your neck, nipping at your throat, and you're overcome with desire. 
You swallow, then continue rambling, trying to rid yourself of your debauched thinking. "Yup, heading over to Itaewon with a friend tonight. Probably won't be back home until tomorrow morning!" you say with the projection of a teenage boy who had his first drink yesterday. You weren't lying this time, though. After the incident, you were humbled into a state of reflection. You wanted to try putting yourself out there, and potentially find gratification beyond something that was battery-powered. Mijoo was ecstatic to hear this, and immediately sent you a list of clubs she and her friends frequented. 
"Sounds fun." She takes another sip, and sets the bottle down. "Hope you have a good time. Actually, do you have time to do me a favor before you get back to your laundry?"
"What kind of favor?" you ask, a bit suspicious.
"Can you spot me?" she asks, and you're confused for a moment. She gestures towards a padded spot on the floor. "I was gonna do some more reps, and I’d really appreciate it if you could help me—um—make sure my form was right. f you don't have time, that's fine, I can ask someone else."
"No!" you answer. She jerks her head back in confusion, and you flush at your stumble. "No, I have time. I can spot you."
"Awesome! Thanks so much," she says with her signature heartwarming grin. "I'll just do a couple of sets. It shouldn't take too long.”
”I should warn you that I don’t know anything about weightlifting. Or strength exercises. Or cardio—”
"Not a problem. I’ll just do sit-ups." She reassures as she sits on the floor, and lies down.
“Oh. Okay,” you felt like you were in grade school. "Are we counting or not counting?"
"Um, counting would be helpful," she says.
You nod, and kneel beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. You feel her tense for a second, but are quickly distracted trying not to focus on the way the damp fabric of her shirt sticks to her skin. "Okay. Ready when you are."
You count, and with each sit-up, the muscles in her arms flex, her jaw tightens, and her breathing becomes labored. You're in such close proximity to her, her arm brushes against yours every time she goes down. The heat radiating from her body is palpable, and you feel yourself begin to sweat, the air becoming hot.
When she's finished, she falls back onto the mat, and you release the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. She gets up, and wipes the sweat from her forehead.
"Well, that was fun," she says, standing up to grab her stuff. 
"Yeah, it sure was," you murmer, trying to hide the fact that you're completely out of breath despite doing nothing but count. You stand up, and follow her out the door. "See you later, Bada."
Bada waves, looking you over once more in a manner that makes your insides twist, before turning around a speed-walking toward the elevators. 
You take a minute to breathe and head back into the laundry room, where your clothes are ready. Instead of grabbing them, you collapse into one of the cheap folding chairs in the corner of the room. Your clothes are probably tinier at this point, but you can't bring yourself to move. Why did you even walk in there in the first place? You knew well that you weren’t capable of acting normal in front of that woman.
You remind yourself of your plans with Mijoo tonight. A club. In the city. With pretty people. Where alcohol was served.
You take a deep breath, and stand up, taking your clothes and throwing them in your basket.
You'd be fine. 
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An ear-splitting wail from the girl next to you almost makes you drop your drink.
"I CAN'T DO THIS SHIT ANYMORE!" the woman screeches, and Mijoo, who is currently attempting to console her, rolls her eyes.
"Honey, please, don't make a scene."
"But it's true! I'm a loser, and I'm going to die alone! I might as well stop trying!”
"No, you're not, just stop drinking," Mijoo responds, her voice a few octaves higher in annoyance. She glances at you, and rolls her eyes.
The two of you are at the gay bar in Itaewon, and after an hour and a half, it seems that the night is coming to an end. Mijoo's friend, Naeun, had a mental breakdown after spotting her ex-girlfriend making out with the woman she told her not to worry about. After that, the mood was completely killed. Naeun feigned nonchalance at first.That relationship was seven months ago, she said. I’ve moved on, she said. I’ve had better, she said. it was almost convincing, until you saw her gulp down three shots at a pace you did not know was humanly possible.
And now…
"It's like, you don't listen to anything I say," Naeun sniffles, and you genuinely feel bad for her. You give her a gentle pat on the back, and she turns to hug you.
"I know, I'm a horrible friend or whatever. Let's just go home and eat ice cream or something," Mijoo sighs, and the two of you help Naeun stand.
"Yes. Thank you. You guys are the best," she whimpers. "I don't deserve you."
"Yes, you do," Mijoo assures.
"Yeah, it's all good," you chime in. "Let's just get you home. I think you've had enough alcohol for the next week. Or year."
You and Mijoo drag her out of the bar and into the streets of Itaewon. It's dark, and the neon lights illuminate the sidewalks, where drunk patrons stumble through. You're a little buzzed, and Naeun's deadweight is difficult to carry. Somehow, you manage to get her onto the subway, and inside your building, which is closest. When you reach your front door, you can't help but glance over at Bada's apartment, and are surprised to see a light peeking through the crack between the door and the frame.
"You live here?" Naeun slurs, and you nod, opening the door and dragging her in.
"We'll put her on the couch. Do you mind if we stay over?" Mijoo suggests.
"Not at all," you agree, and the two of you set her down. She groans, and closes her eyes, stretching across your couch in a starfish position. Her dress has risen all the way up to her stomach, but she doesn’t seem to care, You grimace at the sight. "Poor thing."
"She'll be fine," Mijoo says, waving her off. "Come on, I’m starving,"
You follow her into your kitchen and lean against the counter as she reaches into your fridge to pours herself a drink. So much for ice cream. 
"Sorry our plans fell through," she apologizes, and you shrug.
"It's not a big deal. Shit happens. Besides, I had fun even though we were only out for, like, five seconds," you answer.
She takes a sip of the liquid in her cup. “We can try again next week? I'll make sure that Naeun is mentally stable next time."
"I don’t know. That doesn’t sound as fun,” you joke, and she grins.
"You’re so right,” she pauses as she opens your fridge back up, and gasps. "Ooh, y/n, can I have one of these?"
"One of what?" you ask, peering over her shoulder, only to find her holding cupcake that you'd made earlier. "Oh, yeah, sure. Go ahead."
She rips off the wrapper, and takes a bite, moaning. "Wow, this is—"
A loud thump sounds from the other side of the wall, and the two of you turn your heads, eyes wide.
"Is that your neighbor?" Mijoo whispers, and the two of you stand still, listening intently. There are a few more thumps, and then a sharp gasp.
"I think she's fucking someone," Mijoo whispers, and then a moan sounds from the other side, followed by a string of curse words, and the bed frame slams against the wall, a rhythmic knocking echoing throughout the apartment.
Naeun sits up from where she's sitting on the couch, and mechanically states, "I need to call her."
"Don't you dare," Mijoo growls, aggressively pointing a finger at the pitiful girl. Naeun whines, and collapses back onto the couch, and you continue to stare at the wall with wide eyes. This couldn't be happening.
You're quiet, listening to the creeks of the bed, the groans, the panting, the curses, and, despite the situation, you can’t help but feel…curious. You’d usually be irked by this situation, reminded of the particularly horrific nights you’d have when you lived with a roommate in your younger years. As made evident by the fluttering in your stomach (and in other parts of your body) you, this was not that. Not even close. 
Mijoo laughs. "Oh my god, does this usually happen?"
You snap out of your stupor. "Uh, no, actually. She's usually pretty quiet."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And besides, she's sweet, so it's kind of weird hearing this, but, uh, it's whatever," you reply, attempting to ignore a squeal that vaguely resembles Bada's name.
The bed's movements pick up speed, and the sounds become louder.
"Oh my god," Mijoo murmurs, covering her ears. Naeun starts crying again.
"She's gonna fuck her to death," Naeun sobs, and then the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter. You walk over to the living room, and pat her on the back.
"Come on, let's get you to sleep," you say, helping her up. "You can have the bed. Mijoo and I will take the couch."
"Thank you, I love you both so much," she blubbers, and you drag her into the bedroom, tucking her into the bed.
"We're gonna stay in the living room, so holler if you need us, okay?" you tell her, and she nods.
"I love you guys," she slurs, and then passes out, mouth wide open. 
"She’s so dramatic," Mijoo cackles as you close the door. 
You and Mijoo get ready to go to sleep, and soon enough the obscene noises from next door are gone. But, as you fall asleep on the couch, they still ring in your head.
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"I'm so sorry for the way I acted last night." Naeun apologizes, a pout on her face. You wave her off. “Don't worry, you're good. At least you gave us some entertainment while you were at it. Are you okay, though?"
She shrugs, adjusting the duffle bag on her shoulder. "Yeah. I mean, it was a pretty big blow, but I'll get over it. She's not worth the tears."
"Atta girl," Mijoo cooes, patting Naeun's head. She turns to you, and smiles. "Thanks for letting us stay over, y/n."
You open your front door, and wave. "Yeah, of course. I'll see you guys later."
Just as the two girls step out, the door to the apartment next to yours opens. You all look to the side, and notice a disheveled woman with blonde hair and bright red lipstick exiting into the hallway. You and Mijoo exchange glances as the woman's eyes meet yours. She gives a small, awkward smile when she notices the three of you, and then bows before hurrying down the hallway.
"Was that your neighbor?" Mijoo asks, and you shake your head. 
The actual neighbor in question steps into the hallway, and the three of you watch her with wide eyes. She's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, long hair cascading down her back. 
Bewildered by your stares, she looks at the three of you with confusion.
"Hello," she greets, bowing, and the three of you bow back. "How are you?"
Naeun's eyes become the size of saucers. "Y-you're Bad—"
"Good!" Mijoo interrupts, and gives a wide, forced smile. "We're all doing well."
"That's good," Bada replies, giving a polite nod. She looks at you, and the corners of her lips quirk upwards. "Hi, y/n. Nice seeing you."
After last night’s noises, her politeness makes you want to laugh. or scream. or cry. You return the smile, gripping your doorknob until your knuckles turn white. "Yeah, nice seeing you, too."
She turns her attention back to the other two, waves, then walks off.
Mijoo and Naeun immediately whip around to face you.
"Your neighbor is Bada Lee?!" Naeun screeches.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Mijoo yells, and you step back.
"Bye guys!" you say, closing the door on the two of them.
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Shortly before closing, the bell rings.
"Hello!" you chirp. "Welcome to—oh, hello!"
"Hey, y/n." Bada waves.
"Hey," you say, even though the two of you already said hello. "How are you?"
"Good, and you?"
"Great, thanks," she responds, staying put in front of the door. "Uh, I actually came here to, um, ask if you wanted to walk home together? I was just passing by, and I thought maybe we could just, like, walk back. At the same time. Since we both have to, um, go there. To our respective homes. I know it's been a while, but I thought it'd be fun. I-if you want some company, I mean. Sorry, I'll leave if you want me to, I'm just—"
"Bada," you interrupt, and she looks up, her eyes meeting yours. "I'd love to."
She blinks. "You would?"
The look of surprise on her face almost startles you back into hesitation. Why wouldn’t you want to spend time with the woman? Even with all the moments you’ve wanted to bury yourself in a hole because of your embarrassment, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever say no. 
Untying your apron from around your waist, you nod. "Yeah! Just give me a second to grab my stuff."
"Okay." She grins. "Thanks."
You pick up your belongings, clock out, and the two of you stepping outside. You lock the doors, and begin to walk towards your building. 
"So, how was your night yesterday?" Bada asks, and you almost trip at the reminder of yesterday’s events. 
"Uh, it was fine," you reply, clearing your throat. "What about yours?"
"Oh, it was, um, good." She nods.
I’m sure it was, you think. You look at the ground, biting the inside of your cheek. "That's good."
The two of you walk in silence, and now you feel awkward. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. The only sounds surrounding you are of the rustling of the trees, and the occasional passing car.
"Was that your girlfriend?" she suddenly blurts out, and you whip your head around to look at her.
"Huh?"
"Last night, when I ran into the three of you in the hallway. Were one of those girls your girlfriend? Or…”
"No, neither of them," you reply, shaking your head. "One of them is Mijoo, the coworker I told you about, and her friend, Naeun. They came over after we went to a bar."
"Ah." She nods, looking at the sidewalk, and your eyes narrow. You swear you see a small smile on her face. 
"What about your girl?" you ask, and her head shoots up.
"My girl?"
"Yeah. Was the girl that was over last night your girlfriend?"
"Oh, no, no, she wasn't," she quickly answers.
"Hm," you hum. And then, your next words spill from your mouth before you can even process them. "I would've thought so with all of the…screaming that was going on."
"W-what?" she stammers, freezing in her tracks.
"Uh," you say, stopping as well. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."
"Did you hear...us?" she asks, her voice quiet, and you can't bear to look at her. Why did you speak up? You didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. Or worse, think of you as a creep for listening in. 
"Yes," you murmur, and she lets out a groan, her face turning a shade of pink.
"I am so, so sorry. I thought you were gone. Oh my god, that is so embarrassing." She buries her face in her hands, and despite your previous regrets, you bite your lip to suppress a giggle. Her reaction was too cute. 
"It's okay, really," you assure, and she drops her hands, still refusing to look at you. You smile, and continue walking. "Don't worry about it."
"But that's so embarrassing," she whines, and you laugh again. 
"You were clearly having a good time."
"Yeah, but I didn't want you to hear," she sighs, and you pat her back.
"Well, at least we're even now."
"What do you mean?" she asks, puzzled.
Uh oh. She probably already forgot about the delivery situation, and you just brought it up for no reason. What the fuck was up with you right now? You were just saying anything. 
"Oh, nevermind. Forget about it," you respond, waving her off.
"What was it, though? I haven't heard you…uh…do anything before," she protests, and you shrug, trying to brush her off.
"Nope! Forget about it! I confused you with someone else," you rush out, picking up your pace as you make eye contact with your building.
"You have another neighbor that could’ve potentially heard you having sex?" she replies, clearly confused, as she jogs slightly to catch up.
"No idea!" you sing, and open the door, stepping into the lobby.
"This makes no sense. Now I’m not gonna stop asking," she tells you, and you can't help but laugh. 
"And I'm not going to stop avoiding the question."
"Y/n!"
You enter the elevator, and press the button to the 8th floor, watching her enter. You give a polite smile, and she sighs, giving up.
"Fine," she finishes with a pout. 
The elevator goes up, and the two of you stand in comfortable silence. You don't know if it's because of the woman's earlier embarrassment, but something about tonight definitely has you feeling a little bold and ready to tease. 
"Hey," you pipe up, and she looks over at you. "You guys were pretty loud."
"Shut up," she grumbles, and you can't help but smirk, watching her glare at the floor.
"My friends almost called the police. It sounded like you were committing murder."
"What?" she exclaims, and then groans. "Oh my god, don't."
"And I almost let them. I was like, woah. I knew this woman couldn't be entirely perfect and had to be keeping some sort of deep, dark, secret. But a serial killer? I would've never thought. Turns out you just had a serial moaner in there, I guess."
"Please stop."
"I mean, what were you doing to that poor girl. I—"
"At this point, it just seems like you're trying to get details out of me," she interjects.
"W-what?" you squeak, and she smiles, turning to look at you, suddenly cool and collected. 
She shrugs. "You keep bringing it up."
You scoff. How dare she accuse you of such a thing! All of the thirst comments under her posts must have gotten to her head.
"You're ridiculous," you retort.
"Am I wrong, though?" she counters, and you stare at her with wide eyes.
"No," you reply quickly, and then you mentally facepalm, realizing what you said. "I mean yes. You're wrong."
"Right," she chuckles, and the elevator dings, the doors opening. "I have a question for you."
"Yeah, sure, what is it?" you ask, stepping out into the hallway.
She bites her lip, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. "Have you had the chance to use your Satisfyer Pro yet?"
Your jaw drops, aghast. "Wh-what? What the fu—"
"Goodnight, y/n," she grins, snickering as she runs inside her apartment like a little goblin, leaving you to watch her with a mixture of disbelief and irritation.
You can't help but let out a huff of laughter as you enter your own apartment.
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You're sitting in bed with a slice of cake on your lap, blanket tossed to the side due to the hot weather, binge-watching a new series. You contemplate checking your email for a message from that landlord, but decide against it, not wanting to put a damper on your decent mood. Instead, you tune in to another episode of a k-drama, in which the protagonist dies for a second time. Supposedly, it's for real this time. 
You're about to finish the slice when there's a knock at the door. You frown, pausing the episode. You stand up, place the plate on the dresser, then walk towards the front door, peering through the peephole. Your heart begins to beat faster when you see a certain woman standing outside your apartment. 
"What's up?" you greet, swinging the door open.
"Hey," she says, a soft smile on her face. She's wearing a pair of loose shorts and a white t-shirt, hair in a bun. Sweat glistens on her forehead, and her cheeks are flushed. You can't help but note how good she looks, despite looking rumpled. 
"Hi," you respond, returning the smile. "What's going on?" you ask, leaning against the doorframe.
"So, uh, my air conditioning broke," she begins. "And I was wondering if I could hang out in your apartment for a bit? The maintenance people said they aren't going to be able to get here until tomorrow. Apparently they don't work on Sundays."
You've suddenly become aware of the fact that Bada has never been inside your apartment. The idea of her being inside the same room as you, sitting on your furniture, breathing in the scent of your home, sends a wave of heat down your spine. Maybe it was best to reject her offer and suggest another solution.
"Come on in!" you say, and open the door.
"Thank you," she breathes out, walking in, and your eyes rake over her figure as she passes by you. 
She looks around, taking in the sight of your apartment. You notice her eyes linger on some of your old pictures from your hometown.
"Your apartment is really nice," she tells you, and you feel a rush of pride.
"Thank you! Feel free to take a seat wherever," you reply, gesturing towards the couch, and she sits, throwing her head back as she lets out a sigh of relief.
"You're a lifesaver," she declares, and you plop down next to her.
"What happened?" you ask, and she shakes her head.
”I wish I knew. I went to turn on my AC and it just, didn’t come on. Completely out of the blue.”
"That sucks," you respond, and she nods, a grim expression on her face.
"So," she begins, turning her head towards you. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," you answer, and then remember the slice of cake on the dresser. You point to it. "Would you like some?"
"Yes, please," she says, nodding fervently. "Water would be great, too, if you don't mind."
Grateful to put some distance between the two of you, you practically bounce out of your seat. "Coming right up!"
You return with two glasses of water and your cake. She thanks you, and you hand her a fork, taking one for yourself.
"This is really good, y/n. Did you make this too?" she praises, and you nod.
"I did. Thanks," you reply, taking a bite.
"You really need to give me the recipe for these things. Or start selling them! I'd buy them all," she compliments, and you blush, waving her off.
You stare at the ground for a moment, before laughing bitterly. "That was supposed to be the goal, I guess.”
She furrows her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
You inhale slowly, prepping yourself. You hated this. But maybe you needed this. "I used to have my own bakery. In my hometown That's actually where I moved from. But then my landlord jacked the rent up and I couldn't afford it, and I was forced to close," you explain.
"Oh." She frowns. "That's awful. What a jerk."
"Tell me about it," you mumble, carelessly dropping your fork on the table.
"Are you looking for another place here?" she asks, and you nod.
"Yeah. There's a lot of great spots in Seoul, but there's one building in particular that I've had my eye on. It's not far from the Han River, and the rent is relatively cheap, and it's got everything I could possibly need. I'm just waiting to hear back from the that landlord. We were negotiating and things were going pretty well. But now its been months. I haven't heard from him since I moved here."
You blink back tears, and clear your throat, picking up the fork again. Whenever you think of everything that's happened to you recently, you cannot help but feel like an utter failure. You worked hard, finally achieved success, only for things to all fall apart. It seemed as if all of your efforts were for nothing.
"Hey," she whispers, and her voice is soft, calming. "It's gonna be okay."
She gently squeezes your arm, and her touch is warm. You look at her, and the tenderness in her eyes is enough to make you want to cry more. 
"I know. It's just hard, sometimes," you confess, and her hand remains on your arm.
"I get that, but I can promise you that what you're going through is temporary. I can't tell you how many times I thought I was done for good when I first started out, but now, I've come this far. If you keep your head up, and just keep working hard, you'll make it. You’ve done it before.”
Her words resonate with you, and her unwavering support fills you with hope. "Thanks, Bada," you respond, smiling.
"Of course," she responds, her eyes never leaving yours. "I'm here for you."
"I'm here for you too," you whisper.
A moment of silence passes, and your eyes travel to her hand. Her skin is smooth, and her fingers are long and slender. You wonder what they'd feel like intertwined with yours.
"Um, I’ve been meaning to ask," she says, interrupting your thoughts, and your eyes meet hers again. "Any new dramas you wanted to tell me about? Or, what about the one with that married couple you talked about?”
You almost laugh at her obvious attempt to distract you from your depressing thoughts.
"Pretty good," you reply, and she gives you a pointed look.
"And by pretty good, you mean..."
"Amazing, wonderful, mind-blowing, spectacular," you continue, and she nods, satisfied. "I was actually watching it before you knocked on the door."
"Ooh, really?" she responds, eyes widening.
"Yeah. Would you like to watch it together?" you suggest, and she grins.
"Yes, please."
"Okay," you giggle, and grab the remote, pressing play.
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Halfway through the episode, you decide to move to your bedroom (because the AC works better in there, of course!). Somehow, while lying on the bed, your legs become intertwined. She's sprawled out, and her head is resting in the crook of your neck, her soft hair tickling your face. 
You can feel her steady breathing, and the heat radiating off her body, and all of your senses are filled with her. You're so focused on her that you can't even focus on the episode.
"Y/n?" she murmurs, and her voice is low, quiet.
"Yeah?" you reply, voice equally as soft.
"Would it be weird if I said that I'm glad my air conditioner broke?"
You snort, and her body shakes with silent laughter. "Not at all."
You pause the show, and sit up. She does the same, and her eyes are shining.
"Do you want anything to eat? I've got chips, and some ice cream," you offer, and she bites her lip.
"Not really. Thanks, though," she responds, and your eyes travel to her lips. They're plump and pink, and you're tempted to reach out and kiss her.
"Okay, no problem," you say, and her gaze is intense, burning.
"Thanks for letting me come over. I appreciate it."
"Of course," you murmur, and then clear your throat. "Anytime."
"Really?"
"Yeah! You can even stay the night, if you want. I don't mind," you respond, and her eyebrows raise, lips curling upwards.
"Okay," she answers, and leans forward, cupping your face in her hands.
The action surprises you, and you let out a gasp. She pauses, eyes searching yours, and you nod, giving her permission.
She leans forward, and you close your eyes, waiting for her to press her lips against yours. Instead, you feel a pair of lips softly kissing your forehead, and your cheeks, and your jaw, and your nose, and then they finally, finally press against yours.
The kiss is gentle and sweet, and when she pulls away, her eyes are filled with affection.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," she admits, and you chuckle.
"Me too," you whisper, and her smile grows wider.
She moves closer to you, and you wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Her body is soft, and her skin is smooth, and you can feel her warmth seeping into your skin.
"I really like you, y/n," she whispers, and you tighten your hold on her.
"I really like you too, Bada," you respond, and she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck. You're in heaven.
"Thank god. I was afraid I was making a fool out of myself," she confesses, and you giggle.
"What? Oh my god. Not at all," you assure her, and she pulls away, a smirk on her face.
"So, I was right about you wanting details?"
"Oh fuck you," you mutter, pulling her back into a significantly more aggressive kiss. A surprised noise escapes her lips, but she eventually melts into it, moving against you with equal fervor. Her hands run up and down your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, and you're so caught up in the sensation that you don't even realize when she starts straddling you until she presses her body against yours in a way that has you gasping.
Your hands travel underneath her shirt, feeling the smoothness of her warm skin, the lines of her stomach, the swell of her breasts, and the curves of her waist. She groans into the kiss before slipping her tongue into your mouth, causing heat to pool in the pit of your stomach.
When you pull away, she's panting, and her lips are swollen. Her hair is slightly mussed, and her pupils are dilated, her eyes filled with desire. Without words, you both begin removing each other's clothes, tossing them to the side. She's left in only a black bra and boxers, and you have to remind yourself to move.
She chuckles, and you stare at her chest. You can see the outline of her nipples, and you reach out, brushing a thumb against them, and she bites her lip, closing her eyes. You can feel her heart beating rapidly, and you trace circles around her nipples, and she lets out a shaky breath.
"Please," she begs, and you smile, pulling her into another kiss.
Your hands move lower, caressing the skin of her thighs, and then you're cupping her center, and she gasps, pulling away.
"Y/n," she pants, and the sound of her moaning your name sends another rush of heat down your spine.
"Bada," you breathe out, and press kisses against her jawline, and down her neck, and collarbone, and chest. Your hand is still between her thighs, and she bucks her hips, trying to find friction.
"Y/n, please," she repeats, and the desperation in her voice is so fucking hot.
You slip a finger inside her, and you feel her walls immediately clench, followed by a whimper you're not sure belongs to you or her. You curl your finger inside her, and her head falls back into the crook of your neck as she rolls her hips, grinding against your palm.
"More," she practically demands, and you add another finger.
She's soaking wet, and the lewd sounds coming from your fingers sliding in and out of her has you squeezing your thighs together, desperate for some sort of relief.
You use your thumb to rub circles on her clit, and her movements become more erratic, her moans becoming louder.
"I'm gonna-ugh," she pants, and her nails dig into your skin as she orgasms.
You can feel her walls clenching and unclenching, and her body trembles, her eyes squeezed shut. She breathes heavily, and the sight of her is enough to drive you wild.
You continue stroking her until she opens her eyes, and you can't help but grin.
"Holy shit," she manages, and you remove your fingers, and she lets out a moan.
"Good?"
"Yes," she replies, and leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
"Now," she begins, breaking away. "Let me take care of you."
You can only nod as she reaches for your breasts, fondling them, and her eyes never leave yours. She's smirking, and the intensity in her gaze is enough to make your heart skip a beat.
You close your eyes, enjoying the sensation, and you nearly jump when you feel her body shift, her lips pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck.
She moves down, taking a nipple into her mouth, and you groan, arching your back. Her lips travel to your stomach, and then your thighs, and then you're lifting your hips, and she's sliding your underwear off.
"Spread your legs, y/n," she requests, and her voice is low, seductive.
You obey immediately, and then her tongue is inside you, and her fingers are on your clit, and your entire body is on fire. She sucks on your clit, and then makes headway further down, sliding her tongue inside you. You can't stop the moans that escape from your mouth, and you're certain the whole complex can hear, but you don't care.
Suddenly, she stops, and looks up at you. Your eyes snap open, annoyed by the interruption until you observe the way he's smiling, her chin slick with your wetness.s
"I wanna try something," she begins, and she sits up, scanning the room. "Where's that thing you got the other day?"
You bite back a moan. "Nightstand drawer."
She opens it, and takes out a small, pink object. Your face flushes as she turns it on, the vibrations audible in the otherwise quiet room.
"Is this okay?" she asks, and you nod, eager.
"Yes," you answer, and her mouth returns to your center.
She teases your entrance with the object, and the combination of her tongue and the vibrator has you squirming, your hands finding their way to her head, holding her in place.
"Oh god," you whimper, and the pleasure is indescribable.
Her tongue picks up speed, and then the vibrator enters you, and you nearly scream.
She pushes the toy in and out, and as it vibrates against your clit, and begin to feel like you can't take anymore. Your back arches, and a wave of euphoria washes over you as your orgasm hits, and the only thing you can see is the light from the lamp and the white of the ceiling.
When you regain control of your senses, you can feel her body lying on top of yours, her head on your chest. You lay in silence, trying to catch your breath, and it isn't until you hear her voice that you speak.
"How are you doing?"
"Sleepy," you mumble, and she smiles, pecking you on the lips.
"Then let's go to sleep."
You can only nod as your eyes slowly close and your mind becomes hazy. Before you drift off completely, you think to yourself that this might've been the best night you've had since moving here.
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Two weeks later, you and Bada are going up the elevator to your respective apartments after a walk from your job. You'd just spent the past hour gossiping in between taking customer's orders. Apparently, Mijoo and Naeun are going out. Figures. You hoped it worked out for them, but nobody was beating the blissful few weeks you've.
The two of you are holding hands, and your free one is holding a box containing a dozen chocolate chip cookies, made especially for Bada.
"I'm thinking of moving out," she suddenly states, and the statement catches you off guard.
"What? Why?" you ask, and she shrugs.
"It's about time. I can afford a better place, and I'm ready to move on from the apartment life. I need a house."
"I can understand that," you reply, nodding.
"You should move in with me," she continues, and the statement makes you laugh.
"What? Are you crazy? We just got together."
"Who cares? I want to live with you. Don't you want to live with me?" she responds, pouting, and she gives you puppy dog eyes.
"Yes, but...," you pause, and you can tell from the expression on her face that she's serious.
"But what? What's the problem?"
"Nothing. Let's do it."
"Really?"
"Yes, really," you confirm, and she beams, leaning in to kiss you.
You can't believe what you just agreed to. But, in a way, you're relieved. Maybe this will finally bring a sense of finality to everything that's happened.
"Damn, guess I'm gonna have to tell Jennifer about us. She's coming out here soon," you mutter, opening your email app. You go to type in your friend's email, but your eyes land on an unread email in your inbox, sent two weeks ago. It's from an unknown sender, and the subject is 'Regarding Your Application.'
Your eyes widen, and Bada nosily peers over your shoulder, reading the words.
"What's that?" she asks, and you gulp.
"I don't know."
"Open it!" she exclaims, and you do.
Y/N,
This is Kim Sung Soo, the owner of the property you inquired about. I was out of town for business and unable to contact you regarding your application. I've looked through the papers, and everything seems to be in order. I'd like to meet up with you so we can further discuss the terms of the lease before we finalize anything. When are you available?
"Oh my god," Bada gasps, and she stares at you, wide-eyed.
"What the hell?" you whisper, and Bada squeals.
"Oh, y/n! This is so exciting! Congratulations! I knew it would work out. Now, you can start your bakery, and we can move in together, and oh, my god, I'm so happy!"
"I'm confused," you mutter barely believing your luck, and the elevator dings, indicating that the two of you have arrived.
"Don't worry about it, okay? Come on, let's go have some cookies," she says, tugging on your arm.
You nod, following her down the hall without a hint of resistance. As you watch the woman drag you with a giant smile on her face, you cannot help but giggle. Who knew you'd find home and happiness in such an unlikely place?
218 notes · View notes
arkytiorwrites · 2 years
Text
Day 4: good 4 u
Supreme Strange x Male Reader
I am SO sorry this is late, my sweet duckies. It’s finals and I am dying, but I will make it up to you today, scouts honor.
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Stepping up to the mic of the small club, Y/N spoke, "Is this thing on? Testing, testing. Your mom’s a slut and so is your gal."
There was a roar of outraged laughter at that, causing the musician to grin mischievously.
"Sorry couldn't resist. And I’m kiddin’, boys. Gayer than a unicorn shitting rainbows at a Pride Parade, I'm afraid,” he admitted as he sent a flirty wink to the men seated right in front of him. "So, how is everyone tonight? Obviously, not well, considering the fact you're here rather than literally anywhere else.”
Waiting for the laughter to die down, Y/N double checked that his electric guitar was properly tuned.
“Honestly. Same. I've been havin' the shittiest month I've had in years and that's saying something. Especially when you take into consideration barely scraping by to get into college after your homophobic assholes of parents kick your cute ass to the curb."
There were groans and tuts of sympathy.
“Yeah, my boyfriend broke up with me. In the worst way imaginable. And no, I don't mean over text, although he might as well have. You know what the asshole did?"
“Steph! Baby I'm back!" Y/N yelled as he slammed the door shut with his foot. He came into the front room of the tiny apartment he shared with his boyfriend of three years, Stephen Strange, a med student who was hellbent on becoming a neurosurgeon at any cost. What Y/N stumbled upon made him wish he'd paid more attention to that little red flag.
Stephen's lab partner, Christine Palmer was hurriedly readjusting her shirt, while Stephen calmly sat there with lipstick all over his mouth and his shirt half undone.
"What the actual fuck, Strange! " Y/N yelled as he dropped the groceries.
“We're over, Y/N,” the other stated coldly.
“I'm sorry. I just violently hallucinated. What?"
"I said, we're over. It was fun, but I've lost interest,” Stephen said, face void of any emotion.
...
The crowd bellowed their displeasure.
“Right? Jesus Christ, what a prick. So, I figured I'd perform a little something for you all. Get it off my chest,” Jack explained. “Stephen Strange, I'd say kiss my ass, but I wouldn't let you touch you with a thirty- nine-and-a-half-foot pole. This is for you, asshole.”
With a middle finger thrown high in the air, Y/N began to play his pain.
"Well good for you, I guess you moved on really easily
You found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks
Remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world?
(Ah-ah-ah-ah)
And good for you, I guess that you've been working on yourself
I guess that therapist I found for you, she really helped
Now you can be a better man for your brand new girl.”
"Hey babe, how was class?" Y/N asked as he looked up from his textbook at the sound of Stephen coming home.
“Horrible,” the med student groaned. Collapsing onto the couch with his head on Y/N's lap, he wrapped his arms around the artist’s waist and started to trace abstract shapes on his hip.
"Poor thing," he cooed, combing his fingers through Stephen's thick, dark hair.
“Love you, starlight,” Stephen murmured.
"Well good for you, you look happy and heathy
Not me, if you ever cared to ask
Good for you
You're doing great out there without me, baby
God, I wish that I could do that
I've lost my mind
I've spent the night cryin' on the floor of my bathroom
But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it
But I guess good for you."
As Y/N sang, angry, bitter tears began to trail down his cheeks.
What had he done wrong? Why had Stephen been so damn cold? Where had they gone wrong? He had thought they were happy, Stephen had acted so happy. What the fuck was with the sudden one-eighty? Nothing made any sense anymore.
"Well good for you, I guess you're getting everything you want
You bought a new car and your career’s really taking off
It's like we never even happened, baby
What the fuck is up with that?
And good for you, it's like you never even met me
Remember when you swore to God I was the only
Person who ever got you?
Well, screw that, and screw you
You will never have to hurt the way you know that I do!"
"I swear to God, everyone in that class is an idiot," Stephen snarled as he stormed out of his advanced biology class.
Y/N chased after him with his skateboard in hand, hoping to placate the other before he got to his next class.
"Or, maybe you just need to move to a higher class?" Y/N suggested, wrapping an arm around the taller man's waist and nuzzling into his shoulder.
Freezing in the middle of the hallway, Stephen mulled over his words.
"You're a genius, sweetheart,” he announced, dropping a kiss on top of his head. "I'll see you at home, I’m gonna be late. Love you!"
“Love you too!”
"Well good for you, you look happy and healthy
Not me, if you ever cared to ask
Good for you
You're doing great out there without me, baby
God I wish I could do that
I've lost my mind
I've spent the night cryin’ on the floor of my bathroom
But you're so un affected, I really don't get it
But I guess good for you!"
Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Y/N knocked on the door of his once apartment, wishing he was anywhere but here. Christine answered, and she looked startled.
“Oh. Um, Y/N. Hi," she greeted awkwardly.
"Stuff the small talk, Palmer. I'm just here for my shit," he snarled frigidly, pushing past the redhead and heading towards the bedroom.
Tears pricked his eyes for the umpteenth time that week when he saw every last one of his possessions had been packed into boxes and were clearly waiting for him to take them.
“He really couldn't wait to get rid of me,” Y/N thought, heart breaking all over again.
"Um I can help you carry your things. If you'd like?” Christine offered softly from the doorway.
"It's fine, I can carry it in one trip. You won't have to see me again.”
“Maybe I'm too emotional
But your apathy is like a wound in salt
Maybe I’m too emotional
Or maybe you never cared at all
Maybe I'm too emotional
Your apathy is like a wound in salt
Maybe I’m too emotional
Maybe you never caved at all!"
Y/N never felt more liberated as he told the whole club about his pain and heartache. Yeah, leaving Columbia after fighting so hard to get in sucked like a bitch, but he would be able to start again. He wouldn't have been able to with the constant threat of running into Stephen.
"Well , good for you, you look happy and healthy
Not me, if you ever cared to ask
Good for you, you're doing great out there without me, baby
Like a damn sociopath!
I’ve lost my mind,
I’ve spent the night cryin’ on the floor of my bathroom
But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it
But I guess good for you!
Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily.”
Y/N grinned as he reveled in the screams of approval from the crowd.
Things were gonna be okay.
31 notes · View notes
somediyprojects · 8 months
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Stone Top Coffee Table
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Project by Lauren Chorpening Day:
Revitalizing preowned furniture is a well-loved hobby in my house. There’s a reupholstered sofa in the sunroom, bentwood chairs with new velvet seat covers in the dining room, and a mid-century dresser in the bedroom that got a few coats of paint on the chipped veneer shell.
Earlier this spring, the wood veneer surface of our Craigslist-find coffee table was showing some wear. It didn’t bother me too much, but my husband Austin wanted to try and coat the top in concrete to give it a different look. We sanded it down and then applied the concrete. It was not a great success. The next morning the sides had already broken away from the concrete top and it did not seem like a long-lasting solution. We removed the concrete layer to find that the wood veneer had soaked in the moisture from the concrete and was now looking worse than ever. I’m sure we could have done more research and tried to make the concrete work, but it was such a disappointment that we just started looking for new coffee tables.
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One thing we both really loved about our coffee table was the design of the legs. Instead of individual legs attached to brackets like most tables we had seen from the 50s and 60s, this one had solid wood legs that were braced together in the center. When I started looking at replacement tables, I kept coming back to what I liked about the one we already had. Austin had a great idea to go the Habitat for Humanity ReStore and see if there were any stone pieces that could work as a replacement table top instead of getting a new coffee table.
Thankfully, there were about 20 pieces of 2-by-3-foot sierra white granite that were just the right size and $40 apiece. The only problem was that all of them had been drilled with 2-inch holes for plumbing fixtures. Austin came up with a solution and we went for it. This DIY project was much more doable for us than the concrete top and we completed it in less than an hour. I hope this project inspires you to reimagine pieces in your own home! —Lauren
SUPPLIES
Coffee table with pedestal base or braced legs
Stone countertop cut slightly larger than coffee table leg span
8 clear non-slip furniture bumpers
Hardwood scrap similar depth to stone (if applicable)
Hack saw
Medium grit sandpaper
Drill and drill bit (if applicable)
Hole saw drill attachment 1/4-inch larger than hole in stone (if applicable)
Towel
Hammer or small rubber mallet
INSTRUCTIONS
Step 1
Lay the table on its top. Use a hack saw to separate the legs from the top at the seam.
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Step 2
Place the set of legs right-side up and gently sand the leg base where the top was removed.
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Step 3
Place two non-slip furniture bumpers on each leg where the top will sit.
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Place the leg frame where the coffee table will go. While the furniture bumpers and the weight of the stone top will ensure the table will be sturdy for everyday use, it will be too heavy to adjust and move around easily being two pieces.
Step 4
If your stone piece has a precut hole that needs to be plugged, use a drill with a hole saw attachment that is about 1/4-inch larger than the hole to cut a disk from a hardwood scrap (we used walnut). Use sandpaper to clean up the edges and to buff down the sides until the disk fits into the hole with a bit of pressure. Place the disk in the hole, place a towel over the top and lightly hammer it until it is set in place. Our original idea was to hammer it until it was flush with the table surface, but we ended up liking the look of it sticking up from the surface.
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Step 5
Place the stone surface onto the legs with another person and readjust until it is centered — and you’re done!
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maxisdezign · 3 months
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Photoshop Homework
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BACKGROUND:
The task was to use the jumping man image from Thursday's class and add 2 vector images and 2 raster images. First, I put a new background behind the man. I made a new layer, at pasted a sky image and resized it to fit.
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AEROPLANE: Vector Image #1
The first vector image I made was a aeroplane. I made this by using the pen tool and using hybrid, corner, broken and curved points. I then used the pen tool to make the wings and the front window. I then used the elliptical tool to make aeroplane windows - I copy and pasted the shape to make lots. I made a copy of the aeroplane layer, and I then used the pen tool to make the red design shape. I opened up the pathfinder window (wndow -> pathfinder) and I selected the red design while on the moving (v) tool, I then pressed 'shift' and the aeroplane shape to select them both. With them both selected I then pressed the Pathfinder window and this caused the red design to merge to the plane shape. I then saved the AI file to 'MyFinder' and then uploaded it into PS to work on it there. I opened the file and dragged it into the photoshop file with the jumping guy. I used he moving tool to adjust where the aeroplane was so it fit nicely. I then used the object selection tool and quickly selected the aeroplane. I then erased the mans leg using the eraser tool so that it looked like the plane was flying through his legs.
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BAG: Vector Image #2
I made a bag in AI using the shape tool and the pen tool. I used a rectangle shape tool to make the main bag shape, and then I curved the corners. I did the same with the bag button. I used the pen tool to do the lid of the handbag and the bag straps. I opened up the stroke window (window -> Stroke) and I made the stroke thicker and changed the colouring to match the part of the bag. I then saved the AI bag drawing, and then opened it in PS. I dragged the bag image into the jumping man thing I'm working with. I re-sized the bag using the moving tool (v). I then used the object selection tool on the man and then went onto the bag layer, to erase the bag in the man area where his hand should be over the bag handles.
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BIRD: Raster Image #1
I searched for a bird image, because I wanted to put wings onto the back of the jumping man. I copied the bird image and pasted it into PS. I used the object selection tool as a good starting point, as it got the bulk of what needed doing, done for me automatically. I then created a new layer with the bird selection and another new layer with the colour pink, this pink would act as a greenscreen, so I could see what was showing up in the bird selection easily. I then zoomed in (using z and spacebar) around the outline of the bird, and cut out everything I didn't want using the lasso tool (I held option while using to remove the lasso tool). Once I'd cut everything out so only the wings remained, I then blurred the edges of the wings so the bird cut out wasn't so crispy and harsh at the edges. I then flipped the bird image by going into image -> image rotation -> then flip. I did this so that the bird wings would be the right way when I put them onto the jumping man's back. I then dragged the bird wing layer onto the original PSD I was working on, and then I readjusted the size of the wings to fit the man's back. I then realized the bird wings looked really weird, so I modified the colour of the bird wing by using the colour balance to modify the colour tones to appear more natural, and I used the curves adjustment tool to change the brightness and contrast of the wings.
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AEROPLANE: Raster Image #2
I found the plane image from Google. I then made a copy of the plane layer and then selected the plane by using the object selection tool. I then added a mask to the layer and used white brush to add to the selection and black brush to remove from the selection. I removed the wheels from the plane image so that the plane would appear to be flying when I transport it to the jumping man PSD. I also removed the edge tips of the plane wings, because the pixel image was too small, so the plane tips looked far to thin and unrealistic, so I removed them. Once I'd finished the cut out I blurred around the edges to make the edges less crispy sharp, and more softer. After this, I realized I had put the mask on a layer with the whole plane image, instead of just the plane selection. So I quickly dragged the mask down to a layer with only the plane so I could move the plane to the jumping man PSD. When I added the plane to the jumping man PSD I then had to add both curves adjustment and the colour balance adjustments to help the plane fit in better with the background. I made the plane slightly brighter, and blue-er toned.
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REFLECTION:
I definitely feel that I could've done a better job with this homework. I feel that my graphics were a bit basic. The purple handbag is my least favorite because it doesn't seem to fit in with the man's direction and looks very out-of-place. I am however, quite satisfied with the plane part of the piece. I am proud of myself for picking up the Illustrator skills as fast as I have. And although I felt the graphics could've been better, I am still proud of the skills such as; pen tool (with the different types of lines), elliptical/rectangle tool, pathfinder panel, transporting and uploading files to another, selection tools, eraser tool, stroke tool, zoom tool, layer tool, blur tool, curves, colour balance and masking tools. My next steps are to just keep using all these tools, so I remember how to, with confidence.
0 notes
4dtk · 3 years
Note
hi!!! are you taking smut requests? ignore this if you dont but if you are, can i request morning sex with mark?
nectar (mark)
warnings/tags: irl porn at the end for visualisation, blowjob, cum swallowing, riding, unprotected sex, pwp, brief face-sitting
word count: 1.9k
a/n: sure anon <3, this is for fem!reader btw. link at the end contains irl porn pleaaase don't click unless you're comfortable!
NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI!
“oh man… he’s knocked out cold,” you mumble, squinting at the bright light seeping in through the windows. it baths the room in warmth perfectly, providing that gentle caress of apollo in the messy room that you could half call your home at this point. like the complicated wires of his recording software bundled up at the corner, you were entangled tightly with mark’s complicated life as an idol, having had met the man at a concert where the group’s lightstick hit you in the face, hard.
it had become a running joke ever since you’ve been coming over to the dorms more and more, even getting you a celebratory cake that said please don’t injure her again when mark had finally confessed after months of pestering from the members. johnny had whispered to you that maybe you could finally get your revenge by slamming mark’s face into the cake.
giggling quietly at the memory from two years ago, you’re finally met with mark’s peaceful face, deep in slumber. the sun hardly touches him, blocked by your body as you propped your upper body up with an elbow. he looks so beautiful, so so divine that you can’t help but trail a hand over his covered body, blanket up to his neck since he gets cold easily.
“mmhm…” he mumbles, albeit still unconscious with the slightest knit of his eyebrows. you’re on high alert with that expression, observing him for a few seconds more if he really did happen to have a bad dream. his breaths seem to be laboured, irregular and needy that you catch on without fail. while you readjust yourself under the covers, your knee brushes against his centre to test the waters while your eyes drink in the furrowing of his eyebrows and shaky breathless whimpers he lets out.
“oh. so it’s that kind of dream,” a smirk is plastered on your face, frequenting the contact of your knee against his crotch as you rub him through the fabric. mark thrashes in the sheets below you, obvious that your movements are only fuelling the nasty, dirty fantasy he’s having in his sleep. with a hand, it slips inside his shorts to squeeze the bulge, adding and removing pressure that mark straight up ruts into your hand.
“a..ahn… (y/n)…” he mumbles out, digging his face deeper into the pillow with a tense to his muscles, on edge like intense dance practices and when mark’s just striving to make you cum behind closed doors. right now, you smile to yourself with the tables turned, speeding up your hand. the covers are thrown off of you and you take the chance to see how much he’s making a mess through the underwear, hips shimmying out of the loose sweatpants to chase the tempting touch of your skin on his dick.
you’re so zoned in on the sight that you don’t realise mark’s already awoken, the scrunch on his face displaying the mix of immense pleasure and the annoying headache he’s feeling due to a hangover. like a vice, your hand tightens around his hardening cock that it draws a long moan out of him and you have to bite your lip from concealing your own. the other fists the bedsheets, finger tapping against the cotton; a habit you noticed he does when he's close.
"ack!" you exclaim when mark takes over, meeting his familiar dick as he fishes it out of his underwear, now fully rock hard with beads of pre-cum leaking from its tip. the idol wastes no time in forcing your mouth on him, smiling when it's thrusted so deep that it touches the back of your throat; you gag uncomfortably but recover rather quickly, humming around his length. the warmness of your mouth mimics your pussy so good, and mark can't help but continue the bucking of his hips.
it reminds mark of the countless many sessions he's had with you, hot and heavy in the recording studio as you fucked ruthlessly in the soundproof toilet. shivering and toe-curling on the vibrating washing machine, stimulating your clit while mark hit it from the back. maybe mark's checking off all the boxes, because the way your eyes look up at him at half-mast, desire swirling in your eyes, sinks him into a trance. the gentle whisper of sun rays paint your body like a renaissance painting, splayed over his legs and the remainder of the duvet covers. maybe this is the check box that marks the time where he lazily fucks into you as you struggle to hold in your moans, voice raspy from the morning.
likewise, the thought of mark's cock in you makes you shift uncomfortably, the wet patch on your underwear undeniably growing by the minute with your core pulsating and throbbing. his hands hold your head in place, fingers carding through your locks laced with possibly last night's drunken sweat. they pull back your hair, creating a small ponytail while you tease the tip with your tongue and lick a stripe up his shaft. the sounds you make with your mouth could rival the ones you're making with your fingers on your core, moaning the slurping up his pre-cum that has his length twitching.
"y-yes... oh fuuuck, (y/n)..." his head is thrown back as your bob your head, trailing your hands over his torso where you can feel the contraction and expansion of his ribs. it doesn't take long for mark to cum, hips halting its movements for a second to pump your mouth full of his seed. a smile breaks through when you cringe at the taste, but he's sure you don't mind it since you've done it many times before. "c'mere, angel."
the name makes you grin, getting off the comfort of his thighs to let him taste himself, indulging in a short kiss before mark takes the chance to tug at your shorts. he thumbs it down without effort, coming right off your bottom half as you manoeuvre from knee to knee to let the man take it off.
mark whistles lowly at how soaked you are, a lazy, boyish grin taking over his features as his fingers slip between your folds. they shamelessly leak more juices when mark's digits make contact with your clit, already clenching over cock that you haven't even received. slowly, they trickle down the expanse of his hand and your thighs, a lone string of arousal connecting from your cunt to the tip of his finger.
"so wet, so early in the morning," mark giggles, mirroring your earlier action as he prods at your mouth with those fingers. you taste yourself on him, suckling and licking around them like you just did to his length. "i'll fit right in, won't i?"
you make a noise of approval before grabbing his dick, inching it into you gently and gradually. mark bottoms out and you mewl, shivering at how deep he's in you without any effort before grinding down on him. the little tufts of hair on his skin brush against your sensitive spots near your folds that make the pleasure all the better, and you have to brace yourself with both hands on his chest.
"feel good, honey?" mark's found clarity in his voice now, voice dripping exactly like the pet name while you continued to get used to the seemingly growing erection in you. with eyes closed from both the pleasure and the increasing brightness of a new day, your hips move on their own accord, moving up and down his dick at a slow pace.
"'s good, mark," you babble, instantly speeding up your ministrations. his cock splits you open so good even if you aren't going at your usual pace, choking out mixes of moans and whimpers along with the sounds of your ass descending on his dick.
"you're so d-deep, mark! ooh, hhnn..." your arms are ready to give out, opting instead to lay on his chest with a small pound me leaving your lips. your arms go around him to clutch at the headboard, the sudden snap of mark's hips elicits a dramatic gasp from you. he's filling you up to the brim, and the groan in your ear shows the similar feeling that mark's experiencing.
mark takes your order to heart, the force of his hips continuing their assault on your poor, poor pussy so early in the morning. "babe, you're so- fucking- t-tight, holy shit!" a breathless laugh, a hand to your ass, butterfly kisses along your collarbone, everything else is forgotten except for those few things that dance around in your mind.
"faster, deeper, please...!"
his chuckle is interrupted by a groan, "i'm at my fastest, baby. i did go all out for our last concert yesterday."
the squelching sounds coming from between your legs make you cry out, drool dripping down the sides at your mouth as mark takes up more of your mind. mark, mark, mark falls from your lips repeatedly as he rocks in and out,
"you-" a soft, delirious giggle escapes you at mark's reference to the concert yesterday.
"no words, huh? maybe i should fuck you till you're babbling nonsense," the lack of response makes mark smile against your skin, mouth latching onto your neck.
with the little tap of his finger against your ass and the falter of his thrusts, you know he's close to reaching his peak. his sloppy movements still bring out the worst in you, either way, moans increasing tenfold as his cock continues to impale you. you hold onto his bicep for life, body rocking deliciously against his.
you're so warm, both inside and out, forehead already producing beads of sweat as your hot cavern clenches around his shaft repeatedly. mark pounds into your pussy relentlessly, brushing up against that spot that makes your body convulse before you're gushing and cumming around him, juices leaking non-stop onto the sheets while the knot continues to be undone.
"ahnn- mark! maaark..." the drawl of his name makes the other's eyes roll back in pleasure, not giving you the chance to recover as he pulls his cock out of you. there's an endless trail of profanities leaving his mouth while he pumps out the last bit of restraint out of him, finally letting go on his stomach when he looks at your spasming body, pussy dripping with both your juices.
his cock spurts out hot, white cum, staining his stomach before he lets out a satisfying whine and other breathless words that you can't catch on to. you swipe up his seed with your finger, dipping it into your mouth like dessert that you hum around it.
"i guess i won't need breakfast for a while," you joke, clenching your thighs together to prevent the further dirtying of your sheets. you did change it a week ago...
"ah. no no, don't close 'em," mark beckons you closer with his finger, "i won't need breakfast, either."
you know what's in store for you when the other licks his lips, a sick grin appearing on his face. and when you finally take your rightful place on his face, you find that you'll never get tired of mark's tongue laid flat against your soaking cunt, lapping all that you can offer that mark describes tastes like honey, like nectar. you tell him he's lying, but who are you to judge the words of someone who eats you out so good?
one day, you'll be convinced, but for now, you're fine with accepting the embarrassing compliments from mark, since he's the only one that makes your pussy flutter like a little slut.
(it's irl porn, please please don't click unless you're comfortable) how i imagine mark would fuck you <3
579 notes · View notes
frostedfaves · 3 years
Text
Naive (2)
Masterlist
Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
Summary: You quickly discover that Wanda is different during the night.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, mental manipulation, smut: oral, fingering, overstimulation, edging, penetration, sex toy use, dom/sub dynamics, biting, slapping(? just a lil)
A/N: no more thoughts except please share your own after reading this! writing this slutty shit kept me sane today so enjoy
Previous part
-
To your surprise and relief that eventually transformed into disappointment, Wanda didn’t make an appearance at all for the rest of the week. You spent each shift for the next few days anticipating her return, watching for her over the heads of shorter customers and through the shelves on your way in and out of the bookstore. You were starting to think that she was simply passing through your town and you were just lucky enough to cross paths with her.
“Hi there.”
“Wanda!” you yelp after looking up from your phone hidden behind the register, clearing your throat as you tuck it in your pocket. “Um, can I get you anything?”
“I’m surprised you remember me,” she laughs. “I’m sure you get hundreds of customers a day.” 
“You left a lasting impression,” you admit before you can stop yourself and she grins.
“So did you.”
There’s a brief pause before she adds your name to the end of her sentence with a flicker of something unrecognizable in her eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. Not knowing what else to do with yourself, you go to ask again what she’d like in the same moment she places a bottle of water on the counter.
“I got a really good recommendation the last time I was here, and I’d like to have it again.”
“Coming right up.” You ring up the exact same order, letting your gaze wander to her hand again as she inserts her card. “I never got to tell you how much I love your rings.”
“What?” She lifts her hand after removing her card and chuckles breathlessly. “Oh yeah, thanks.”
A frown appears on your features when you notice the way she grabs the receipt from you, almost as if she’s actively avoiding brushing fingers with you in the same way she did during her last visit. You’re able to replace the frown with a customer service smile, but you can’t shake the feeling that you experienced rejection before even posing a question. 
“I’ll bring it out to you soon,” you tell her before moving to the glass case, grabbing the food items and frowning again when you find her staring at you from the other side. “Is there something else I can get you?”
“What time do you get off today?” she asks in a rushed fashion.
“What?”
“I mean do you have any plans when your shift is done? I meet people all day long and you’re the first person that I’ve wanted to have a conversation with that lasts longer than a few minutes,” she explains a bit slower. 
“I only have an hour left,” you tell her as you slide her food into the oven. “What did you have in mind?”
“Maybe you could show me what fun things I could get into in this area. I’m a bit further away, Lane County, but I’m starting to enjoy it here more.”
“Well there’s a fair happening on the other side of town, if you don’t mind a long bus ride. I’m guessing you don’t since you live in Lane and you somehow ended up here.”
“Oh, I have a car.” She holds up her car keys with a grin and you laugh.
“Well then…” You pause and look over the counter to see that she’s wearing pants today. “I hope you’re not afraid of rollercoasters.”
-
Aside from the occasional flirting when you have no customers, Wanda waits patiently at the same table as before, standing and joining you the moment you reappear on the other side of the counter without your apron. Her rings are tucked away again, and she dares to brush her knuckles against yours as the two of you leave the bookstore.
“Let me get that for you,” she insists, jogging ahead of you to open the car door and you laugh.
“Is this a date? Should I be nervous right now?” you ask in a joking tone, well aware that you’re genuinely wondering.
“Only if you want it to be.”
You take a deep breath while she crosses to the driver’s side, offering her a casual smile once she’s seated next to you. She denies your request to give her the address, insisting that she’ll be able to follow your directions better instead of admitting that she just wants to hear your voice as much as possible. So you lead her to the expansive fairgrounds on the other side of town, feeling excitement build in your heart the closer you get to your destination.
“This place must hold some memories for you,” Wanda acknowledges your wide grin as she parks.
“No, I just haven’t been in a while,” you admit as you both get out of the car. “Friends are too busy and I try to avoid nighttime bus rides as much as possible.”
“You know, I don’t mind giving you rides at night. I’m well aware that public transportation isn’t the safest form of travel.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that! You live too far.”
“Okay then.” Wanda meets you near the fair entrance and grabs your hand, sliding her fingers between yours. “I won’t give you the chance to ask.”
The two of you are latched onto each other, fingers intertwined the whole night aside from being secured on rides or bathroom trips. You’re walking into the games area, each holding a drink when you suddenly pull Wanda over to a booth. 
“Sorry, I just saw that huge giraffe and wanted to try to win it!” you explain as you release her hand to grab a ticket from your pocket. “Can you hold my drink?”
While your back is turned, Wanda sets both drinks on a nearby table and slips her rings onto her hands, returning just in time for you to finish the game. She hands your drink back to you carefully and reaches out to grab the small stuffed toy you’re offered, brushing her fingers against the attendant’s hand as she did so.
“She wants the giraffe,” she threatens, retreating with a pleased smile when he immediately pulls it down for you. “Thank you!”
“How did you do that?!” you question as she hands it to you. “I mean thank you so much, but wow. I’ve never seen anyone give in so easily.”
“I’ve spent most of my life figuring out how to get what I want, love,” she tells you in a low tone, and a shiver travels down your spine when her hand makes contact with your hip. “What do you think about getting out of here?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” you agree quietly, starting to feel as if every other thought that enters your mind is incoherent. “Where do you want to go?”
“I’m taking you home.”
You assume she followed up on her word because you find yourself outside of your apartment building, and her hand closes around your wrist before you can leave the car.
“I had a lot of fun with you tonight.”
“Me too,” you admit, unable to prevent the smile that appears. “I guess this means you’re interested in more than friendship with me.”
“Is it that obvious?” She chuckles quietly as she raises her free hand to your jaw, watching you silently fall against her palm. “I’d bet you’d be a wonderful partner. My best girl.”
“I’d be so good for you,” you reply without hesitation, beginning to feel fuzzy and warm the longer she holds onto you.
“Yeah?” 
Your wrist drops onto the center console as the hand that isn’t resting on your jaw slips under the elastic waistband of your pants and underwear. You gasp when her fingertips begin teasing your entrance, bucking your hips slightly when you feel pressure on your clit.
“Wanda--”
“Shh, it’s okay, darling,” she assures you, slipping her thumb between your parted lips and grinning when they close around her without a fight. “I want to see how good you can be for me.”
She uses her middle finger to stroke slowly over your clit, eyes flickering over to your hips occasionally as they follow her movements. Her thumb slips further into your mouth, and your eyes flutter open when her ring touches your lips and a new sensation follows.
“You’re fine,” she soothes you when you let out a muffled whimper, sighing when she notices a group of people turn the corner at the end of the block and begin heading your way. “Let’s go inside. I don’t need an audience.”
Her fingers are removed from your underwear and in her mouth in seconds, and she practically growls as she cleans the bit of mess you left behind. You hurry out of the car and lead Wanda to your apartment, even in your haze able to remember to get her inside before Ruth sees you. In a few blinks, she’s hovering over you on the bed, and just when you think you can’t handle any more overwhelming sensations, she kisses you.
It’s breathtaking, quite literally you feel air leaving your lungs as if she’s stealing it herself. Your eyes feel like they’re glued shut and the grip she has on your waist is almost painful, but you can’t bring yourself to complain when she’s guiding you to grind on her thigh. Her lips are replaced with two of her fingers as she begins making her way down your body, carefully undressing you with her free hand and biting and kissing the skin she exposes.
“You’re unbearably wet,” she comments from between your legs, dipping her tongue inside you while stroking yours with her fingertips and humming loudly so you’ll arch into her more. “So fucking good.”
Her tongue is replaced with her fingers, and she begins slowly pumping in and out of you while sucking on your clit just to get a reaction. She grabs your hands as they go for her hair and hold them together by the wrists, readjusting so that her thumb can circle your clit when she pulls her head away.
“Being good means not touching unless I tell you to,” she scolds.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize breathlessly through moans as she picks up her pace while adding another finger.
“You’ll have plenty of time to learn. I’ve decided to make you mine.” She continues to finger you as she brings herself back over you, ignoring your gasp when you notice her darkened eyes and pinning your hands above your head. “I can’t wait to make it official.”
Her head dips down and you fall over the edge just as she sucks your earlobe into her mouth, thrusting into you forcefully as she continues you fuck you well past the end of your orgasm while her other hand pushes your pinned wrists into the mattress as hard as she can. You’re just about to cum again when she pulls away entirely, quickly unzipping her pants and freeing a toy she had tucked away.
“That’s really big,” you comment with wide eyes that immediately flutter closed when she pushes the head of the toy inside you. “Fuck.”
“Watch your mouth,” she warns you with a quick slap on your cheek, lowering her hand to hold onto your neck just below your jaw while thrusting into you more. “If it’s so big, why is my pussy swallowing it so easily?”
“Because I want it,” you whine, releasing a loud moan when she slams her hips against yours. “Please please please, I want it.”
“I know you do, love.”
Her other hand pins your wrist against the mattress again as she leans forward and begins fucking into you as hard as she can. She slips her thumb back into your mouth to reduce your screams to muffled whines, grinning to herself when you sink your teeth into her flesh a few times.
“Begging for something you can’t even handle,” she teases, prying your mouth open with her thumb as she lowers her head closer to yours. “Perhaps we should start over.”
She waits until you start to cum and slips her tongue into your waiting mouth, and everything goes dark.
770 notes · View notes
alluringjae · 3 years
Text
au cours de l’été - jjh
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⤑ translation: over the summer
⤑ summary: this is a story of an exhausted painter who needed a breather from the hectic city life. so aside from moving to the countryside, the needed air in your lungs also came in the form of a person. this summer meant for pure relaxation, perhaps your heart may dive into him too.
⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader
⤑ word count: 15.2k (so much for saying that i’ll be writing shorter stories)
⤑ genre: fluff, romance, smut | author!jaehyun, painter!reader, strangers to lovers!au, 50s-60s!au, summer love in france!au
⤑ warnings: me inserting some french phrases because I want to practice (feel free to correct me if I made mistakes, i’ll appreciate them), fictional interpretations of real-life people, explicit language, jaehyun being such a romantic pls im in tears, mentions and scenes of burnout (the worst)
⤑ playlist: everybody loves somebody by dean martin | c’est si bon by eartha kitt | it’s always you by chet baker | les yeux ouverts by emilie-claire barlow | a sunday kind of love by etta james | the most beautiful thing by bruno major | try again by jaehyun and d.ear (duh) | free love (dream edit) by honne | petite fleur by jill barber | plus je t’embrasse by blossom dearie | so this is love by ilene woods and mike douglas
⤑ author’s note: this was an idea that just came to me after pinterest kept recommending me poetic beauty/try again jaehyun, so here we are! i intended to write less than 5k words but sometimes plans don’t go as planned once you really invest in the story yet i’m really happy how this turned out!
the romantic exhilaration in my bones are off the charts because this is jaehyun we’re talking about lol enjoy!
⤑ masterlist
⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!
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3 juin 1957
The city life overstimulated your entire system, losing your brainpower and inspiration. Another exhibition that’ll feature your works with other influential painters was happening at the end of the year, and you had nothing prepared so far. You’ve crashed to the deep end of creative fatigue.
So you needed to get away again; somewhere quieter and surrounded by nature.
That’s why you ended up in the countryside down south, somewhere within Provence. It’s purely just for the summer, but extensions were okay as long you get back at least a month before the show. Filing that leave of absence at the studio you worked at was worth it.
You rented an apartment overlooking the marketplace, where the heart of the village was. After arranging things from your boxes and luggage the entire day, you found out that you lacked in the food department.  
So the succeeding day, the entire morning was spent on grocery shopping downstairs then stocking them inside your refrigerator, freezer, and pantry. Right after changing out of your pajamas into a flowy floral dress and sandals, you decided to bike to the bakery that locals suggested. A must-go place for newcomers, they all raved.
“Café des Étoiles Perdues.” (Café of Lost Stars.)
The clear chimes of the bell resounded through the small, cottage-like lobby as you entered inside. An old woman, whom you assumed was the owner, welcomed you openly.
“Oh la la, vous êtes belle! Vous vous appelez (Y/N), la nouvelle venue, n'est-ce pas?” (Oh la la, you’re beautiful. Your name is (Y/N), the newcomer, right?)
She complimented, making you shyly mutter your answer. Wiping off the flour from her apron, she introduced herself kindly.
“Je m’appelle Camille. Mes spécialités sont les macarons pisctaches et des croissants avec des amandes. Autre chose que tu aimes?” (I’m Camille. My specialties are the pistachio macarons and croissants with almonds. Is there anything else you like?)
“J'aime tout ce que vous suggères, Madame.” (I’d like anything that you suggest, Madame.)
A younger man, who went by Jaemin, was a part-timer barista who asked for your coffee order. As he directed you to the best seat of the café, which was outside overlooking the garden of blooming sunflowers, you pulled out your sketch pad so you could capture this dreamy view. It was nothing like you’ve ever seen in your life.
You’ve decided on a theme already for your exhibit thanks to your conversations with locals yesterday, which was related to freedom. After being chained to cities for so-called better living and financial standards, it’s actually how your inspiration to create squeezed the life out of you like a lemon. Although it was fun at first to see those tourist spots, it eventually got tiring.
Another matchstick to graze intensity through your bones was what you prayed for.
While you’re engaged in a rough sketch of the scenery, the dandy presence of a young man entered the café with his books. White shirt, red trousers with a matching beret, he sported freckles on his pale face. Despite visiting his favorite café numerously, Camille was overjoyed to see him and his serene smiles.
“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”
“Bonjour, Madame! I’m starving for your croissants because I ran out back home.”
“Not to worry! I’ll pack up some so you’re on your way.” She lightened him up like one of her kids, taking one of the bigger paper bags.
“No rush though, Madame. I’ll be reading and working here for a bit here.” Jaehyun affirmed, bringing it out his wallet and called out for Jaemin.
“Un café crème, s’il vous plait.” (One cup of cappuccino, please.)
Jaehyun’s usual chair was by the large window, overseeing the wide garden planted by the citizens of the village way before he was born. It was places like this he missed after moving to the city for his education and work’s sake. 
That’s the thing when you’re coming from a rich family; you don’t have much of say with what your parents order you to do. However, his recent request to stay in his childhood home (or mansion) again was fulfilled because he couldn’t search for what he needed in the cities anymore.
Jaehyun was a sucker for romance; an old romantic others would say. A lot of women mistook his kindness as flirting on many occasions, but ironically he just wasn’t looking for anyone yet. 
Starting as a novelist in the said genre based on real-life stories of people he met in Paris, Barcelona, London, and more, his stories were popular hits especially to young adults who aspire to find love one day.
However, traveling to the known places no longer felt fun as he got older. The stories he gathered were very similar, just in different languages. It took an enthusiastic dinner with his family, specifically his only older sister Krystal retelling fond stories from their younger years to get the idea of moving back for a bit. So consumed with the city life, he wanted to see things from another perspective.
What was the difference between a love story formed in the countryside than in the city?
It’s been a month since he arrived, but he didn’t hurry himself to do his research. He’s been reading books in his family library, revisiting monumental places, exploring around the village, and reconnecting with old friends as if he never left. 
Readjusting to his former life would make writing easier when he’s motivated enough to do it again. Besides, his books were profiting well enough to his taste; good enough for the next 10 years according to his personal accountant, Kim Jungwoo.
Jaehyun resumed reading this book his mother recommended him before he left. Entitled “Réessaye”, which was about a young man who reunites with his childhood sweetheart after his arranged marriage failed. After what she put her through, he’s hesitant whether to try again or let her go.
Jaehyun enjoyed reading books with realistic outlooks on love because he found them more meaningful, enlightening how exactly it makes you feel and do. Even if he enjoyed reading sappy, fairytale-like stories from time to time, he always returned to the real ones as they only displayed the truth.
That love isn’t always rainbows and sunshine, but something that can also break you especially if you go after the wrong person. This kind of mindset was how he toiled on his stories, which gained him a status outside of his unavoidable labels such as “the only striking son of the Jeong family” or “Valentine Boy”.
He diligently browsed through the climax, where the main male character confessed all his constrained emotions to his sweetheart. But it was until Jaemin pressed the bag of croissants in front of his face after placing down his childhood friend’s drink to disturb his peace.
“Reading again?” He taunted, snatching his book away and throwing the bag on Jaehyun’s lap. “When are you writing that book already? Everyone is practically dying for you to release something new again!”
Jaehyun flatly shook his head, drinking his coffee quietly. It’s not the first time anyone asked (or pressured) him about his next release, and it’s the last thing he wanted to think about. “Not in the mood right now, Jaemin. Now off to work before Madame Camille scolds you again.”
“You’re just stalling because you have nothing to write, don’t you?” Jaemin cunningly expressed, raising a brow. He’s known to catch onto the people’s bs easily; the last person you’d want to say your secrets too and Jaehyun realized too late. Though lucky for him, Jaemin shut the topic down right away so he wouldn’t pop a vein.
“Sais-tu de la nouvelle venue dans le village, d'ailleurs?” (Do you know about the newcomer in the village, by the way?)
“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)
Being stuck at his mansion recently, news about village affairs were now late to him. Jaemin’s finger discreetly pointed outside the window, pertaining to a young woman sat outside painting her view in front of her.
That would be you, shading all the flowers in bright colors.
Seeing a new face amazed Jaehyun, especially when she was almost someone right out of a book. In a neat bun with white daisies printed in her dress, she crossed her legs whilst continuing her movements. She bit her lower lip, frustrated over an accidental smudge she made and trying to fix it by blending it with another color. When she accomplished it, she swapped brushes. A thinner one, to outline the shapes of the flower. Her lips curved to a smile after finishing another one perfectly with the rest.
“Jaehyun?”
Jaemin snapped his fingers to his distracted friend, zoning out the window. Still something he hasn’t stop doing, he pondered. With a final snap, Jaehyun broke away from falling hard from his abstract. Jaemin calculated the problem so quickly, analyzing his friend breezily like his medical school requirements.
“Elle est splendide, n'est-ce pas?” (She’s gorgeous, right?)
“Elle ressemble à une personne décente.” (She looks like a decent person.)
Jaehyun pushed it aside, flipping back to the page where he stopped reading. Before Jaemin responded, the door chimed open again to alarm him that a new customer came in. He excused himself to his friend, warning him that this wasn’t the last time he’ll talk about the newcomer too.
Jaehyun nodded along, not taking his friend’s cheeky words so seriously. However, the final result you attempted to create tickled his curiosity, so he slyly peeked from his book to the window.
You’ve freed your hair down, victorious to have started your collection this early in your break. A fantastic start, you let the paint dry first and munch on the croissant that served as your reward. However, you ‘re quick to notice a manly figure glancing through the window. From the side, his brown eyes appeared lively even if his entire face was hidden by the book.
Réessaye by Mark Lee; he must be a romantic. Every person in your studio read it, excluding yourself. Painfully beautiful, they’d summarize it.
Daring to meet more people, you locked eye contact with him. He didn’t expect it, almost flipping from his chair. Bashfully, you waved him a hello to somewhat break the ice. However, it broke his composure, and suddenly, he scurried off with his things from the café.
Now, you got quite worried. You checked your tiny mirror if he saw anything unpleasant with you, but you’d say you look relatively fine. Oh, maybe you could redeem yourself the next time you saw him. After bidding goodbye to Camille and Jaemin, the latter chased after you when you prepared yourself on your bike.
“By any chance, did you say hi to a guy with brown eyes and a red beret?”
“Well, more like I waved at him, then he zoomed out. Did I do something wrong?” You questioned with concern, putting your hands on the handles.
“That’s my friend, who’s quite reserved with strangers. I’m sorry on his behalf.”
“Nah, it’s fine.” You brushed it off politely. “See you again soon, Jaemin!”
Peddling away, letting the cool breeze fan you, your mind reverted its thoughts to that strange man. Maybe you’ll give it some time; you had a lot of it.
“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”
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12 juin 1957
The world must really be on your side with these good decisions because you crossed paths with the strange man again in the café a week later. But instead of running away, he asked nicely if he could sit across your free chair in front of your table outside. It was a Saturday, and the place was packed.
“Joignez-moi, s’il vous plait.” (Join me, please.)
You insisted, giving yourself time to subtly observe his physique a lot more. Freckles dotted under his eyes like a constellation, bushy eyebrows, pink cheeks to match his pale complexion, and wearing a fuzzy knit sweater that meshed well with his green beret. He had some sort of necklace too; there was a heart pendant.
“Vous êtes une artiste.” (You’re an artist.) The small wooden palette of paint beside your small sketch pad was exposed, finding it as a great icebreaker.
“Une peintre, spécifiquement. Franchement, les visuels ici sont trés captivants qu'à Paris.” (A painter, to be specific. Frankly, the visuals here are more captivating than in Paris.)
“Je suis d’accord,” (I agree,) Jaehyun leaned against his chair, taking a better look at you with the remaining light from the descending sun.
“Oh, vous êtes comme moi. J’habite à Paris aussi.” (Oh, you’re like me. I live in Paris too.)
“Bon, je suis née à Londres. Puis, j’ai déménagé où je voulais en Europe depuis j'avais 18 ans. Mais oui, j’habite définitivement à Paris maintenant.” (Well, I was born in London then moved wherever I wanted in Europe for inspiration since I was 18. But yes, I live permanently in Paris now.)
You clarified, beginning to enjoy his comforting company. Initiating conversations with people you’re not acquainted with wasn’t in your range of skills, though he didn’t have an intimidating vibe. He looked too youthful to act like that.
“Je m’appelle (Y/N), d'ailleurs.” (I’m (Y/N), by the way.) You stuck out your hand as a sign of respect, which he enthusiastically obliged.
“Salut, (Y/N). Je m’appelle Jaehyun.” [Hi, (Y/N). I’m Jaehyun.]
He kissed it in a gentleman fashion, applying the manners he’s been taught since he was a child. Should you have been flustered, but no.  It’s been a long time since anyone greeted you like that, specifically back home.
Throughout your talk, you learned more about who he was, his job, and what his life in the countryside is like. He was an author of romance novels, yet you’ve never heard about him prior. Heavily prioritizing your work, you don’t keep up with the new releases or trends at all. Though after mentioning his last name, it piqued your interest.
“Jeong? As in the business, Jeong Tea Inc.?”
“Correct.”
His family was one of the most affluent families in Parisian society. Old money immigrants from South Korea, they brought their tea business to France and it boomed successfully. You’re quite sure you’ve seen his parents in past exhibits, but never did you approach them because you were a rookie then. But he reassured you that it was fine, and to just treat him like you’d treat your friends. Plus, it came to your knowledge that he was the same age as you too.
He opened up how this village was where he lived his childhood, so he asked his parents if he could hand over their mansion for a while for rest. It then shocked both of you at how identical your reasons were for staying in the countryside.
“I’m burnt out from the city, so I’m trying to regain my spirit here hopefully. Besides, I needed a change of scenery after living there for 3 years. My longest stay yet outside of London!”
“I need new ideas for my books. The cities don’t charm me anymore, so I returned here for peace and quiet. Maybe let these ideas come to me rather than me going after them.”
From a bigger lens, people would conclude your interaction as a sight of two artists who passionately talk about their art. But to you, you’d interpret it as two relaxed, young adults in their twenties who simply wanted to run away from the pressures of their art and enjoy the summer as every young adult should.
Not cooped up in the studio or office, but innocently waltzing around with your youth while it’s still there.
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début de juillet 1957
“Dépêche-toi, (Y/N)!” [Hurry up, (Y/N)!]
Jaehyun yelled at your open balcony from downstairs, parking his mini car beside your bike. He planned on taking you somewhere a little farther this time; to absolutely feel like one of the locals.
The countryside urged you to wear more dresses and flat shoes, so you took out a turquoise dress with a white scarf to wrap on top of your head. Like your relaxed fit, your mindset too was calm. Upon meeting him, he wore his round spectacles with a red knit sweater over a white turtleneck long-sleeved top. His fingers were adorned with silver rings, then around his neck was a thin black ribbon. He curled some of his hair again, a style you really liked of his.
You can’t lie, but this man could pull any trend or style and still look extra pretty.
Out of all the locals you’ve befriended in your stay, Jaehyun was always your companion. He took you to varying places that those locals don’t visit nor tourists acknowledge in their reviews for the past few weeks. For someone who hasn’t been in the village for a long time, his memory didn’t disappoint. His childhood was only filled with cheerful moments.
Today, he was taking you to a peaceful district of shops in the farther part of the village. It’s where he’d buy sweets, journals, and accessories with his mother, Krystal, and one of his housemaids every other weekend.
All the stores there were currently bombarded with blooming flowers along their alley, bringing more enticement to those who were roaming around. There was so much life here; the head waiter of one restaurant smiling at every passing customer, one florist handing a free flower to anyone who asks, and a young lady showcasing her jewelry collection to a bunch of women who looked like tourists.
“Cette librairie vendent des livres enveloppés dans du papier. Ma mère m'a offerte l'un d'eux pour mon anniversaire tous les ans comme une surprise.” (This bookstore sells books wrapped in paper. My mother gifted me one of them on my birthday every year as a surprise.)
He trained his attention at a rustic shop with open wooden windows giving a glimpse of their shelves.
“Avez-vous fini les lisant?” (Have you finished reading them?)
“Du début à la fin.” (From cover to cover.)
He took you to this rooftop restaurant overlooking the entire plaza. Since he didn’t arrange a reservation yet didn’t get rejected, he must know the owner. Especially how a lot of the staff gave casual hellos and high fives.
Speaking of the owner, he walked out of his kitchen to introduce himself to you. He went by the name Moon Taeil, another one of Jaehyun’s childhood friends whom he used to play at his house whenever his parents came along.
Gobbling up in the appetizing food Taeil prepared beforehand, Jaehyun brought up your painting exhibition again. He loved hearing artists talk about their works, wanting to know more about their driven mindset and what their imagination is like. After all, it does vary for everyone.
“So far,” You poked your fork through the chicken, taking a bite of it. “I’ve produced 3 paintings. The garden of flowers outside Café des Étoiles Perdues, the kids playing hopscotch in the alley, and the peach tree outside your house.”
“Woah, you’re on a roll.” Jaehyun clapped across you, pouring you another glass of water. He recalled the nights you ranted not having any clue what to do for the exhibit. Then after taking you to more places, he’s rewarded to see you be creatively active again. “How many artworks do you left to make?”
“Around 3-4 left. I have ideas already, but I’m still brainstorming.” You internally rejoiced, loving how much progress you’ve made. “How about you, Jaehyun? How’s your progress?”
Unlike you, Jaehyun still felt stuck. Although he did find couples around the village, none of them intrigued him as much as his past stories. But he won’t give up easily; that’s not in his work ethic.
“Still searching, but I’ll get there.”
Recently, you got ahold of some of Jaehyun’s books from him personally since they weren’t sold in the village. You wanted to understand how he became so well known outside the labels people put him under. Reading his first novel entitled “Des Papillons” (Butterflies), it was about a couple separated during World War II without contact or knowledge about their well-being. Yet whenever they saw butterflies on the day they parted, they took it as a sign that the other was alive wherever they were.
You’re always hanging on the cliff when the scenes revert back and forth to the main male lead getting stuck in intense war scenarios, rooting for him to get out alive each time. In the end, it took 7 years before they were reunited and wed.
Jaehyun had a wonderful way with his words and descriptions, managing to enwrap you in as if you’re also a character in the book. Like how you rooted for that male lead, you’re rooting for him to find his spark again.
Following this uplifting conversation, Jaehyun finally took to your greatly anticipated spot. It was the main viewpoint of Gordes, one of the most beautiful hilltop villages in the country. The sunset was about to hit, and the lights from the city across you slowly turned on like a bunch of dominos.
As you marveled at its aesthetics, Jaehyun leaned against the hood of his car. He sensed how in awe you were, more than you ever were in the city he assumed. So used to the city that being surrounded with nature became foreign to you.
He took out his polaroid camera from his trunk and captured a photo of you from behind. The shutter sounds were obvious, turning your back at the commotion. Jaehyun fanned the freshly printed photo to dry, giving a mischievous smile.
“What can I say? While you’re fawning over the view, mine was more enamoring.”
Although Jaehyun felt overwhelmed the first time he locked eyes with you, he can’t resist the power of his developing feelings for you. The more time he took you around, the more his heart found different details about you to admire. After listening to all those love stories in the past, the people he spoke to shared how there will be some distinct moment where your heart decides who they’re longing for.
That exact view of you by the cliff, he already knew.
He’s infatuated by you.
“Tu es très ringard, Jaehyun.” (You’re so cheesy, Jaehyun.) You scoffed sassily, with a hand on your waist.
“Un gentleman ne ment jamais, (Y/N). Allez, il fait nuit maintenant.” [A gentleman never lies, (Y/N). Come on, it’s night already.]
He cleverly responded, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. The trip back to the village was energizing, putting down the roof of his car to relish the chill breeze of the night weather. You even raised your arms in the air, losing your scarf even from the speed Jaehyun went at!
The two of you belted along to the songs on the radio when the fields were the only ones surrounding you, no neighbors to shout at your rambunctiousness.
The late-night hours drew by so quickly almost like dinner with more of Jaehyun’s friends didn’t happen. Arriving at the front doors of your apartment complex, Jaehyun raced over to your side to open your door. Always maintained proper observation of manners, you appreciated that side of him. Rarely anyone in Paris that you’ve encountered treated you that way because you were a foreigner.
“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]
“Bonsoir, Jaehyun. Quand est-ce que je te revois?” (Goodnight, Jaehyun. When can I see you again?)
“Demain et après-demain. Appelle-moi quand tu es libre.” (Tomorrow, and the day after that. Just give me a call when you’re free.)
With a short wave, you entered your building and marched up to the stairs. A good day only meant being tired to the core, ready to crash and fall in your soft bed. Opening your wide windows to let more of the cool breeze in, your eyes easily caught Jaehyun’s classy car still there. As for the owner, he didn’t move an inch from his leaning position.
“Rentre à la maison, Jaehyun! C’est tard!” (Go home, Jaehyun! It’s late!) You shrieked, peeking side to side to make sure none of the neighbors scold you.
Jaehyun laughed wholeheartedly, not budging at all. “La nuit ne fait que commencer, ma chérie.” (The night has just begun, my darling.)
“Comment tu m'as appelé?” (What did you call me?)
Either your ears were fooling you or he addressed you by a divine pet name. The gasp you swallowed, as your entire body tingled with exhilaration. Your mind would simply disregard it like his former teasing words, but your heart begged to differ.
Rather than responding with words, Jaehyun’s voice serenaded you with a wondrous song, C’est Si Bon by Eartha Kitt, that played on the radio earlier. Out of the blue, a random guitar accompaniment followed his baritone vocals.
“En voyant notre mine ravie,”
Against the railing of your wired balcony, your body shifted forward to watch him better.
“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”
Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.
“C'est si bon de guetter dans ses yeux,”
It was like a lullaby, and here you were drowning in its peacefulness. Sensing the passion he gives off in his singing, your heart couldn’t refrain the strings inside from being swayed and tugged.
This was your moment of realization: that you too were smitten.
“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”
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À la mi-juillet de 1957
“Hello, nature!” You greeted brightly as your legs raced the huge garden in his manor. It was the first time he invited you over, too lazy to go out of the city. His social battery needed a recharge for the weekend, so a picnic within his home would do the trick. Additionally, it was an excuse to bring you over after the numerous times you’ve begged him to.
Jaehyun merely shook his head, enjoying the rush of childlike fun in your veins while you squealed and grazed your hands through the flowers.
He carried a wooden basket full of treats his family maids cooked, taking his time to venture through the rows of flowers. They were growing healthily and phenomenally these days, sometimes riding his bike to personally water them since he became busy with writing again. Lately, he found inspiration again, and so he wrote day and night to set them free.
“Voila!” You yanked out a sunflower, sniffing it a little. “Come on, Jaehyun! Pick up a few for our lunch!”
He followed your order, picking out some he found ideal. But just for fun, he put down the basket and carried you from behind out of the blue. You tried kicking him away, but his muscular arms can’t compete with your soft ones.
“What are you doing?”
“You said to pick up a flower, so I did. The prettiest of them all.”
His flirtatious words were never serious, yet you took it as a compliment. That’s how high your confidence is. Only we define our own worth, not others. The two of you chatted more about your lives until the first rain of the season poured down, chilling down from the raging heat. None of you had an umbrella; the weather was too unpredictable.
Deciding to just run for it, he gave you the wooden basket to protect yourself whilst he used the blanket you’ve sat on. Running with laughter to return to his mansion in the muddy dirt, the cool drops shivered your figure yet felt fantastic.
If you were in the city, you’d panic because it’d mess your appearance and your boss would be infuriated by your unprofessionalism. But in the countryside, it didn’t matter at all. The condition of the rain wasn’t budging to improve, getting stronger by the minute. His entire house even lost power, his housemaids having to bring candles to his bedroom and your assigned one once night dawned.
It was hopeless to return home for you, plus it’s dangerous to drive in in the dark, narrow streets too. Jaehyun handed you some of his fresh clothes so you’d be free from flinching from cold dress sticking to your body.
“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”
Nodding, you excused yourself to find the bathroom. You’d assume it’d be easy, but this was your first time in his house; a mansion even. Doors from left to right, long corridors that seemed never-ending, no maids were within the vicinity whom you can ask for guidance.
Resorting to return to Jaehyun’s chamber for help, you were taken aback by what your eyes laid on. In front of his full mirror, he discarded his now-dried shirt. Even with the dim lighting, you could make out that he was fit by the transparent view of his abdomen. Peeping like this was wrong, yet you couldn’t turn away just yet. The heat in your cheeks was inevitable, finding composure in such an unholy sight.
Though a gear in you suddenly twisted; a gear that straightened your nerves. You’re taking a bold move on the chessboard of your feelings. Wholly opening his bedroom door again, you leisurely sauntered inside without warning.
“Oh, (Y/N)! Ne peux pas trouver la salle de bain?” (Oh, (Y/N)! Can’t find the bathroom?)
Unbothered as he stood shirtless, you on the other hand silently dropped his clothes on the floor. Holding intense eye contact, your fingers graciously unzipped the side of your dress. Inch by inch, the tension built up like the strong tiny flames lit on the candles around you two. Joining the pile of clothes, all that remained were your white lace undergarments. Unplanned for the get-go, it’s the ideal set for your earlier outfit at the picnic.
“Je me suis perdue, mais je pense avoir trouvé quelque chose de mieux.” (I got lost, but I think I found something better.)
Your fingers grazed your arm up to your collarbones, faking your naivety. From your lust-filled stare, the glint in Jaehyun’s eyes darkened. He gulped at the revealing sight of you, brushing his hair back to restrain himself.
None of you could utter a single word, only the vivacious rain being the only sounds ringing around you. Thus, you allowed your actions to pursue precisely what you desired to do.
Taking baby steps towards him to test the waters, he met you right in the center and closed the leftover space. His hands cradled your face, whilst yours clung to his chest. His lips tasted like red wine, watching him pour in a glass for himself earlier. He did offer, yet you declined.
Your tongue darted his lower lip, gaining access after. Sensing the edge of his bed, you plopped yourself down the cushion. His knee urged your legs to widen, letting his body slide in. From your face, his fingers lowered to the back of your bra, snapping the clasps open.
“It takes skill to accomplish that in one try, Jaehyun.”
“I lived in Paris too, ma chérie. You out of all people would understand and have the experience.”
His palms massaged your freed breasts, throwing your head back even more to his pillows as his lips ravaged down from your stomach until the fabric of your not-so pure panties.
“Call me that again, please.”
“Ma chérie, seras-tu mienne?” (My darling, will you be mine?) He kissed and licked the tiny ribbon in front repeatedly, where your now-swollen clit laid. It electrified your bones, pulling on to his ruffled hair.
“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)
Sex in the form of one-night stands were all you’ve invested; upcoming artists like you weren’t capable to maintain long-term relationships. Les plans à trois even if you’re extra freaky or drunk from the afterparties of your events. All that these occurrences had in common were not seeing those men ever again after sneaking out of their apartments in the morning.
This time, it’s different.
When they said that doing the deed with someone you’re romantically entangled with was more special, they didn’t bluff. You could plan bits of your life, but it can sometimes change aspects of it when you least expect it. Sometimes for the best or the worst, but right now, it went beyond your expectations.
It’s rewarding that the man you’ve slowly fallen for within your stay returned your affections.
Around late 3 am that night, your brain jolted with artistic ideas that awoken your sonorous rest. There are no hopes of sleeping them off because they tend to bother you for hours until you do something about it. But you’re already so cozy having Jaehyun’s arms around you, skin to skin under the duvet. His lips daunted right above your forehead, recalling his endless kisses there that helped you fall asleep.
Well, these ideas don’t work themselves unless you do. Untangling him tactfully, you stepped out of the blanket and wore one of his long white shirts he gave you earlier before pulling out your sketchpad and palette of oil paints.
Luckily, there was still one available candle to use as the rest have melted indefinitely. You slid the matchstick again to the sand surface, boring a flame from the friction which you placed on top of the wick.
All your ideas that night leaned towards one thing, or person rather: Jaehyun.
You spent a few minutes retracing how he vividly looked at the picnic, leaning back from the chair of his work desk. His outfit of a turquoise turtleneck underneath a white button-top with trousers matching the said turtleneck looked good together, how his ears tingled red after you complimented his newfound inspiration for his book, and the prominent veins in his arms when he rolled his sleeves due to the heat.
The thin brush you held defined the shape of his face, then paying attention to the messy strands of his hair. Stroking in a circular way to outline his eyelids, a hoarse grunt disturbed the peaceful silence.
“Get back in bed, ma chérie.” His eyes drowsily opened, lying on his side. The moment he no longer felt your warmth, he worried something happened. Instead, you’re working late at night after quite a rough yet romantic night.
“Shush,” You shunned him down with your index finger. “Give me a few more minutes.”
“Perhaps, are you painting me?” He hunched from the covers. “Your eyes looking back and forth would never lie to me, would they?”
“Maybe…” You teased, batting your eyes at him without any risky intentions. Or not?
He deeply chuckled, sluggishly removing himself under the covers. In his pure nudity, he advanced himself towards you. You shrieked, covering yourself with your free hand.
“Jaehyun, stay back! I told you I’ll be there soon!”
Not listening, he carried your bridal style, making you drop your precious palette to the fur rug. Laying you carefully, he popped each button open. By the sight of his cock hardening again, you knew you were in for another round with him.
“Wet again, ma chérie? Oh, this will be fun.”
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Fin de juillet 1957
So this kind of summer romance concept that everyone fantasized about… it became your present.
Together you’d stroll in the smaller streets and immerse yourselves in the unique culture of the village. Whenever anyone saw you together, holding hands, biking, or what-not, they’d praise in the name of love for bringing you both together. A romance like yours in the countryside was a lively sight.
Remember how extensions were a possibility if your search for inspiration wasn’t found? Well, it’s not a question that you’d make one, except inspiration found you instead. And he had one arm around you as he slow danced with you in the open grounds of the village, listening to the live band covering song classics.
In particular, Chet Baker. He was Jaehyun’s favorite artist at the moment.
There was an ongoing week-long festival dedicated to summer, giving more plants their bloom and spreading gratitude to the hardworking people. Especially the students, off on their break.
The faint radiance from the post lights as Jaehyun swayed you around, making you laugh as he tried to mumble the lyrics of the song. All those glasses of wine he tried earlier with you from the bartender offering it for free had its effects, and you weren’t off the hook from them either.
Blisters started to form from your ankles, adjusting to the new pair of heels Jaehyun gave (or insisted to buy) you a while ago after staring at them like lasers. You’ve always provided things for yourself that being spoiled by someone else felt weird to you.
“If there’s anything you want me to buy for you, just tell me.”
“How can I buy you if you’re already mine?”
His smooth talk often made you punch his shoulder, but it’s just a mechanism to hide the exhilaration.
Under each other’s spells in your dance, you laid your head on Jaehyun’s chest. Feeling the strong beat of his heart, you were reminded of how much life he’s filled with. And you became a part of it, in the same way he crossed yours.
Jaehyun’s lips sank to the top of your head, pecking it affectionately. The first-ever summer where he wasn’t stuck at his desk working or drinking his life away with his rich friends in their Parisian homes, it couldn’t get better than this.
“Oiii! Flirtez ailleurs!” (Oiii! Flirt somewhere else!) The distinct voice of Jaemin, handing out pastries to passersby, shouted at the both of you, making you flip your middle finger at him.
“Trouve une copine d’abord, d’accord?!” (Find a girlfriend first, alright?!) You shouted back jokingly, almost falling due to the ache of your feet. Your immodest behavior was censored by Jaehyun’s large palms, not wanting the kids around to see it. Whispering closely to your ear,
“Tu es ivre. Laisse-moi te ramener chez toi.” (You’re drunk. Let me take you home.)
You changed back into your sandals as Jaehyun led you through the different alleys. Your vision was too hazy to navigate, so he had one arm wrapped around your shoulders. The weather grew cold too, shivering your bones so he draped you in his blazer.
“Wait,” You stopped, making him do the same. But before he could ask for your reason, your hands yanked him by his suspenders and your legs walked backward to reach the brick wall. Standing in his 5’11 glory, you were overpowered.
Yet your lips captured his effortlessly, raising to your toes to press yourself closer to him. He moved fast, one arm hugging your waist while the other hoisted your leg up. Tangling around his waist, the urge to move your hips against his crotch couldn’t be contained any longer.
Everyone was probably still out at this time or sleeping. The sloppy sounds you’ve produced were beyond suitable for any audience. Not to mention, the nasty words Jaehyun’s pretty mouth spoke in your ears desired you to fall to your knees.
“Not afraid of getting caught, ma chérie? You want me to ruin you right here, right now?”
“God, Jaehyun,” Your hands tugged his belt forward, the friction it gave to your core twitched the naughty side out of you. “Do it, please.”
The idea of public sex thrilled your mind into overdrive, yet you’ve never done it. In Paris, a city where several people started to know your name, you didn’t need a scandal to be plastered in your resume yet.
Jaehyun himself included, and still opted not to give it to you.
“Another time, ma chérie. Your apartment, now.”
The moment you unlocked your apartment door, Jaehyun was far from gentle like in the mansion. Ripping you out of your frilly dress didn’t take long, so was unbuttoning his trousers down to the floor.
On your knees, his hand gave you a makeshift ponytail as your tongue flicked the slit of his cock. Then slowly taking him inch by inch on your mouth, you’d let out a loud pop when you needed to breathe. Your hands fondling his balls, he groaned from the edge of your bed and tightened his hold on you. Tears formulated in your eyes as you got to swallow him whole, uncontrollably bobbing your head.
He felt like putty when he released, your throat taking the salty base. You hastily unhooked your bra in front of him when suddenly, his hand flicked on the fabric of your panties, cueing you to stop your motion.
“Keep them on when you ride me.”
Straddling on his lap, his head laid against the headboard of his bed. His arms roaming around your back to stabilize you, your fingers pushed your panties to the side as you pushed yourself down his protected length. Your moans became shaky. Up and down, you bounced while bracing on his shoulders.
Against his ear, your moans were harmonious. His hips moved against your beat, hitting your g-spot like the sexual ace he is. His thumb rubbing your clit, you shuttered your eyes at the impending high approaching you like a bus.
“I’m close.” You choked out, the overstimulation overwhelming your nerves.
“Fuck, me too.” He grunted, slapping your butt that made you shriek.
Soon enough, everything hit you both all at once. The knot snapped, and so did your body falling on his chest after a single scream. Panting, Jaehyun pecked on your temple as his cock softened up. Once you returned to your senses, you lifted yourself from his length, laying bare beside him.
His eyes started to fall, but before they did, he muttered huskily. “Je t’aime, (Y/N).”
It was the first time he’s said those words in the way they meant, and he’s more than certain that it’s what he felt with you. Sure, it started as mutual infatuation, but now, it can’t leave. Not on his watch.
Love was a concept unfamiliar to you, but Jaehyun slowly taught you what it was and how it felt like. Books and films may give sneak peeks, but to personally give and receive it back was made possible by him.
From this moment on, you could conclude that yes, you reciprocated it.
“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”
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16 octobre 1957
Autumn made its way to the countryside.
The leaves switched into red-brown shades, the weather in the south was warmer, and the wine harvest was highly anticipated. Jaehyun’s camera was a common item in your outings, taking as many photos as he could so the two of you had something to look back on.
Planned and candid, his range was wide. These were moments that proved that your youth was as happy as you wished it to be. You wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
Painting in his mansion was a regular thing, having new canvases prepared at his patio. There were so many items that amused you there like you could base your entire collection on his home. It’s not like Jaehyun could argue; it meant more time with you whenever you came over.
“Jaehyun, if you smudge paint on me, so help me Go-” He refused to listen to your “threats”, smearing black paint on your cheek.
“You were saying?” He cockily pestered, showcasing his paint-filled fingers. You dipped one of your brushes into the new paint and chased after him without hesitation. The entire evening became a paint war, a laugh fit even after seeing your reflections in the mirror. But before you could clean yourself, Jaehyun’s camera was by your face and he pressed the button.
“Still breathtaking.”
But the middle of the season arrived, that’s where your planned extension you’ve reached its end. The exhibit was next month, getting calls from your boss regarding your return and the paintings you’ll present. You informed her that you already had them mailed to your studio way back, so there’s nothing much to worry about.
All your bags were packed in the private car Jaehyun rented. Here, you’re bidding your goodbyes to every friend you’ve made outside the doors of your apartment complex, saving your last words with Jaehyun.
The night before, he stayed over and helped you pack your last items in luggage bags. He even brought extra clothes for you so you wouldn’t work extra. You’ve talked it out the whole evening through what happens next to ease your worries. In your bed, he opened the wide windows and pulled you under the sheets.
“Write to me.”
“Call me when you’re free, or whenever you feel like it.”
Leaning against the railing of the stairs, watched the sorrow in your face over this parting. He sensed how bittersweet everything was, but he wouldn’t change anything about it. He’s positive that your story won’t end here, not right now.
Sauntering to him, you sighed whilst taking your bag he held the whole time from him. His touch was tighter as the two of you hugged tenderly, nuzzling his head on your shoulder. The scent of his citrus cologne that implanted in your brain felt comforting, despite the uncertainty of everything between you.
You hinted a minty taste from the menthol candies from his home as his lips brushed yours, colliding it timely. He waited when everyone left, relishing these last seconds.
Stepping inside the vehicle, you waved your summer love farewell one more time before the driver hit the pedal. Your eyes couldn’t stray away from looking back, the distance between him and your former apartment widening. Only when he was no longer in the frame, you shifted your focus back in front.
Your fingers fiddled with the charm bracelet he gifted you from the market. It was custom-made by a jeweler who was great friends with his mother in his younger years. There were two pendants chained on it: a paintbrush and the sun.
“A paintbrush to remind you of your passion, and the sun to remind you of the summer we first met.”
The man was like one of his romance books, in human form. He knew how to catch your breath effortlessly.
Your stay, for now, may have concluded, but there was always next summer. And the ones after that. The village felt like a second home, one you can’t neglect like the other places you’ve lived. Then having Jaehyun here, the more reasons to return.
Undoubtedly the best vacation you’ve ever been in your adult years, one that didn’t sacrifice for your art so you could compete with other artists. The weight on your chest poofed into thin air, and you felt ready for what the next steps as a painter were.
Appreciating the greenery you passed by, you peeked over the side mirror of the car only to find Jaehyun quickly biking in your direction.
Now, what was he up to?
You instantly requested the driver to slow down his pace, rolling down the window of the car. Not caring about the strong winds, “You fool, what are you doing?!”
Although he trusted your last words, he had the greed to see your face again. It would be a long time until he’ll see you in person again. So he pedaled as fast he could to still reach you. Oh, the things you do when you’re in love.
“Mon cœur bat la chamade pour toi, (Y/N)!” [My heart beats loudly for you, (Y/N)!]
You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.
“Je reviendrai bientôt, Jaehyun!” (I’ll come back soon, Jaehyun!)
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21 octobre 1957
Only your friends at the studio gave you a warm welcome back, receiving comments like “get back to work” from your first encounter with your boss. Popping a champagne glass open after work hours on the rooftop of your studio, they interrogated you with all the questions they could think of.
“So this village in Provence…. was it beautiful as the tourists said?” Ten, who moved from his home in Thailand to Paris at a young age, expressed his curiosity whilst leaning against the railing overlooking the Eiffel Tower.
“Beautiful is an understatement, Ten. I miss it dearly!” You heaved a sigh, twirling your glass.
“So this inspiration you were looking for…” Amélie, your dear friend since your university days, created some tension as she prolonged her last word. Playfulness twinkled in her eyes, crossing her legs. “Was a person involved by any chance?”
For a moment, your throat almost gagged on the sizzling alcohol going down.
“What do you mean?” You acted clueless, pouring your now empty glass with more booze. But the moment Ten gave you the troublesome look coordinating with Amélie, you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. These two were such gossips in and out of the studio.
Ten took the seat across you on the table and leaked all his pent-up information.
“So you know Seo Youngho, the only son of the Seo family. Rich, socialite, a total hotshot… yeah, all that jazz.” He dived in, seeing you nod over knowing that man. Someone in the past you’ve slept with, but that’s another story. “Well, Amelie and I attended one of his parties at his large penthouse. He had his usual crowd there; Kim Doyoung, Lee Taeyong, Nakamoto Yuta, and Lee Minhyung. But fun fact: there’s another member in that friend group who doesn’t go to these kinds of events.”
“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Amélie excitedly took off like the pipelette (chatterbox) she is. “Youngho, who was talking to us for a bit, asked where you’ve run off. Poor him, he must’ve missed you in his bed but anyway! We told him that you went down south somewhere in Provence for a break. Oddly enough, he mentioned how the mentioned member moved back there for the same reason.”
Ten and Amélie gave each other another frisky look, merely to piss you off. So predictable of them.
“Get to the point please!” You screeched.
“Jeong Jaehyun, ever heard of him?” Amélie imitated your tone of voice. “I mean, you should since you made a whole painting of him.”
“H-How,” Speechless, that’s what you were. Ten went on a fit of giggles, signaling the build-up of his intoxication.
“Youngho visited the studio to find a specific painting for his home, and we helped him in choosing. Then when your deliveries of paintings arrived that day and were unwrapped, the look on his face when he saw Jaehyun’s painting was priceless. Things started to add up, especially when he told us that he called up Jaehyun prior, he said that Jaehyun was seeing a girl during his stay there.”
“A young, burnt-out painter from Paris, to be specific.”
They’ve put you on the edge of the cliff, and it was too close to call it a coincidence. Of all things to be revealed, this had to be the first.
“Well, I was waiting for another time to tell you guys about him though.”
Their gasps of joy could give you guys a noise complaint by the neighbors, telling all about your escapades of him and you. During it, the more you missed seeing him daily either on his bike or his car. It was stuck in your routine, but now it’s reverted to your old one.
Could the next summer come any faster?
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14 février 1958
Perhaps your newest collection at the Louvre was your most successful one yet.
Entitled “Inspirez, Expirez” (Breathe In, Breathe Out), your sceneries during your stay in the village varied. An old couple slow dancing under the night sky, and the quiet district of shops Jaehyun took you, those were some of your last additions.
A multitude of positive reviews on the newspapers and art magazines came in, commending on taking on a fresher, brighter outlook for a change whilst finding your spark again. As fulfilling it was, what you longed the most was the one responsible for it.
Lately, it’s been tough to contact him. His maids always answered the calls, informing you that he was busy with work or family matters. It’s so rare for him to act like this. Whatever it was, it wasn’t grand or serious hopefully.
Back to your collection, tonight was the last night of it. Just in time for Valentine’s day, where numerous socialite lovers embarked on this event, but you’re more fixated that it was also Jaehyun’s birthday. A boy full of love born on the day dedicated for it, things made more sense. In case, you’ve sent your birthday wishes to him through letter and passing the message to one of his maids. Even on his special day, he hasn’t reached out to you.
But to momentarily forget about that, there was a closing ceremony held for this exhibit with the other artists involved, and it was your turn to give your final remarks. More esteemed socialites and journalists were present, which didn’t halt your nerves the slightest. You were a professional after all, holding pride in your craft as you stood in front of the microphone wearing your new favorite custom-made gown.
There are perks when you have close friends in the fashion industry, specifically Kim “Key” Kibum from the House of Key. After defending him from a disrespectful client when you were picking up a dress for your boss during your internship years, not only did you earn his respect, but an invite to his shows and first claiming of new items from his collections. Dining in expensive restaurants in the metro was a plus, catching up on your lives. Sometimes calling each other out for your sexcapades too.
Speaking of him, he was in the crowd that night, ordering every photographer to take photos of your gorgeous self in one of his dresses. Or in your opinion, bribing some by how he stuffed a few thick stacks of Euro bills down their pockets.
Only one of it ever made. A dark green satin v-neck off-the-shoulder gown, where diamonds adorned your neck and ears and white stilettos kept your perfect balance. Also courtesy of Key.
Because it’s the winter season, he gifted you a limited edition white fur coat every socialite tried getting their hands on. Your hair was styled in a bun, emphasizing your dark tinted lips from this new lipstick Amelie insisted you buy.
Most people would get the first impression that you were one of the socialites, a child from one of the affluent families even. But you were a lot more remarkable than that, having inborn talent in the arts that you specialized over your youth and rising to the top without any parental help.
“Thank you to everyone for their endless support towards the magnificent collections of each artist present. As for mine, I am grateful to rechannel my creative side by taking a break. Rather than romanticizing overworking our bones to the core, there’s nothing wrong with taking a step back from the pressure. Being alive is a blessing, realizing further how our youth won’t stay with us forever. Being away from the boisterous cities, I found relaxation in the countryside of Provence.”
Your lips quirked into a grin as every single memory during that time reeled in your head like a movie. “The beauty of Provence cannot be simply put in words. The muses I’ve encountered were more than lovely, especially the man behind the Poetic Rose. With that, I sincerely thank everyone from my bottom of my heart and I hope to continue to support me in the years to come.”
The applause roared once you stepped down the platform, shaking hands with every esteemed guest with more gratitude as they praised you. These days, socializing with them was a lot easier. You’ve even taken more initiative to greet people first before they do, conversing with them easily about anything.
Key definitely noticed that as you toured him around your section, holding his nth glass of wine for the night.
“You, Madame (Y/N), transformed into a social butterfly.” He nudged your shoulder, smirking once he got a better view of his favorite painting from you. “I guess that’s the thing when you’re in love.”
“I beg your pardon?”
With this free hand, he motioned it up and down at the painting in front of you. “The Poetic Rose is none other than the youngest son of the Jeong family, whom I’ve met through his older sister, Krystal.”
“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know him?!” You stressed, jokingly. Key was elated to capture you in his trap, the changes of your personality too evident in his eyes. Figuring it out that it was love took a while, but being acquainted with Krystal, she’s the one who told him that her younger brother was in love with a painter in Provence. Do the math.
“I’ve met him through his older sister, one of my highly favored clients. He’s not much of a socialite like her, so I don’t really blame you for that.”
Searching for a waiter to refill your wine glasses, a surprise emerged the both of you.
“Madame Krystal, you’re absolutely stunning.”  Key complimented her, giving the engaged heiress of Jeong Tea Inc. kisses on the cheek as respect. Her recent engagement to Kim Donghyun, her childhood sweetheart and also the heir of Kim Couture, was the talk of the town.
They arrived at the event together, drawing the attention of everyone in the room earlier. Now, he was speaking to a few influential socialites he made a deal with this week about the art collections present.
“Key, you never fail to look fantastic,” She remarked positively, poking his necktie before placing her undivided attention on you. “So you must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’re beyond bewildering in that gown.”
“Flattered to hear that, Madame Krystal. Such a pleasure to meet you.”
The three of you chatted as if you were the only people there. From art, passion, and love, pride filled in your chest when you toured your collection. It was like walking down memory lane for her, adding out how she used to climb the peach tree with her younger brother during their childhood. Once her eyes laid on Poetic Rose, she took her time admiring it.
“My younger brother grew up well. That’s all I could ever hope for as his only older sister.” She paused, noticing how silent you became when you stared at the painting along with her. She observed the passion lit in your eyes, yet there was longing behind it by the way your lips pouted briefly. “You must really love him, do you?”
“I do, truly. After meeting him, not only was I boosted with so much ideas, but my heart embraced him for what and who he is in this universe.” You professed confidently, earning an approving smile from Krystal.
“If that’s how you feel, why not tell him that yourself?”
Her fingers gestured you to turn around. Stood in a grey suit with his brown hair slicked back, it was like seeing a completely new person. A handsome one though. His fashion in the countryside heavily differed from his fashion in the cities. So sophisticated and refined, he looked like a prince straight out of a fairytale.
Your fairytale.
“Jaehyun.”
It’s like everything stopped once he sprinted towards you, pulling you off your feet for a snug hug. Your arms threw themselves on his neck by instinct, not wasting a single second in his grasp. Your nose inhaled the woody scent of his cologne, something more formal than his usual fruity scent.
The smell of aftershave in his jaw couldn’t go ignored either, assuming that he must have had plans to go out tonight. Nonetheless, you squealed as if you were back in Provence, giggling at his boldness. Once he put you down, neither of you could get your hands off each other.
“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you’d be in Paris!” Clutching your waist, you gazed at him with doe-like eyes, instilling confusion.
“J’ai voulu te surprendre, my chérie.” (I wanted to surprise you, my darling.)
He chuckled, pushing some straying strands of your hair behind your ear. His eyes evoked so much endearment towards this elegant look you prepared, making his heart race as if he were in the gardens of his manor again.
Hearing his petname for you again attacked your heart every time no matter how much time passed, he lifted your chin high. Jaehyun urged himself to kiss you senseless right there, leaning lower. And yes, you anticipated it by how your eyes instantly closed.
Only if it weren’t for Krystal to clear her throat, obviously ruining the mood. Flinching away from your sensual lover, you rubbed the nape of your neck. Towards an heiress like her, it must’ve been unprofessional.
“Couldn’t you at least wait until I left, younger brother?” Her fingers flicked Jaehyun’s forehead, a teasing trick they used to do as kids. Even if she was a lot shorter now, it didn’t mean the impact was weak. He cursed under his breath, covering his forehead.
Stifling your laughter was a failure, crinkling your eyes to unleash your emotions. So this is what their sibling dynamic was like?
“Now excuse me, older sister. You didn’t tell me you were visiting the exhibit after my birthday dinner with our parents?” He crossed his arms, exchanging a judgmental look. For his sake, he wanted to maintain his pride. “All you said after dinner was that you were going straight home with your fiancé after all the alcohol mother gave you because it made you lightheaded.”
“Well, you know Key and his persuasiveness. He insisted I attend this event last minute because all the collections were amazing.” She explained, shedding a subtle glance at you. “Plus, it’s an excuse to finally meet this lovely girl you raved so much through your letters.”
Jaehyun kept his family life private, so this piece of information was new to you. The unpredicted way the fluttering feeling drew in your stomach, all you could do was smile from the flattery.
“He spoke about me to you?”
“More than speak, my dear. He practically professed his love for you, asking me advice on how to court a girl, make them smile, etcetera. You’re the first girl he’s been this affectionate with, and I completely understand now.” She patted your shoulder, hopeful. She had such a strong older sister vibe, reminding you of your older siblings back home. “You’re a clever, talented woman. I look forward to seeing you more often.”
As you nodded in approval, she turned towards her brother with her recurring teasing look. “Yah, Jaehyun. You better take care of her. If she ever sheds a tear because of you, I’m hunting you down in the gardens.”
“Harsh of you, Krystal.” He planted his hand on his chest, feigning pain. “But no worries. Having you and mother around me kept me well-mannered towards women growing up.”
Playfulness aside, Krystal felt honored towards her younger brother. Men these days maintained their sexist beliefs and rudeness, especially those who doubted her high position in the family business once her father stepped down. Nowadays, it’s men like Jaehyun who could really challenge the patriarchy and make women pursue a lot more than being limited as a housewife.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Now please excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”
Krystal waltzed her way out without tripping from her slight intoxication, which Jaehyun worried about earlier. But anyway, that left him alone with you. Filled with so many questions, you didn’t know where to start.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Paris? Why didn’t you acknowledge my birthday wishes to you? Why aren’t you answering my calls and letters?” You blurted without wasting a breath, weren’t trying to come off as needy, but it became peculiar when he was contacting you like usual.
You pushed off thinking of the worst scenarios, not wanting it to ruin your drive and your emotions either. Yet you trusted Jaehyun enough to know he wasn’t the type of person either.
“Okay slow down, ma chérie.” His hands maneuvered for you to stop for a bit. “Ask me one by one and I’ll give you a solid answer for each while we roam around.”
He arrived in Paris last week, which was initially for work. Then his birthday clashing was a coincidence. It would be too lonely to go home and celebrate his special day alone, so he extended. But again, it’s his work that caused his abrupt contact.
When you were too busy delving into the success of recovering your inspiration, he also found his spur to write again too. Day and night, his mind kept him tedious with an endless trail of thoughts and words. Overall, he finalized it then brought the end product to the same publishing house where his books in the past went through.
In fact, he decided to publish them specifically today on his birthday. The only day in his itinerary he planned, where after publishing, he’d hang out with his friends, have dinner with his family then run off to reunite with you.
“I didn’t intend to make you feel like a second choice, so please forgive me for that, ma chérie.”
“All is forgiven, Jaehyun.” You held both his hands, kissing them tenderly out of habit. “I’m overjoyed that you rekindled your creative side again.”
You were so understanding and empathetic, and Jaehyun aimed to act that way too. He learned so much from you as his friend before being his lover. Quickly enough, you’re both back to his portrait in the center. Like a critic, he narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose. Tapping his chin with his finger,
“This man in Poetic Rose, he’s quite dashing.” He commented with conceit, walking closer to it to view it better. “His freckles are on point, his dimples and dazzling eyes too. Why exactly is he described as a Poetic Rose?”
“Well sir,” You stood beside him, imitating his actions. “This man here always spoke so eloquently, like he had a very poetic approach on life. He reminded me also of a rose by his rosy tinted cheeks and his beauty. He was alluring inside and out.”
“Is he your favorite muse?”
“I never quoted him as a muse because he’s more than that. Muses can be replaced once they no longer serve purpose towards the artist. Though with him, he’s the never-ending flame that I want to keep for the rest of time."
You held on to his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. The apparent reddening of his ears proved that he was flustered, yet you spoke no lies.
“Joyeux anniversaire, ma flamme.” (Happy birthday, my flame.)
“Merci beaucoup, ma chérie.” (Thank you, my darling.)
Something about his new release piqued your attention so you brought it up again.
“So tell me about your new book.”
“Let me show you instead.” Inside the blazer, there was an inner pocket that sealed a small hardbound book. Taking it out, he handed it over to you. “This is your copy.”
The cover of the book had an illustration of two young adults running down the fields under the bright sun, with the title written in cursive and placed in the center.
“L’Été de 1957.” (The Summer of 1957.)
Like a child who received a new gift in the mail, you flipped the book open. Seeing the table of contents and credits to other important people involved in the process, there was a detailed dedication right before the starting chapter. It’s an unexpected page, noticing that he never put anything like this in his last works.
“Pour ma chérie, qui a peint les couleurs manquantes de ma vie.” (For my darling, who painted the missing colors of my life.)
Although Jaehyun planned to write about the couples he met in the countryside, he chose to change his perspective. Instead, he based this new book on your summer romance, installing more original characters who made your romance blossom more.
“I was once so engaged in listening to people’s love stories, hung up on what they felt.” He expounded, pacing around the floor whilst you skimmed through the pages. There were black and white photos from your adventures too to wrap the reader further in the story.
“While I was struggling to find the next story, I realized late that my story with you was a perfect choice. When I fell in love with you, it’s like I didn’t have to fret anymore about anything. Everything slowly yet surely aligned into place for me. Like how we found inspiration in each other.”
A poetic speaker meant having a poetic, wise mind. You kept an open mind whenever Jaehyun shared his thoughts on life with you, an intimate time that didn’t require using your bodies. Whether you were stargazing or drinking wine by his patio, his soulful personality never changed.
“So I recapped every single memory we had and compiled them,” He resumed, taking a closer step towards yours. His warm hands grasped your waist again, catching a glimpse of your astonished face. Mostly, towards your lips that he missed feeling against his.
“This book expressed my own take on love this time, the one I want to grow in.”
You’d care less if you dropped the book and your coat right there, your major desire to kiss him again was driving your senses to the edge of a cliff. Nothing could’ve braced yourself the second you fervently collided your lips with his. It didn’t feel like you were in this exhibit, but somewhere back in his mansion engulfed in each other’s presence.
Your legs almost melted by your daring move, if it weren’t for Jaehyun’s arm moving upwards to your back to stabilize you more. Your body tingled with goosebumps due to his relaxing fingers all over your body. His tongue caved in your lips, and you couldn’t ban its access.
Such an explicit sight, it felt forbidden as you were inches away from the public crowd. Yet it was the least of your worries if they made a big fuss over it. Jaehyun was here again with you, and that was more valuable to you. He savored every trace of your touches, taking his delicate time with you. No past birthday could defeat this, especially when it’s the first one to celebrate with you. The first of many.
As much you wanted to keep this up for hours, your lungs started feeling constricted of air so your lips timidly let go. Though your hands couldn’t, your overwhelmed eyes couldn’t shift away from the heart-stopping view of your lover. Wherein even after such a fearless session, his eyes fused with love and need with his plumper lips.
“Everything about Provence, especially you, that’s the life I want.” You confessed this concealed secret that’s revolved your head for a while now. Yet its certainty was true.
“Are you sure, ma chérie? What about work?” As an artist, he believed you should stay where everything is accessible. Yet as his woman, he wanted you to follow your heart. Jaehyun didn’t want you to choose or struggle.
“I’ve grown out from the idea that the city life was the only life meant of an artist like me.” You replied, confident enough to discuss it after deep thought. “Cities like Paris hold exciting, vigorous flames that will have you clinging on to them. But then, they’ll eventually die the longer you stay. You get burned in the process too. However, I stand by what I said earlier. I found an endless flame when I met and began loving you, Jaehyun. It doesn’t sting at all; it illuminates strongly every living day.”
Urging him to lower his stance with your fingers, you stated one last phrase. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”
“If that’s the case,” Jaehyun acknowledged, sticking his arm out for you. “Let’s get out of here.”
Astounded expressions crowded the socialites in the event as they watched the both of you exit together. If the news of Krystal and Donghyun weren’t crazy enough, some journalists figured the mysterious man behind The Poetic Rose and spread it like wildfire.
How was the youngest son of the Jeong family turned renowned romance novel author connected to the impressive, up-and-coming painter from London?
What really went down in Provence?
“How can you miss out on the signs? Did you not see them share a kiss earlier?” Key protested to those who weren’t approving whatever relationship you guys had. He loved his tea but hated those who simply were money hungry. Wanting a chance to be a part of the rich family, only to fish them out of their riches sooner or later.
Meanwhile, the winter season didn’t stop any of you from roaming the streets of Paris. Moments like these were a preview of the future you’ve envisioned with Jaehyun. Youthful, free, and fiery, a love between two artists created more magic not just in their crafts but to those around them.
Promenading a street overlooking the Seine River, Jaehyun took out a smaller instant camera from his pocket and took a candid shot of you. Stunned, you slapped his chest with your bag.
“Hey! Just how many more things are hidden in your blazer?”
“Just my wallet and a few condoms. Why’d you ask?” He raised a suggestive brow, feigning good intentions.
You hummed, faking your deep thought mindset. “At this rate, I don’t think we’ll make it back to my apartment alive.”
Jaehyun tugged you by your coat, his lips hovering your ear to whisper. “If we call a cab right now, I can finger you in the backseat.”
You chuckled at his vulgar idea, but it seemed ideal. You loved the thrill of getting caught or having someone overhearing you two, just like him. Besides, his fingers don’t match up to yours when you touch yourself alone in your apartment. You bat your eyelashes, giving in.
“Deal.”
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6 ans plus tard (1964)
Summer returned, the sun strongly smiling down to the plentiful flowers at your family garden. By the patio of your home, your canvas was already laid by the easel stand. Shades of yellow were applied first to symbolize the brightness of the day, following the outline of your desired scenery for this piece.
Dipping the brush in water to change colors, you took another glance at the breezy sky. Light blue with clouds resembling soft pillows, you inhaled gently as your brush faintly stroked the canvas again.
Your hair was tied in a bun, meaning that you’re in for a busy session. But a more soothing one as the jazz music flowed from the vinyl player inside. Stress was the last thing you needed right now.
“What’s madame artiste up to right now?” Your husband piped in from behind, placing down a tray of tea and crackers. With some top buttons of his white top left unattended, you glimpsed on his toned chest when he leaned down. But you mustn’t pry whilst working, even when temptation was calling your name repeatedly.
“The summer sunshine healed me of my discomfort, so I think it’s about time I painted again.” You chewed on the snack, looking back and forth to the view. As enchanting as all the flowers you and him planted over the years grew, you’re more amused by a little boy strolling around it with his magnifying glass and tiny wooden basket with his furry puppy by his side.
His tiny legs often troubled the two of you because he enjoyed spending time with nature. Only God knows what he found in the garden this time.
“Adrien est explorer encore. Devrais-je lui dire qu’il change de place, ma chérie?” (Adrien is exploring again. Should I tell him to change places, my darling?) Jaehyun cautiously asked, not wanting his 3 year old son to impair your perspective.
“Non,” (No,) You held on to his hand, kissing it sweetly. Although you peeved any unnecessary details found in your scenery in the past, Adrien was an exception. As his mother, it’s hard to say no to him unless necessary.
“Il est un garçon curieux, alors il devrait explorer et flâner où il veut.” (He’s a curious boy, so he should explore and wander wherever he wants.)
Life ever since you returned to the countryside shifted into something more precious than you imagined. From moving places constantly, you found a home to settle in for good. A home with overflowing love and inspiration. A home within Jeong Jaehyun.
Recently, you halted your work-related activities in Paris and came home because you were heavily homesick. It even affected your health as a whole. So you made adjustments with your schedules, postponing appearances to events to next year.
On the plus side, you could be more active as a mother to Adrien. It felt like you burdened Jaehyun to take care of Adrien most of the time because he mainly worked from home, wherein important people who wanted to meet him would have to fly out to the countryside.
Back and forth to Paris, your presence towards Adrien often lacked. Here came your biggest fear, which was Adrien forgetting you. But Jaehyun told you over and over again that it wasn’t the case. As he listened to every wrenching thought you had, but he’d combat it with heartfelt words of reassurance so you wouldn’t overanalyze things.
He vowed to love and take care of you when times get hard, and he will continue doing so.
Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?
It no longer did after getting married.
It gave more room to grow and breathe more life into it. When Adrien was born, he was the prime reflection of your and Jaehyun’s love. He mirrored his father’s physical traits but with a daring personality like yours. A perfect mixture, the world worked amazingly to bring a boy like him into your life.
“Maman! Papa!” Adrien bolted to where you and Jaehyun stood. From the clothes he wore, it’s very much clear that his father was in charge of it whilst you slept in the entire morning. Suspenders, capri shorts, a white shirt, and a red beret, he deserved his title as Jaehyun’s mini-me.
Jaehyun swelled with pride and love for his only son, peeking over what he brought to show and tell you both. “Oh Adrien, what do you have for us today?”
In his basket, there were 3 sunflowers stuck out from the edge. It’s been a while since you’ve seen some in full bloom, lowering your stance to get a more vivid view. He took them out to hand them to you and your husband.
One flower for Jaehyun and two for you. You let out a gasp, scrunching your brows to the center. He always gave one of each item to you and Jaehyun, never more or less.
“Ooh, deux fleurs pour Maman. Pourquoi, Rien?” (Ooh, two flowers for Mama. Why, Rien?) Jaehyun let his nickname out for his lips while you grasped his small hand.
“Well, I heard from Olivier next door that on his birthday, he gave extra flowers to his mother so he could have another sibling. And it worked!” He spoke so innocently, yet it hitched a choke from Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes widened from disbelief. The information he collected due to his curiosity, no boundaries truly.
“Le mois prochain, c’est mon anniversaire. Je me demandais si je peux avoir un frère ou sœur comme Olivier? Tu es toujours occupée, comme Papa. Je ne veux plus être seul, alors je veux une amie aussi.” (It’s my birthday next month, and I was wondering if I can have a sibling like Olivier? You are always busy, like Papa. I don’t want to be alone anymore, so I want a friend too.)
You exchanged looks with Jaehyun, not knowing how exactly to respond. Although you and Jaehyun did agree that you wanted more than one child when you were younger, neither of you brought it up again since your careers were always loaded with plans.
Adrien was a surprise child actually, conceived on the night where you and Jaehyun celebrated after L’Été de 1957 was announced to be the best-selling romance novel of the decade in the country.
In Paris at his family home, where his parents brought out all their prized liquor, the two of you drank the entire night away to the point Krystal and Donghyun had to push you away from each other from your public affections because their children were present.
But it didn’t stop you two once you reached his bedroom, far away from everything and everyone. And you’ll never change it.
“Oh, Rien,” You eased in, consoling him. “Je suis désolé. Mais c’est franchement une grande demande, n'est-ce pas?” (I am sorry. But that’s quite a big request, right?)
“Mom and I will think about it first, okay? Another kid is a big responsibility, and you’ll be their older brother. That’s another important job, can you do it well?”
“Yes, I can, Papa!” He beamed with glee, his covered head patted by his father after. As you placed the sunflowers beside your palette, Adrien then proceeded to ask you if he could paint with you like old times.
Never you refuse especially with his sparkling round eyes and chubby face that makes you want to squish every time.
As you lifted his light body to sit on your lap, you placed your brush between his stubby fingers and carefully aimed in whatever angle seemed fit so the painting process would run smoothly and perfectly. He let out sounds of amazement when the strokes get bigger, jumping slightly too because the picture became more vivid. You’d smile and coo at him, commending whenever he followed instructions well. As his mother, you only encouraged your child in whatever they want to excel in.
Adrien was the child of two artists, so it was only natural that he had an artistic side in his veins.
Too caught up in your fun, hearing the automatic shutter of the camera from your side was delayed. The source was none other than Jaehyun hiding behind his camera. Jaehyun’s heart soared at the heavenly view of the most important people in his life, wanting to treasure the moment as a lovely memory.
“Hey!” You shouted, placing down the messy brush by the palette. “Je suis très laid!” (I am very ugly!)
“Shh! Tu est rayonnant, ma chérie. Papa est juste, Rien?” (Shh! You are glowing, my darling. Papa is right, Rien?)
Jaehyun politely quizzed the peppy boy, nodding excitedly. His dimples deeply showed up, the main trait he claimed from his father.
“Oui, papa! Maman est toujours belle!” (Yes, papa! Mama is always beautiful!)
He exclaimed, pecking your cheek numerously. You squealed, attacking him with tickles and kisses back. His shouts of delight, then he was suddenly carried by your tall husband in the air like he was flying in the sky. Adrien enjoyed that motion highly, ending up on Jaehyun’s shoulders shortly after to play by the garden again.
“Go paint. I’ll take care of him now.” Jaehyun persuaded, roaming through the long rows of flowers in full bloom. Though seconds after adding some strokes to your piece, you let down your hair, put a hat and sandals on, and ran to the cute duo to join them.
And that’s how your family spent the entire afternoon. By the garden, running around and taking photos and short videos from Jaehyun’s camera. Freezing these valuable memories, this was truly the life you loved so much.
After your break, you could convince the company you worked at that you’d prefer fewer trips to Paris and stay in the countryside longer. How badly you’ve wanted to hold your exhibits here instead. Plus like Jaehyun, let influential people visit you. You’ve already made a big name for yourself now, so that should be valid enough.
Dinner time passed by quickly too, eventually putting Adrien to a smooth slumber as you massaged the roots of his soft hair while Jaehyun sang him a lullaby. This was your joint parenting technique with him since he was a newborn, and it worked quickly as lightning.
You redressed into your silk nightgown after bringing your canvas to the master bedroom, opening the balcony doors to invite the cool breeze in. You tweaked some bits of your painting, including a silhouette of your small family. Regarding where to place it, probably by the living room as it matched the theme.
“What a spectacular day, don’t you think, ma chérie?” Jaehyun conversed, admiring the calm movements of your brush. He noticed a quirky smile grace your lips.
“It’s been a long time since we had quality time like that with Rien. He’s a feisty ball of energy these days.” You replied with a nostalgic daze. “It’s so crazy how one day, he was still crawling to us. Now, he could outrun the both of us.”
“Comme le temps passe vite, hmm?” (How time flies fast, hmm?) Nodding, nothing braced for what your husband had in mind. You almost dropped your brush mid-way. Jaehyun’s lips impatiently devoured your neck, his huge hands fondling your breasts. Violently throwing your head back against his chest, a needy moan parted your lips.
“Jae-” His touches reaching south to where you desired him highly, dampening hastily as your legs naturally spread apart. Rushed exhales, “À quoi tu penses maintenant?” (What are you thinking about right now?)
“Rien se sent seul,” (Rien feels alone,) His hot breath whispered against your ear, his fingers dangerously trailing your thin panties up and down. With your hands tightly clutching on his bicep,
“Alors, donnons-lui une amie.” (We should give him a friend.)
Ever since Adrien mentioned such a daring topic, it hasn’t left Jaehyun’s mind the whole day. After seeing you in utter bliss with your son earlier, he found you so majestic and radiant. It’s a different kind of happiness, especially for parents.
Now you went on hiatus, he thought that it was the right time to have another. He enjoyed his younger years with Krystal, and he wanted Adrien to experience it too. 3 years was quite a wait, and it seemed ideal to try again.
From his nude chest, you flipped around to intensely clash his lips with yours. Draping your arms behind his neck, Jaehyun lifted your entire figure from the chair. His hands gripping on your butt, he delicately lowered you down your bed.
Drowning into his sensual kisses with his hands all over you, this could prolong for hours. Reddening love marks started to resurface whilst your fingers tugged on the drawstring of his pajama pants. Jaehyun’s fingers dove under the fabric of your panties, his index finger rubbing figure 8s the sensitive bundle of nerves.
You struggled to swallow your moans, not wanting Rien to hear it. You wouldn’t want to repeat history, covering it as Jaehyun massaging you after a hard day.
“I know you want one too, ma chérie.” His fingers began to drape down the straps of your gown, presenting your breasts in its full, perky view. But before his lips could suck on your erect nipples, you parted momentarily from him and got up on your feet. Pulling up your straps again, Jaehyun simply laid down but he wasn’t pleased from how you left him hanging.
“Où vas-tu, ma chérie?” (Where are you going, sweetheart?)
He was growing impatient. You were never to interrupt such a sexy atmosphere ever.
From one of your drawers in your vanity table, an important, half-opened envelope was hidden. You were supposed to give it tomorrow but now seemed like a perfect time. Reading it as soon one of the maids handed it to you gave you the jitters, but in a positive way. Sitting back down on the edge of your bed, you exhilaratingly passed it to your husband.
“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” (What is this?)
“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)
Jaehyun slowly opened the edges and once he took out the contents. Reading it thoroughly, he couldn’t believe it as his jaw dropped, pacing from the letter and you back and forth.
“Vraiment, ma chérie?” (Really, my darling?)
It was from a doctor you visited in Paris a few days before you left, who confirmed just exactly what caused your health to go feeble suddenly. You already had one certain suspicion, which you addressed in your leave of absence letter. Amelié, who finally got the position as the head, couldn’t believe her ears and insisted you take all the time off you needed.
“On dirait que Adrien a reçu son cadeau d'anniversaire en avance.” (It looks like Adrien received his birthday gift early.)
Overall, it turned out the headaches and repeated vomiting you mistook as motion sickness from traveling was a surprise hello to your second child.
A girl specifically, thanks to the blood test she recommended.
“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”
“Montre moi combien tu m’aimes, Jaehyun.” (Show me how much you love me, Jaehyun.)
The whole night through, the two of you vigorously celebrated with the moonlight from the windows and a few scented candles set in the room. Wet kisses left on your collarbone, words of devotion exchanged, holding his hand as he groaned from heartily thrusting in you, the number of moans from your lips overlapped with the vinyl playing in the room. The intimacy between you two increased, almost as if you made love for the first time again all those years ago.
Excluding being drenched from the rain.
Once the two of you grew tired, Jaehyun lied down beside you. Wrapping one arm around, one hand trailed down your naked skin again. His wedding band flashed your eyes, reminding you of the commitment you promised each other. For better, and for worse.
Jaehyun promised to love you endlessly as a woman and his wife, and it didn’t cease when you became the mother of his children. He respected how strong you are, physically and mentally. He helped you in any way he could as you endured the struggling process.
At the end of the day, his family was his biggest priority. More than ever now, you needed him as you go through the pregnancy phases again. Specifically, his index finger lingered on your stomach. There was no bump or other signs of showing, except for that glow he complimented you earlier on.
“We met and fell in love over the summer, got married in summer, had Adrien mid-summer, and now found out about our daughter at the start of summer.” He smiled, blessed at all the good he’s received during this time.
“The summer gods must adore us.” Your vacant hand with your wedding band topped his. To love and to cherish. “Ils m'ont amené à toi.” (They brought me to you.)
His power on you was simply addicting, as if your early twenties revisited you. You straddled himself once again, your fingers caressing his face sweetly. When it reached his lips, he placed longing kisses there and pulled you closer again for another kiss on your lips. In between, you mumbled in a silvery tone,
“Then they led us to say I do. Pour toujours et à jamais.”
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copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.
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sunsents · 3 years
Text
The Cardigan - F.W 18+
My first ever post and it's a goddamn smut one shot. This has been in my Wattpad drafts for way too long (wrote it three-four months ago), it's not the best, and I'm not proud of the writing but et eez what et eez. I really wan't to start publishing my work and gotta start somewhere. Also the smut is shitty, and the dirty talk is just goddamn vile. Also I'm a horny mf.
Summary ---> "Is that mine? You look better in it than me, that's for sure." An intimate night with Fred after you guys find the house all to yourselves. This is just pure filth, like scroll if you wan't plot. 🌚
Pairing: fred weasley/fem!reader
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: smut / overstim if u squint / cursing / thigh tiding / dirty talk / fred being a horny little shit / an attempt at innuendos / hand-job / cum play (?) / like one ass slap
Rating: 18+
DON'T REPOST MY WORK
The bathroom at the Weasley's were quite cramped, but you didn't care. Your shower was more than satisfactory, the wavering smell of Mrs. Weasley cooking downstairs mixing with the wonderful scent of Fred's shampoo. The hot water loosened all your fatigued muscles - those extra hours out on the field playing Quidditch was worth it - your muscles were taut, flexing wonderfully whenever you lifted your arm to rinse off the products in your hair.
When you opened the door of the bathroom, clouds of hot air escaping and surrounding the small corridor, you were surprised to hear no footsteps, loud chattering of your friends and the usual plates clinking in the kitchen. You figured going downstair naked wouldn't be a good idea, and entered Ginny's room.
The disheveled bedroom was empty, and you looked out the window to the vast garden and wheat fields that got darker with the hot summer night approaching. There was no sign of anyone and you were starting to get anxious. Maybe it was because of the unusual silence - the Weasley household always had some kind of chaos happening - nevertheless, you quickly slipped on some satin shorts and a soft, white knit sweater to keep the evening breezes at bay. After swiftly drying your hair with a towel - you were letting it air dry, Cosmopolitan said Cindy Crawford did it - you applied whatever product was routine for your body and left the room.
Your magical radio was playing a soft jazz from the den and immediate relief washed over you when you stepped downstairs. The creams and perfumes that stuck to your skin wafted around the air and filled the rooms with delicious essences, and your soft socks slipped and slid across the wooden floor to the kitchen as you pushed yourself with ease. You quickly caught yourself with a chair and laughed, being alone wasn't so bad, you figured you could find ways to entertain yourself.
Until, a low chuckle from the den caused you to yelp and almost fall on your ass, merlin forbid. You couldn't bear another injury after George two left feet Weasley accidentally kicked you on the shin while playing Quidditch.
Speaking of Weasley, Fred Weasley was sprawled out on the couch, wearing only his boxers and a long, loosely knitted cardigan sitting on his exposed skin. You felt your mouth water, his head was lazily thrown back, exposing his curved neck and Adam's apple, his freckles more noticeable than ever. He was staring at you, his lips tugging a smile and enjoying the show you put on. Humiliation, is what it was. You were sliding around floorings like Madame Maxine on ice.
Your blood suddenly felt on like liquid fire, and you opened the cupboards to get yourself a glass of water. "Aguamenti," you casted, and from the corner of your eye you saw Fred's gaze set on your exposed legs, trailing up to your ass that was slightly exposed from the length of your shorts. They rode up more when you stood on your toes to place the cup back on the shelf after chugging the liquid down and muttering a cleaning spell.
"Is that mine?" you cleared your throat, finishing up in the kitchen and walking over to one of the rocking chairs. You didn't know why Fred was sitting around practically naked - you didn't question because he was Fred Weasley and you were tired. You weren't complaining etiher.
"Yeah," Fred said breathlessly. "It's surprisingly comfortable."
"You look better than me in it, that's for sure." You chuckled darkly, eyeing his provocative muscles. The hickeys you had left from a few days ago were slightly healed, soft reds trailing his nape and they weren't helping the growing desire between your legs. "Where is everyone?" you asked.
Fred quickly noticed your poorly hidden lustful stares and moved the cardigan away with a sly smirk, revealing more of his abs and flexed thighs. "They went out to Diagon Ally, won't be back until ten." he said. You nodded then took a deep, shaky breath and picked up a magazine from the coffee table. You settled in your mind that maybe looking through the new season Versace bikinis would calm your lust.
Fred let out a long, erotic sigh, allowing a soft groan to escape his lips along the way. Your hand twitched, you were still oblivious to his intentions and crossed your legs for some friction. "Hey ____," Fred called out, and you hummed in response, not looking up from your magazine. You seemed to have read the same line five times now. "I think there's something in my eye, can you blow on it."
Your eyes went wide, Fred was vulgar. This was no surprise to you after dating him for almost two years, but saying something so shamelessly, no hesitation still made your heart stutter. Your imagination was running wild now, you pictured every single thing you wished to do to him at this moment, in those clothes. You quickly put your magazine down, more of slapped it on the table. "Sure, yeah." you said in a shaky voice, then stood up and walked over to him.
Fred's arms were wide on the couch, and one of them pulled your hand down when he was able to reach you. Your heart stopped for a moment, you felt herself land harshly on his thigh and the impact on your core caused a groan from the back of your throat to slip out.
Fred was rather enjoying himself, his head lazily leaning back on the pillow as he rubbed your thighs up and down, digging the pads of his fingers into your skin and causing an embarrassingly load of your juices to flow to your newly worn panties.
You readjusted yourself so the heat between your legs weren't in direct contact with his thigh. You scooted closer and had to bite back a moan when Fred jerked his leg up and applied pressure on your clit. You were trying your best not to show his effect on you, "Which eye." you hissed through gritted teeth, still pursuing his obvious lie.
Fred's shit eating grin only grew wider, and he took your hand and placed it right on his crotch. He was hard beneath his boxers, swelling bigger the second and you were fighting the urge to palm his cock. You shot him a warning look to which he playfully frowned, then gestured to his right eye. You leaned in closer, maybe he really did have something in his eye.
Fred's breathing was heavy, fanning over your lips as you tried to take a closer look. Your inspection was cut short when he gripped your waist, riding up your sweater to touch you directly. You gasped and straightened up at his rough hands kneading around your stomach. Chills were racing down your spine, you didn't want to give in just yet, just for teasing purposes, but Fred was making it unbelievable hard with his tousled hair and hooded eyes boring into yours.
Your panties felt soaked and you hoped he wouldn't notice, but when Fred gripped your shorts and pulled them down, his eyes fell on the wet fabric that was stuck to your entrance. You were painfully aware of how aroused you were, and your heated cheeks weren't helping with your embarrassment.
Fred licked his lips - his expression lust crazed - then he gripped one of your legs and guided it around his thighs, making you straddle him. He held both of your thighs and pulled you in closer, and when your knee touched his boner, it caused him to groan lowly and attempt to close the small gap between your two bodies.
You marveled at the idea of being any more closer to him, the aching on your lower abdomen making you grind yourself on his thigh, whimpering at the much needed friction. The scene looked erotic to you, Fred's finger had slithered down to your panties and moved them to the side to expose all of you, flushed and swollen. He gripped your waist again and started rocking your body on his thigh, "Ride my thigh baby, wan't you to get off on me," he said huskily, "Slow and good~"
You didn't know what else to do other than nod as much agreeable a nod could get. Fred started guiding your hips at a slow pace, not letting you fasten it once. He tutted when you tried for the second time, "Stop being impatient my love." he crooned, straightening himself up to finally meet your lips.
But you barely responded.
You were slack-jawed, your clit swollen painfully, your hips swiveling to get more contact. Pathetic really, is what it was. Fred said few words of filth and here you were, panting and rutting, thanking whoever up there to have the opportunity to ride Fred's obscenely attractive thigh. A thigh shouldn't be this attractive you thought, his skin warm and comfortable, generous muscles teasingly helping you get off. Emphasis on teasingly, he wouldn't let you have anything that easily. It was heaven and hell all at once.
Fred was sensually tracing the outline of your mouth with his tongue all the while, then dipped down and feathered kisses on your jaw that was just as slow as his pace. "Fuck, you're so filthy for this. Who knew this is all it took?" he groaned.
"You have such a responsive cunt babe, I can do whatever I want and you just lose it. Fuck-"
You were growing more frustrated the second and Fred was getting rather talkative, he ran his nose down your collarbones, sucking the supple skin into his mouth and leaving crimson marks. "Freddie please - just, mmmh!" you cried out a strangled moan, you had finally gotten what you wanted. You knew Fred could never resist the nickname, and in such a tone too.
He had started to rub your clit, his other arm wrapping around the small of your back protectively. He groaned against your neck, sending shockwaves of pleasure trailing from your marked neck all down to your feet. But Fred wasn't stupid, he had caught on rather soon and chuckled.
"Bad girl." he mocked, then gave you a light smack on your ass, causing you to yelp and jump. You landed harshly on Fred's thigh again and the moan you let out was almost painful. You clutched onto his hair as he gripped your waist and continued to rock you on his thigh.
You let him guide your movement, your juices easily allowing you to slide yourself back and forth on him, and whenever Fred would pull you forward he would apply pressure on your clit by gripping your waist tighter and pushing you down. He fastened his pace with every grind, and every huff of air you let out when your hips would come in contact. "Oh fucking hell - yes," Fred heaved, your knee must've been grazing against his cock just right because he was letting out soft groans and curse words every other second, his hefty length visible behind the fabric.
You couldn't resist, he had such an attractive dick even after seeing it so many times. You started rubbing him from the outside of his boxers, digging the pads of your fingertips into his shaft whenever you could. Fred's head rested between the slope of your breasts, and his hips bucked up at your touch, rutting desperately into your fisted hand, causing you to loudly moan out when his thigh pressed on your swollen bud.
He was barely jutting your hips at this point, barely able to focus on your pleasure from the amount he was getting. Cocky attitude gone as soon as you touched him, you made him melt under your palm. "I love you so fucking much - ohhh...holy shit, keep rubbing me like that." he moaned against your skin, the intense vibrations making you shudder.
You started to move by yourself, quickly and desperately, your juices glazing the skin and soaking up your panties that was making it harder for you both. But it felt too good to stop and remove it, the heat in your core was growing and you closed your eyes to focus on the man that was letting out hot breaths between the valley of your breasts. His hand started playing with your nipple, squeezing it between his forefinger and thumb as the other gripped your waist and rocked you faster.
Your movement was getting sloppy, legs trembling and jerking whenever pressure was applied to your clit. You were whining the name of your lover, your voice almost pornographic. "Cum my love - fuck yes, cum all over me. Make a mess of me." Fred's hand left your nipple and guided your hips faster, the other pulling down on your thighs as you threw your head back. Fred started circling your clit to speed up your fast approaching release, but it wasn't even needed.
With a final, high pitched squeal, your vision went black, stars dancing around your lids. Your body shuddered violently, and you came hard all over his thigh. "You look so beautiful I-" Fred barely managed to let out before you gripped down his boxers and let his erection swing out. You wrapped your hand around the head and watched in amusement as pre-cum leaked out when you squeezed.
"What? Gonna milk me dry baby?" Fred chuckled darkly, his free hand running through his tousled hair while the other gripped and kneaded the side of your waist.
"I was hoping to do more than that, but for now..." you licked a long stripe up the base of his neck to the back of his ear, and bit. All the while, your hand started working around his painfully hard cock.  Fred was almost heaving now, unlike you who just recently came down from your mind blowing orgasm.
"I-...please, I wan't-" Fred gulped, and in the very rare moments he didn't know what to say. You started pumping his cock, the moment you squeezed him tighter he was coming.
"Fuck fuck fuck - ____!" Fred released all over your hand, his dick twitching beneath your fingers as he leaned his body on yours and let out strangled moans against your neck. You licked your fingers clean, then gently lifted Fred's chin. His eyes were slanted in a deep post-orgasmic daze, and you started to give him slow, wet kisses. "Look how good you taste." you whispered, swirling your tongue around his as he groaned into your mouth.
You were obsessed with how mesmerizing Fred looked. When he came, when he cried out whatever filthy thing came to mind, that blissful glow he had after orgasming. You wanted to repeat those moments over and over again, come with him yourself and touch yourself to his noises. And his taste, you could never get enough of it.
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
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The Summer Before College | Marcus Moreno x reader
summary: just because you got some good scholarships doesn't mean you couldn’t use some extra cash.  luckily, babysitting for a family friend has been a steady side gig for you.  rule number one of babysitting: don't let your wandering eye rest for too long on the hot single dad.  
word count: 4.7k
warnings: smut (dub con elements? but she’s into it lol don’t worry), age gap (he’s 40-something, reader’s 18/19), loss of virginity, pussy spanking (like, once), lots of petnames and ‘good girl’s, not a dark fic but kinda pushing it, not explicitly dad's best friend trope but it has that energy and I've decided that he is in fact friends with the reader's dad
a/n: this has basically nothing to do with the movie.  he’s just a hot dad.  don’t overthink it.
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You knew the walk to the Moreno's by now: down two blocks from your house, take a right at San Vicente, a left on Birch, a few houses down and you're there.  With your full backpack weighing on your shoulders it felt longer than usual, but you made it anyways and knocked on the front door. 
"It's open!" a voice called from inside, and you turned the knob and swung the door open.
You almost regretted wearing your tiniest jean shorts, from the way Mr. Moreno did a double take when you walked in.  But hey, it was the middle of summer and he would never look at you like that— you were just his daughter's babysitter, ever since you were sixteen; he was probably just surprised to see that you were wearing something other than your school uniform.  Maybe some part of you wished he would look at you like that… 
Missy called your name, tearing you from your thoughts, jumping up when she saw you and beaming as she rushed to give you a hug.  "Hey!" you greeted in return.  
“Thanks again for doing this,” Mr. Moreno nodded in your general direction, apparently already dressed for whatever it was he had to do, slipping on his jacket from where it hung on a hook by the door.  "She's already had dinner, so just homework and bedtime," he explained to you as you nodded dutifully.
"Bedtime?  Dad, I'm not a little kid anymore," Missy rolled her eyes.
"Okay, you're a big kid and you need to be asleep by 10.  It's a school night."
She huffed but didn't protest, and you joined her on the couch because she wanted to show you some drawings she’d done earlier that day.  "Bye, Dad!" Missy waved when he left, and he turned back quickly to blow a kiss in her direction.
Once you helped her finish her homework (frankly, you didn't have to do that much— she's a smart kid), the two of you enjoyed some video games before you finally got her to start getting ready for bed.
It was cute how confident Missy was that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, only for her to be snoring within five minutes of her head hitting the pillow.  You were envious of how easily she could sleep; you could kill an hour just tossing and turning and readjusting your blanket.  But that wasn’t going to be your problem tonight: you weren’t going to sleep yet, until the man of the house returned, meaning all you had to do was wait.
Even in summer, having already graduated, you had plenty of work to do while you waited for Mr. Moreno.  Knowing what classes you had in the fall, you bought your textbooks a bit early and planned on reading them all before the semester began.  You’d already gotten through Philosophy Through the Ages and now you continued from where you left off in the middle of Introductory Physics.  
What surprised you was that you had time to finish that one, too.  You had anticipated that Mr. Moreno would be back before you made it to the module on fluid dynamics, but you reached the index at a quarter past midnight and he was still gone.  You shrugged and picked up the next one— A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry— hoping he was alright and that he’d be back soon.
You had to make yourself some coffee when 1 a.m. rolled around; tired, anxious, and distracted, you realized this was probably not the best state to be attempting to study in, but you didn’t feel like you had a choice.  You didn’t want to fall asleep here, you’d promised to watch Missy and you couldn’t exactly do that while asleep… plus, he would probably be back any minute now.  Sure, you’d been saying that to yourself for nearly an hour and a half now, but it was more true than ever.
It was another hour and a half, though, until his car pulled into the driveway and he pushed through the front door, prompting you to set aside your textbook.
“Good evening,” you greeted, standing up.  He looked a little disheveled— but it worked for him, with that curly hair all messed up in just the right way.  Maybe it was just that it was late or that it was the rare time you saw him without Missy around, but there was a darkness about him now, not sinister so much as just purely intimidating.  It was like you hadn’t really taken him seriously before, and now you were appreciating that you should have.
“She’s asleep?” he assumed, glancing over to the hallway which his daughter’s bedroom was positioned at the end of before slipping his jacket off and hanging it by the door.
“It’s half past two, so… I really hope so,” you chuckled.
“Shit, is it that late already?” he groaned, glancing at his watch.
“Did you not notice?”
“I.. got carried away.”
You didn’t want to know what he’d been out so late for.  It was none of your business, and you figured you were better off without any secrets to keep— you’d never been so good at keeping secrets, even your own.
“Been studying this whole time?” he noticed as he glanced at the textbooks on the couch, grinning a little.  It sort of felt like he was mocking you, and it made your cheeks warm as you nodded.  “What a good girl.”
That made a cold tingle crawl up your spine.  Sure, other students had called you that before, and plenty of your teachers, but when he said it, like that… it felt entirely new.  “I try,” you managed to respond eventually.
“You’ll do well in college, I bet.”
“You think so?” you beamed.
“Yeah,” he nodded confidently.  There was something comforting about the way he smiled at you; yet, there was something predatory about the way his eyes glanced down your body and back up slowly.
As you turned and bent over to pick up your textbooks off the couch, you could tell that he had stepped closer; you could just barely hear the soft noise of his footsteps on his carpet, just barely feel the warmth of him behind you, just barely pick up on the slow, thoughtful breath he took in and out through his nose.
Standing back up slowly, you felt him do it again, right against your neck.
“M-Mr. Moreno,” you stammered, shivering when his hands gripped you on either arm.  Not a tight grip, per se, but one that made his strength obvious.
“You don’t have to call me that,” he breathed.  “Not when we’re alone.”
Not that you really had any plan on how to respond to that, but if you had, it would've been forgotten as his lips brushed over your neck, leaving teasing kisses in a trail over your pulse.
"Wait—" you blurted out instinctively when his hands moved to your waist, cut off by your own shaky sigh and suppressed moan.  “What if she wakes up?” you questioned anxiously, glancing down the hallway and hoping you wouldn’t find Missy there, watching her dad feeling you up— and you letting him, not just that but enjoying it.  Of course, the hallway was deserted, but you couldn’t feel certain it would stay that way.
“She won’t,” he assured.  “Not if you can be a good girl and stay quiet.”
You made a little whimpering noise as you wondered if you could.  You didn’t know how, really; you were good at being quiet when you were alone, but being alone had never felt like this.  Forbidden, sexy, terrifyingly wonderful… nothing had ever felt like this.
“Do you want me to stop?” he purred, sounding like he already knew the answer.
“No,” you answered a little too quickly, “please… please don’t stop.”
“Yeah, I thought so,” he grinned.  “Tell me what you do want.”
“I want…” you sighed and started over again, willing yourself to speak your thoughts aloud even though they made a pit of guilt sink in your stomach.  "I want you to make me feel good."
You knew it was a sort of childish way of putting it, even before he laughed at your statement, but you weren't sure what else to say.  "Yeah?  I can do that," he decided.  "But I can make you feel good in so many ways…" he trailed off as his right hand slipped lower and lower, finally landing between your legs as you gasped.  Two fingers slid over the crotch of your shorts, and somehow he managed to bump against something that made electricity shoot up your spine and your hips buck into his touch of their own accord.  You felt his smile widen as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin of your neck.  "You'll have to be more specific," he finally finished.  "How do you want me to make you feel good?"
"Inside me," you whined, "I want you inside me."
There was a sudden shift as it seemed like the control he had over you suddenly did not extend to himself; he growled a bit and pulled you into him, and you could feel the hard shape of his cock, through his trousers and your shorts.  You could feel it pressed just above your ass and it made you squirm against his embrace.  "Feel what you do to me?" he grunted, and you nodded quickly.  "Good."
He spun you around quickly, pulling you close to him and burning right through you with those brown eyes darker than ever, but just as you thought he might kiss you, he spoke instead.
“My bedroom’s upstairs,” he informed you quietly.
You just nodded, following him as he pulled you along through the house, up the stairs and past the door to the master bedroom of the house.
Now that you hadn’t seen it coming, of course, was when he chose to grab you and kiss you suddenly.  It was rough and passionate and nothing like you could've imagined; you were certain you'd never been kissed like this, like he needed to kiss you more than he needed anything.  
Your arms slipped around his neck as he pushed you back against the wall, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he kicked the door shut behind the two of you.  Little moans were muffled by the kiss— and it took you a minute to realize they were yours.  You didn’t even sound like yourself; probably because you’d never felt like this before, and therefore had never had any reason to sound like this.
You could feel his cock between your legs, though unfortunately not in the way you wanted.  Still, it drove you wild to have him so close like this, to try to imagine how the thick shape you were feeling would ever fit inside you.
His hands were so strong and thick that you worried they’d stretch out your tank top just by reaching under it— well, that is you would have worried about that if you could think about anything else but his hands reaching under your tank top.  He didn’t even waste his time touching you over your bra, instead making quick work of the clasps with one hand before coming back to grope one breast in his palm, then the other.  Just that was enough to make you run your fingers into his hair, but a little pinch to your raised nipple made your fists tighten and pull— you didn’t mean to, and you were just about to feel bad about it until he growled a little.  It seemed like a growl of approval, considering he pinched your nipples harder to make you do it again.  
“Feels good?” he asked with annoying (yet arousing) confidence.
“S-so good,” you slurred, stumbling over your words as you tried to think as clearly as possible through the thick haze of pleasure clouding your mind. 
As he guided you to set your legs down and unhook your arms from around his neck, you felt a bit like a doll being posed; when he pulled your top over your head and your bra from your arms, you felt like a doll being undressed.  You sort of didn’t mind it; you were happy to let him take the lead, confident he knew at least 100% more about this than you did. 
He knelt down before you as he roughly pulled at your tight jean shorts, his knuckles nearly bruising your hips as he stripped you.  Your underwear were not the pair you would’ve worn if you had known somebody was going to see them, just a plain dark blue color that made you feel so drab as he came face-to-face with them.  He didn’t seem to mind much, grinning up at you as he slipped his fingers under them and pulled them down, too.  Your face was so hot and yet your legs were breaking out into goosebumps simultaneously, and a shiver rolled up your body when he growled at the sight of your body laid bare for him.  Before you could even process it, he stood up and grabbed you, tossing you back onto the bed and spreading your legs.
“Fuck, what a pretty little pussy,” he praised with a smile that made you feel a little light-headed, swirling a few fingers over your swollen button until pulling them back to spank you there— it wasn’t even that hard, but you yelped and jolted and he laughed darkly.  “So sensitive,” he purred, his words walking a fine line between a compliment and a taunt, “so wet.”
Another finger slipping down to your entrance proved him right, your arousal plentiful as his touch glided through your folds.  
Suddenly overcome with a moment of bravery, you sat up and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, making him smile down at you.  “Let me help you,” he offered as he worked the buttons instead, freeing you to try to open his belt.  “Look at you, acting so desperate…”
At this point, you weren’t even offended by that; you wanted him so bad that you didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed by it anymore.  
He slipped the shirt off of his shoulders just as you finished opening the belt.  He pushed your hands away, and now you could see the muscles in his arms flexing as he held you down by your wrists.  “You’re getting ahead of yourself, señorita,” he purred.
Why did feeling powerless to him turn you on so much?  There was no real fear to it— you knew and trusted him, you would never have developed your misguided crush on him if you didn’t— and yet there was a strong edge of uncertainty as he kissed your neck and moved down your chest, between your breasts before he stopped to kiss those, too.
“Oh god,” you breathed, and he smiled against your skin before sitting up and staring down at you.  It wasn’t apparent if it was distant streetlights or the moonlight shining in through the window, but either way it cast a cold blue light into the room that reflected as a glimmer in his eyes. 
“Not gonna make you wait any longer,” he promised in a low voice, reaching down to push his unbuttoned belt and trousers to his thighs— those thick, muscular thighs that made your lip catch between your teeth.
Your breath caught, too, but in your lungs this time as his cock was exposed: thick, swollen, veiny… it looked picturesque, if thoroughly intimidating.  You couldn’t figure out if you wanted to move towards it or sheepishly crawl away.
"Why do you look scared?" he asked, his voice so much deeper than you remembered it from before, even if there was genuine concern somewhere in his tone.
"Is it gonna hurt?" you asked instead of answering.
"Baby…" he sighed huskily, "are you a virgin?"
You bit your lip and looked away, irritated that you hadn't managed to hide your fear enough to keep your secret.  
He sighed, your silence apparently answer enough.  
"Do you not want to, anymore?" you asked anxiously, afraid you had completely killed the mood.  Part of the reason it'd taken you this long to lose it was specifically because people seemed intimidated by the idea of being your first.
"No, no, I— no," he asserted sternly.  "I just need to… change my approach, slightly.”
He leaned down a bit, hovering over you as he trailed his hand up your leg, rubbing the inside of your thigh before finally drawing circles over your aching clit with his thumb, causing you to shiver and moan quietly.
“And, to answer your question, it won’t hurt.  Not if I get you good and ready for me,” he explained, pushing just one finger into you— and even that small of a stimulation made your eyes flutter shut, with his fingers being so much thicker and stronger than yours.
The second made your fists clench around the satin-y sheets beneath you.  You didn’t dare open your eyes, knowing you’d find him staring down at you and you weren’t ready for that, weren’t ready to see his reaction to your body in such a vulnerable state.  You could hear his reaction, though, with the rough groans and satisfied sighs he let out as he pumped his fingers into you.
When three fingers filled you, your eyes shot open.  “Fuck!” you yelped.
He smiled but slowed down, apparently taking some pity on you— but not enough to stop him from pressing down harder on your clit.
Just when you figured he’d warmed you up enough and he’d fuck you like he promised, he slid lower and the bed and bent down, adding his tongue into the mix with his fingers.  It was… overwhelming, and hot, not just psychologically but literally: it was physically hot, as in temperature.  How was his mouth so warm against you, and his fingers so warm inside you?
When he latched his lips around your clit and sucked on it, you saw stars.  Energy gathered in your gut and burned so bright that you thought you might explode.  Really, it was more like an implosion as the coil inside you snapped and your thighs accidentally clamped down on his hand.  It didn’t faze him though, it didn’t even slow him down as he moaned a little against you and curled his fingers even harder.  You didn’t remember reaching down to grab his head, you just felt his hair between your fingers as you pulled it roughly, gasping his name.
When he did stop, sitting up and wiping his face with the back of his hand, you just looked back up at him as you caught your breath.  He laughed, and you realized you were gawking unintentionally.
“I’m guessing you’ve never come like that before?” he ventured.  You didn’t know if ‘like that’ meant from oral or just so suddenly and intensely, but it was true either way so you nodded.
When he reached down to grip his cock with the same hand still wet with your slick, you held your breath without realizing it.  “Please put it in me,” you whimpered.
“I will,” he assured as he guided the head of it through your slick folds, stopping to tease your clit as you jolted from the contact on the sensitive nerves.  Something surreal and indescribable tingled under your skin— you could hardly believe that this was happening, let alone with him, with Mr. Moreno.  Or, Marcus.  You were on a first-name basis by now, surely.
He pushed forward in one smooth, slow stroke until he was all the way inside you, his body filling yours to the brim as you quivered from the sensation of being stretched so wide.  
“Am I hurting you?” he asked roughly.
“...almost,” you answered hesitantly, unsure how to describe the sensations you were feeling; not exactly pain, but not not pain.  The favorite pain you’d ever felt in your life, easily.
He chuckled as he gripped your hips a little tighter.  "I'm gonna move now," he announced.  You nodded your approval, sighing shakily as he pulled his hips back and you felt the intoxicating friction of his cock against your walls.  
"Ffffuck," you whimpered, gasping when he slammed his hips forward again.  Your eyes rolled back in your head when he pushed as deep into you as he could with each thrust, still measured but not exactly gentle as he set a pace faster than you’d prepared for.  But it was good, god it was so fucking good you weren’t sure what to do with yourself.  "Marcus," you sighed, barely recognizing your own voice when it was heavy with need and arousal like this.
He grinned when he heard his name cross your lips, grinding his hips against yours for emphasis until you were forced to arch your back.  "You like it rough, don't ya, honey?"
You nodded, confident that you liked it however he was doing it.
"Fuck, I knew it.  Knew as soon as I saw you."
Before you could wonder what he meant by that, he was already moving fast enough to make your head spin.  You had never had anything so deep inside you before, and when he pushed your legs up and back against your chest, you had no choice but to scream with pleasure.
Just before you reached the peak of it though, his hand clamped down over your mouth to muffle the sound.  "Gotta be quiet," he reminded you through his teeth before relaxing his hand a bit so you could still be heard somewhat
"I can't," you whined, "Marcus, please, I can't stay quiet—"
"You have to."
"Feels too good," you whimpered your excuse.  "F-fuck, slow down, I won't be able to stop it—"
He cut you off with a kiss, slow yet dominating, and your moans were muffled by his lips.  You still sounded so loud in your own head, but at least your cries weren't echoing against the walls of his room anymore.
What was echoing were the sounds of skin slapping on skin as he pounded into you, roughly finding every delicate spot within you and making the backs of your thighs sore as his hips slammed into them.  It forced your hands to grip at his muscular shoulders and your nails to dig into the skin there.  You hoped there would be little half-moon shaped marks there tomorrow, maybe one would even scar so he'd have your mark on his body forever; after all, he'd carved a permanent space in your body by taking your virginity.  Even if you couldn't dream of being as special to him as he was to you, you liked the idea of giving him something that he couldn't give back.
That energy was building again, different from before but no less powerful and persistent.  "I'm gonna— fuck, I'm gonna come, I'm so close," you whispered.
“Yeah?  Go ahead," he encouraged.  "I wanna see you fall apart just for me, wanna feel you come around my cock."
You hadn't realized he'd be able to feel it, and the idea of that was so filthily beautiful that it pushed you over the edge, your whole body tensing up in sudden waves of pleasure so intense that it made your eyes water.
Through the static filling your ears, you heard his low, husky voice encouraging you: "Good girl, just like that, don't fucking stop."
You'd always been powerless to his voice, but this was another level.  It was as if your body understood and met his demands, continuing to ride the peak of your sensation so long as he growled in your ear just right.  
It was much too tender, the way he brushed the stray hair away from your face, the way he kissed your slack mouth again, the way he held you tighter and mumbled more praises to you.  It was more romantic than it had any right to be, and you had to bite back the words of affection threatening to spill out of your mouth.
I love you, you wanted to tell him, I've loved you for years, but it was beyond inappropriate.  You didn't want to play the role of the innocent virgin who thinks sex means being in love and lets herself catch feelings for the older man who is just taking what he wants and, at best, doing her a favor so she doesn't have to go off to college and get her cherry popped there.  Maybe that was accurate, but that wasn't who you wanted to be.  
You wanted to be sexy, and mature, and in control.  You wanted to play a new rule, one that still felt foreign and yet closer than ever.  So you wrapped your legs around his hips and held him deeper in you, smiling with a little growl of your own.
"I want you to come inside me," you informed him with a purr, loving the little moment of shock that passed over his face before he groaned, fucking you a little faster and more erratically.
"Fuck, really?" he rasped.
You bit your lip as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes and nodded.
"You're on the pill?"
Another nod, this one finished off with a shiver as you wondered how much more of this your body could take.
He grinned and picked up the pace again, his moans getting a little louder with each movement.  "Fuck, I'm gonna come— gonna fill up your tight little pussy, is that what you want?"
You nodded feverishly, already close to the edge again as you imagined what it would be like to have his come in you for the rest of the night.  Was he going to make you walk home with it leaking out from between your legs?  Why did that idea make your inner muscles involuntarily tighten around him?
With a string of curses and a grip on your thigh tight enough to bruise, he reached his own peak and you felt his cock flex and pulse inside you, a new warmth filling your gut from the inside out.  
It's hard to say how long the two of you stayed like that, since you were busy basking in the afterglow (and, less enjoyably, worrying about the consequences that tomorrow morning would bring).
When he pulled out and collapsed beside you, you wondered if you should get up and get dressed.
"Stay here tonight," he instructed you, as if somehow a response to your internal thought.  "Your folks won't freak out if you're out all night, right?"
"I'll just tell them I slept over at your place," you shrugged.  With a confused look from him, you clarified: "on the couch."
"Right," he nodded as he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you closer, letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck.  In this way and in so many others, it was how you expected (and hoped) losing your virginity would go: someone you trust and who cares about you, with enough attention on you that you didn't feel much pain, plus cuddling afterwards.  But, in even more ways, it was unlike what you'd ever thought possible: it felt incredible and you came so hard that your ears were still kind of ringing, you didn't use a condom or even think to mention it, and finally— and most absurdly— it was with Marcus fucking Moreno.
Frankly, considering his performance earlier, "fucking" very well could be his middle name.
"You should sit for me again next week," he suggested quietly.
"Do you have somewhere to go?"
"No," he grinned, "but I'll be sure to come back real late, after she's gone to bed, so I can show you all the other ways I can make you feel good."
"H-how many ways are there?!"
He just laughed, pulling you closer and placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.  “Oh, sweetheart… so smart, but so innocent.  We can fix that.”
You weren’t sure entirely which of those two things he intended on fixing.
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tteokggukk · 3 years
Text
golden hour → jjk
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» pairing: photographer! jungkook x reader
» genre: smut, established relationship, pwp
» words: 3.4k
» warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, some dirty talk, fingering, oral (m/f receiving), deepthroating, cunnilingus, penetration, teasing, edging-ish, jungkook is kind of??? a dom, jungkook loves kissing, use of ‘babe’ and ‘baby’ as pet names, tattooed and long haired jungkook (which isn’t rlly a warning but just in case??), and a boudoir shoot.
» summary: when your boyfriend jungkook is stressed out over a certain project, you decide to comfort him and help him de-stress by taking a mini-photoshoot during golden hour. what you don’t expect is how he turns your innocent suggestion into a boudoir shoot.
» a/n: hello omg this is the first time i’m ever posting smut and all i wanna say is i tried. this is like a practice shot or smth but i swear i’ll learn askldlaskdjl feel free to leave comments and suggestions :’> AhAHAGSGHA
permanent taglist: this is the first time i’m posting with a permanent taglist and i’m tagging just in case but since this is a smut please let me know if you’re not comfortable with smut works so i can only tag you in non-smut ones, thank you! @mochisjoon​ @boraength @rageyoudamnednerd
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Sundays were one of your favorite days of the week. It was your chance to unwind and ease yourself before preparing for work again the next day. It was also one of the days where you could spend your time just lying down on your bed with your longtime boyfriend, Jungkook, where you felt the safest in his arms. Today though, Jungkook was focused on his desk retouching pictures he took for a client.
It was a quiet and peaceful day in your apartment. You didn’t have much to do, so you decided to catch up on some reading while lying in bed partnered with a cup of tea on the side table. You loved how you respected each other enough in your relationship that neither of you minded or intervened the other when working on your separate interests. You could do your own thing while he would do his, so it was nice to still have that sense of freedom and independence. The two of you spent the whole day focused on your separate agendas.
Neither of you realized how the sun was beginning set, slowly dimming the room into a warm tint of orange.
From time to time, Jungkook would ask for your opinion on the shots he was fixing and you’d give him your honest opinion (you’ve picked up photography terms and technicalities that you learned from him when you first started dating). He was glad that you were of help, kissing your hand every time he heard your input, but you couldn’t help but notice how stressed he was over this one project. He’d make a low, grunting sound every hour and run his hands through his hair in frustration. Occasional clicking noises and sighs would slip from his mouth and it bothered you to see him like this. He was normally excited and quick when working on projects, but this one in particular was putting him at his wit’s end.
Getting up from bed, you decide to give your boyfriend some comfort in a way that you could. Placing your book aside, you walked over to him. You positioned your hands on his shoulders before applying soft, circular motions just below his nape, causing him to hum in pleasure and tilt his head back. He lets you massage him for a moment until he takes both your hands and rests them on his chest.
“I’m sorry I haven’t spent much time with you today,” he apologizes.
“Don’t be,” you tell him, “I know how important this is to you—but you seem really stressed about it.”
“The client has so many requests and they keep making changes at the last minute, I can’t really figure out what they want,” He sighs, obviously exasperated at the client he was currently handling.
“How urgent is this?” You ask.
“Not very?” He turns his ergonomic chair around to face you, pulling you close to make you sit on his lap, “I just wanted to get it done as fast as I could to leave some days for readjustments.” Of course, he was always such a perfectionist and you admired that about him.
“So why don’t you take a break? Watch some shows, lie down, or take new pictures as a “palette cleanser”,” You suggest, noticing how his eyebrows raise at the suggestion of taking pictures. Jungkook looks out the window before looking back at you, “Well it is golden hour,” he grins.
“Can I take pictures of you?” He asks with his doe eyes beaming brightly, making it impossible for you to say no to him.
“Sure, why not?” You agreed and got up while he followed after you with his personal camera.
Thanks to the huge window in your apartment, the warm color of the setting sun hit all the right spots in your room. The bed was well lit, so you two decided to hold the mini-shoot on it. You knew exactly what kind of poses Jungkook liked in pictures, it made your heart flutter every time he praised you for doing so well. His favorite shots were always the ones where you modeled in them—you were his muse, after all, and there hasn’t been a single shot of you that left him dissatisfied.
It didn’t take long before you were fully immersed in switching to different poses for him, you hadn’t noticed how the strap of your silk camisole began sliding off your left shoulder. Jungkook, however, took a clear notice on the simple slip of your clothing, rousing an interesting idea in his head.
You watched as Jungkook scanned the pictures, not quite expecting him to ask, “Do you wanna try a boudoir shoot?”
Your eyes grow wide at the question, unsure with what kindled the suggestion. His eyes meet yours and he mistakenly reads the expression on your face for hesitance, “It’s okay if you don’t want to, babe. It was just an idea.”
“No, I do,” You said quickly. You weren’t nervous at all, and honestly you were determined to help him get his mind off the stress he’s been through the whole day—you thought you’d do just about anything, “I was just wondering why you suddenly thought of doing that kind of shoot,” you laughed.
“So should I take these off then?” you held onto the hem of your camisole, making Jungkook smile and nod in response.
As you slowly began to undress, Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at you while you disposed of the clothes that covered every outline of your body. After all these years, seeing your body always felt like the first time for him—it was something he never got tired of, his amazement at your figure never faded.
“Maybe I should change into lingerie,” You muttered, realizing you were only wearing your plain, nude-colored underwear. Jungkook stopped you before you got out of bed.
“I think you look perfect in those,” He says, a fond look in his eyes. You slowly moved back and sat down again, a blush creeping on your cheeks. “Psh,” was all you could say, making him chuckle at how you were flustered by the comment.
Taking boudoir shoots wasn’t exactly your forte, so Jungkook had to guide and direct you on what you had to do with your body. He’d gently move your arms and feet to his desired angle, and though it was awkward at first, you eventually got the hang of it.
You were definitely a quick learner, and Jungkook noticed that. Through the lens, he started seeing how you got comfortable with the intimate poses and how your facial expressions could easily capture the mood. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare at your eyes before his gaze trailed down to your pink lips, where you lasciviously bit on your finger. He had to clear his throat before he finally took the picture.
The light coming from the windows did more than just reflect the golden hour in his shots. From your perspective, the lighting made it impossible not to notice the bulge forming in his grey sweatpants, which cast a shadow near his upper thigh. You bite your lip at the sight, your heart beginning to thump rapidly at the thoughts racing in your head.
A coy smile tugs upon your lips as you position yourself in a new pose, bringing yourself to your knees. Jungkook watches as you slowly remove the straps of your bra from your shoulders, leaving yourself to hold the cups in place. He gulps nervously and tries to hide it with a cough, but this only urges you to do more.
You continue teasing him by curving your back and gripping on the sheets, causing him to let out a frustratingly deep breath. This goes on for a couple more minutes with several other poses until he couldn’t take it anymore—with the simple movement of holding your hair up and exposing your nape, which you knew drove him wild, he brings the camera down from his face.
“You’re getting too good at this, aren’t you?”
His voice was much deeper now than it was previously as he begins to walk over to the bed. “Am I?” You ask, pretending not to notice his eyes that were now a shade darker along with the outline of his length protruding from his sweats, “Are we done? Did the pictures come out good?”
“Mhm,” he hums, sitting down on the edge of the bed to face you, leaning into your neck to whisper into your ear, “Really good.”
“Then I take it you’ll probably get back to work now?” You asked, leaning backwards to look at him, “You seem de-stressed enough. Good luck, babe!” You playfully peck his cheek before turning away from him as a joke, bringing the straps of your bra back to your shoulders.
“Not quite,” He says sternly, “Let me help you with that.”
With one swift movement, Jungkook immediately unhooks your bra as a gasp leaves your lips. He watches you clutch onto it, trying to cover your nearly exposed chest. You turn back to face him only to be met by Jungkook’s soft lips crashing into yours. He starts leaning into you, leaving you lying down on the bed with your bra still (but only barely) covering your chest. He was towering over you now, a smirk forming on his lips as he notices your cheeks turning into a darker shade of red.
“Nice try, you think I don’t know what you’re doing?” he says darkly while raising a brow. You bit your lip and felt the urge to start kissing him, but the way he leaned back clearly meant he had other plans.
“Such a good model, aren’t you?” He moves back and takes your right leg, peppering your inner thigh with kisses as he steadily moves up towards your stomach while his long hair tickled your skin. He then moves up to your chest until finally reaching your collarbone, “Is this what you had in mind to relieve my stress?”
He starts planting soft kisses on your neck, gradually turning them into harsh sucking and leaving several marks on your skin. A small moan escapes your lips as he finds that sweet spot on your neck, the sound making him smirk in confidence. His left hand is pressed onto the mattress for support while the other cupped your face.
When his mouth leaves your neck, he looks into your eyes for a brief moment and gently takes your chin to pull you in for a kiss. His soft lips that move against yours so perfectly partnered with the musky scent of his perfume were enough for your mind to go in a haze. Your hands move up to his neck before slowly moving up to gently tug on his hair, making him hum in pleasure. Jungkook’s tongue begins to glide over your lips, and you take this as a cue to open your mouth and give him access to your tongue.
He breaks away for a moment to take his shirt off, the sight of his bare torso making you crave him even more. The way his muscles flexed certainly did things to you, you wished you had the ability to see his gorgeous back while simultaneously looking at his toned abdomen.
He notices the small tug on your lips after removing his shirt and sends you a teasing smile, “Well aren’t you enjoying this?”
“Always,” you sighed, making him giggle. He leans forward once again for your lips to meet. Softly, you bite on his lower lip before he makes his way towards your cheek, then down towards your neck, and finally to your chest where your bra laid atop your breasts. He takes the garment between his teeth and takes it with his hand, tossing it over to a nearby chair where it perfectly hung over the backrest. You don’t know why, but that act alone caused your arousal pool even more—you had to resist gasping out loud in amazement.
His tongue begins to skillfully swirl over your nipple and your breath hitches at the action. His tattooed hand takes your other breast and cups it, lightly kneading and squeezing it.
“Mmmh, that feels good,” You moan softly while your fingers run through the strands of his hair. Once his lips leave your breast, he gives you a quick kiss before moving down to your thighs where he slightly spreads them apart.
“Oh, babe,” he purrs while playing with the waistband of your underwear, “This wet already?” He continues to lightly peck your inner thighs while his hand rubs on your pussy that was still covered by your undergarment. Your breathing had turned heavy as you waited for his next move, but he seemed to enjoy teasing you like this.
“Jungkook, please...” Your voice almost came out as whisper.
His eyes look up to meet yours, a “Please what, baby?”
“Please me,” you whined.
“Please you? And what do you want me to do?” He smirks, rubbing the garter of your underwear between his fingers as if he were about to pull them down any second.
“Take it off,” you begged.
“These?” Slowly, he begins to pull them down and slides them off your thighs. You push yourself up to watch as he takes your underwear in his hands, tossing them to the same chair where he threw your bra. The outline of his cock appeared to be even more protrusive now, and you couldn’t help but slightly salivate at the sight.
He slips his fingers into your folds and brushes them past your clit while quiet whimpers begin to fall from your mouth. Jungkook leans forward as he starts to gradually rub in circles, his eyes focused on yours as he watches the expressions on your face with amusement.
“Ah—fuck,” You fail to bite back a moan as Jungkook begins to pick up the pace, stroking his fingers up and down exactly the way you wanted him to. “Just like that,” you pant.
“Is this what you want?” He whispers into your ear before pulling his hand away, “Or should I get back to work and stop?”
“God, Jungkook, no—!” You cried.
“No, what?” He growls, “Use your words, ___.”
“No, don’t get back to work,” You whined.
“Then what should I do?” His hands continue to slide through your arousal while waiting for your answer.
“Touch me, please.”
He chuckles darkly at your impatience.
“So needy.”
He begins to run his digits along your clit causing your breathing to become unsteady as louder pants escaped your lips. Seeing the veins on his arm while his tattooed fingers worked their way onto your sweet spot turned you on greatly, you found yourself moaning out every profanity you knew. Jungkook slips two of his long fingers into your pussy, causing you to cry his name out loud followed by another curse. He licks his lips at the arousing sound of you blurting out vulgar words while his fingers curled inside you.
“This is what you wanted, babe? For me to fuck you with my fingers, huh?” He inserts a third finger in and you feel the burn from the stretch, hissing at the slight pain. He quickly moves down and positions himself to face your arousal, using his free hand to further spread your legs apart.
“Such a pretty little cunt,” He stares hungrily and runs his tongue across your folds, “Tastes so good.”
Your hands grab onto Jungkook’s soft hair while he continues lapping you up, his tongue skillfully flicking over and sucking on your clit. The motion of his fingers slipping in and out of you paired with the movement of his tongue sent your mind in a frenzy—you could hear just how wet you were and felt your pussy pulsating at his touch.
He continues to delve his tongue into you, humming in delight as he takes in every bit of your arousal. The vibrations from his mouth felt even more stimulating, and though you wanted to feel much more of him than just his mouth, the high you felt was too much for you to be able to push him off.
“W-want you,” You stuttered. Jungkook looks up at you and breathes out a deep laugh, another smirk forming on his lips.
“Me? Where do you want me, babe?” He positions himself above you to plant kisses along your neck which made you smile. Your hands trail all over his torso before sliding down underneath his sweatpants, feeling the length of his cock in your hands. Jungkook lets out a low grunt and crashes his lips back into your neck.
“Want you inside me,” You hum, rubbing his cock underneath his sweats. Jungkook’s breathing begins to turn ragged at your touch, but he manages to pull himself back and take his pants off.
“Kneel, baby,” He instructs, holding your hands to pull you up. You kneel in front of him and watch as he begins to stroke himself, biting your lip at the sight. “Show me how much you want me.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. Pushing his hand off himself, you wrap your lips around the red tip of his cock. His hand grabs a fistful of your hair as you bob your head up and down his length, your hand pumping the rest of his size. Low groans begin to emit from his mouth while your tongue swirled around the head, and to show him just how much you wanted him to be inside you, you dared yourself to take him deep inside your throat.
“F-fuck, ___, you’re so good,” He breathes out in shock at how much of him you’re taking in. Slight tears form in your eyes as his grip on your hair tightens, momentarily gagging you.
Jungkook’s hands finally frees the strands of your hair as he leans forward into you, pushing you back onto the mattress. Prying your legs apart, he takes his cock in his hand and teases your entrance, brushing the tip up on your clit and causing heat to form in your stomach.
“Please, Jungkook,” you whined, unable to wait any longer. Another smile tugs on his lips at your eagerness and before you knew it, you were gripping on the sheets while Jungkook sank deep into you. The movement of his hips thrusting into you has your back arching and your toes curling while you moaned his name in pleasure.
Jungkook continues to pick up the pace. You could feel the way his cock moved against your walls, hitting the exact spot that sent lightning through your veins while your fingernails dug deeper into his shoulders—the groans and heavy breathing coming from your boyfriend turning you on even more. His eyes meet yours for a quick second and for a moment he thinks about wanting to capture you just like this.
“So beautiful,” he pants, “And so, so needy.”
It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself reaching your climax, and it’s brought even closer by the sudden circular motion of Jungkook’s digits rubbing against your clit. A strangled moan comes out of you as he continues to thrust even deeper while his fingers added pressure on your bud. Your body starts to shake as your orgasm ripples through you, causing you to scream his name out for who knows how loud. Your walls clench around him as he continues to fuck you through your high and fills you up, followed by the sound of his own moans. His hips begin to slow down and he eventually pulls out of you.
Jungkook’s lips crash into yours before lying down next to you, pulling you in so you were lying down on his arm while covering the two of you with a blanket. Neither of you noticed how dark the sky had turned and how the only light coming into the apartment were from the streetlights outside. The only sound in the apartment came from the cars outside and you two catching your breaths.
“You’re amazing,” he sighs, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” You grin and curl your legs with his, “Are you good, now? Feeling better enough to retouch pictures?”
“Oh, definitely,” Jungkook chuckles, “But those aren’t urgent.”
“I thought you wanted to get it done as fast as you could?” You laughed.
“I know, but it’s already dark out, so I should be spending time with you,” he says and plants a kiss on your temple. From underneath the sheets, you could feel his hands travelling to squeeze your inner thigh just as he moves closer into your ear before whispering in a low, inviting tone.
“…and one round isn’t enough, don’t you think?”
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↣ all rights reserved © 2020 tteokggukk. please do not repost. translations/modifications are not allowed.
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spaceskam · 3 years
Text
welcome to another "I wrote this at work ignore the typos" situation featuring content in the little teaser for s3
ao3
"Michael Guerin with a cup of tea. Interesting."
"Bettering myself with soothing beverages," Michael said, leaning back in his chair as he looked up at Alex. He still felt a little off kilter, but he had no intention of guilt tripping Alex. It was a work in progress. He was a work in progress.
"Is that a quote from self proclaimed life coach Isobel Evans?" Alex asked, cocking his head to the side and smiling. Michael felt dizzy with it. It'd been so long without that fucking smile.
"How'd you know?" Michael asked, trying to keep the conversation light and not let it drift to an antagonistic place. He was good at that. Unfortunately, he was less good at keeping that at bay. "Where's the boyfriend?" Work in progress.
"He couldn't stick around, had to get to a meeting. He just met me at the bus stop," Alex said. Michael nodded and only then let his eyes drift away from his face, giving him a quick once over and tried not to be greedy with it. He still had his bags. "Is this seat taken?"
"Yeah," Michael said, casual as possible because Alex deserved that, "Saving it for this guy I met a few years back. You might know him. Around my height, dark hair, nice biceps, used to be in the army, killer thighs–literally, I almost suffocated me once."
"Shut up," Alex laughed, sitting across from him, "And I wasn't in the army."
"Same evil."
"Fair enough," Alex said, clasping his hands together and leaning forward, "Man, what's a guy gotta do around here to get a drink?"
Michael absolutely did not get his hopes up about this.
"Just sit there and look pretty," Michael said, pushing himself to his feet.
He'd been working a little harder and getting Sanders to make the place look a bit nicer in the front so new comers would show up, both resulting in everyone making more money. It was the most money Michael had ever had saved up before and he barely knew what to even do with it. He'd never wanted it before, never wanted to act like he was here to stay, but now it was there and now he could pay for Alex's drink.
He allowed himself to feel a little good about himself for that.
He order a medium vanilla latte, extra vanilla and an extra shot of expresso like he'd seen Alex order when they were a younger. Before he was a complete fuck up. Before when ordering anything but black coffee felt rebellious. And he paid for him for the first time. And he absolutely wasn't prideful bringing it back.
The look on Alex's face said he was also aware that this was the first time he could afford to buy him something so trivial, but he wasn't going to say anything because he was Alex. He took a sip as Michael sat across from him again and he smiled with a tiny bit of foam gracing his top lip. Michael felt his chest constricting with some twisted sort of pride and he refused to let himself be embarrassed by it.
"Thank you," Alex said.
"No problem."
Then they lapsed into silence, drinking their respective drinks and staring. Alex never turned his head away like he usually did; Michael never broke the silence like he usually did. None of it was awkward or uncomfortable or tense. It was just... having non-alcoholic drinks with someone he loved in whatever sense of the word he could.
It was nice. It was easy. It was something so completely different than Michael knew what to do with.
He craved more.
"So, do you need a ride to your house so you don't have to walk with all that?" Michael asked, definitely not mentioning that Forrest at the very least could've taken it. Granted, there's a chance he offered and Alex declined, which would be very much like Alex, but still. If he can kiss him, he can help with his bags.
"Depends. Are you willing to drive out to the middle of nowhere?"
"So that was a sold sign," Michael said. Alex took a deep breath and nodded.
"Yeah. It was a nice house, but it didn't really feel like home, you know? And after everything..."
"No, I get it," Michael said, nodding, "So where are you staying now?"
"Old Valenti hunting cabin. My cut of the inheritance and what I'm getting for selling my house is gonna be used on making it decent," Alex said.
"And amping up the security system," Michael added. Alex grinned and nodded.
"And amping up the security system."
"Well, it's my day off, so I can definitely take you," Michael said, not saying he took the day off specifically to meet Alex. That wasn't necessary information.
"You don't have to."
"What if I want to?" Michael asked. Alex looked at him, still smiling but he was clearly a little wary. "Just let me help out. I'm even going to try to not make you feel bad about the boyfriend."
"Oh, well, thank you so much for your efforts," Alex said sarcastically, but his tone was light and his smile was even more so, "But you really don't mind?"
"Alex, it's the least I can do," Michael said. It sounded weird in his voice, but it felt right. Alex seemed to agree if the look on his face said anything. Michael was more than a little proud of himself for not second guessing himself or assuming the worst.
Maybe he actually did do some growing.
"Okay then. Let's go."
Having Alex in his truck again didn't feel real. He was giddy in a way he hadn't felt in awhile and the fact that his bags were on the floor and not between them made that feeling skyrocket. Alex was comfortable with him. Or, at least, he seemed to be.
"Did you have fun?" Michael asked. Alex huffed a laugh.
"Well, I mean, I was doing dirty work, so not really. Forrest met me a couple times but I never wanted him to stay too long, was way too dangerous," Alex said, turning in his seat to face him.
"When I came out there with Kyle, you let me stay awhile," Michael said. He wasn't bragging. Absolutely not. He was simply useful for the task at hand and Kyle had to get back to work. Them eating take out on a hotel room floor and staying up too late was just convenient, a secret little addition to the trip.
"Yeah, but I trust you not to get killed by accident," Alex said, "Forrest had a good childhood. He's not at all aware of his surroundings like you are."
"Good for him," Michael said, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel. Alex may or may not have noticed.
"Also," he said slowly, "I'm kinda getting spoiled with the telekinesis thing, I'm not gonna lie."
Michael bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to be unnecessarily happy with that.
"Well if you ever need to make use of it, I'm your man," Michael said. Alex hummed in response–Michael couldn't tell if it was an acknowledgment or agreement.
It was around a 45 minute drive to the Valenti hunting cabin and the trip there was a bunch of small, winding, hand-made paths. You couldn't find it if you didn't know it was there. It was perfect for Alex.
Michael helped him get his bags inside and took in the fact that most of the stuff that had been in his house wasn't present. The furniture was broken in and there were a few boxes around, but not enough to hold everything from his house.
"I need a change," Alex said, going to the breaker box to turn the electricity on, "I thought that when I came back the first time that would be my big change, but I just did more of the same shit. So this is a real change."
"Sounds like it'd be good for you," Michael agreed.
"Yeah," Alex sighed, looking around. His eyes eventually landed on Michael again. "Do you have to go?"
"No, not unless you want me to," Michael said. Alex nodded.
"Move some boxes for me, telekinesis boy?" he asked. Michael grinned.
"Sure."
The spent what felt like two hours rearranging and unpacking and cleaning, Alex encouraging him to show off in a way that felt so ridiculously good. Everything about this was good. Spending time with him without expectation and tension and time limits.
He loved him more than his body had space for.
"Michael!" Alex said, immediately followed by a laugh, "You're going to break something!"
"I won't, have faith," Michael said, pulsing with the attention, "And if I do, I'll fix it."
He twisted his wrist, manuvering the fully put together bed frame through the door with his mind. It bumped into the door frame once or twice, but Alex just laughed and lightly scolded him.
Later, once they did what they could and got settled, Michael found himself on Alex's back porch with cans of coke in hand instead of beer.
"I love the view," Michael said.
"There's deer that'll get close if you're quiet," Alex said, "You'll have to sit with me to see them sometime."
"Yeah, whenever you'll have me," Michael said.
"Whenever you want," Alex responded. He sounded like he meant it.
Him meaning it didn't stop his phone from lighting up, didn't stop the way Alex's face closed off, didn't stop the way he sighed and locked it back. He took a long sip of his drink before he spoke.
"Forrest is on his way," Alex said. Michael shifted in his seat and nodded.
"So I should go."
"Do you have work tomorrow?" Alex asked instead of saying leave, instead of saying stay.
"Yep, bright and early."
"Okay," Alex said, "If I bring my truck up there in the morning, do I get privileges where I can sit with you in the back while you look over it and tell me what I need to fix after it sitting in my yard for nine months?"
Michael swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. He was leaving, he had to go because it wasn't his place to stay right now. But there was a promise of tomorrow. Of spending more time together just because.
The privilege of it, Alex said.
"Absolutely," Michael said, standing up, "I'll squeeze you in."
"Cool. I appreciate it," Alex said, looking up at him with a smile, "And I appreciate you helping me out today. Made all of that a lot easier."
"Not a problem," he said, "So I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Wait," Alex said quickly, getting himself to his feet and coming closer. Without much of a warning about what exactly was coming, Alex wrapped his arms around his neck. Michael hugged him back easily.
Alex squeezed him; Michael squeezed back.
"I'm so glad you're back," Michael whispered against him.
"I've gotta come home at some point, right?" Alex whispered back. Michael nodded.
They held on for longer than they should.
"Alright," Alex said after awhile, letting go with a reluctance Michael wasn't so unfamiliar with it ached, "I'll see you in the morning. I'll bring food."
Michael didn't like to get his hopes up.
He decided not to be scared this time.
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Text
Thank you to @lost-immortality​ for commissioning this Death God Sans x Reader (plus a special guest~) piece! This was a joy to write!
The Mouth of the Underworld was legendary, to say the least.
It made sense that you’d want to see it, even just one time. When you entered and left the Underworld, it was through Sans’ ability to instantly bring himself anywhere he wanted, not via the Gates that separated the mortal world from that of the dead. Sans had been somewhat confused as to why you wanted to visit it (“not much to see, my love, it’s just a cave.”) but he’d been willing to take you. 
He was... concerned, however. If that was the right word for it. Because of what was guarding the Gates.
Cerberus.
Sans had raised the issue that it may not be a good idea to come to the Gates while the legendarily foul-tempered hellhound was present. He mentioned that Cerberus, while at the place he had unfailingly guarded for thousands of years, tended to become aggressive and overzealous; dangerous to be around, even for deities who normally had nothing to fear. Cerberus didn’t quite strike as much fear into the hearts of Gods and mortals as Sans... but that wasn’t a particularly high bar to cross- and it didn’t mean the creature was exactly beloved either. 
He was the reason Souls without Sans’ permission never made it out of the depths.
“Come on, it’ll be fine. I know you’re nervous but there’s no danger. I’m certain I’ll be safe if you’re with me, Sans...”
“you aren’t subtle. i know you’re trying to manipulate me.”
“It’s working.”
“yes, it is.” He stood from his desk, cloak manifesting from the silver brooches at his shoulders and flowing down his back like wine from a goblet. “we should go now, if we want to arrive before mortal sunset.”
...
It was an absolutely beautiful cavern. A cathedral-like white cave, pillars and signs of worship carved into the stone, sun beaming in from the cavern mouth... great ancient boughs of wisteria wound up the walls and ceiling, hanging thick grapelike bunches of violet and lilac flowers that filled the air with a sweet floral scent and carpeted the ground in soft purplish petals.
... And there he was. Cerberus... asleep as far as you could tell (thank the stars). Far, FAR larger than you’d expected- big enough to be mistaken for some kind of titan or hydra, enough to easily swallow unfortunate men whole. A looming skeletal dog; three great crowned heads, skulls bearing terrifying sword-teeth, the length of his body decorated with scars from years of defending the mouth to freedom. He was laying with his body blocking the mouth of the cave... you briefly wondered how many people had this silhouetted image as the last thing they saw before being violently sent back to the depths of the Underworld.
...
One of his heads, the middle one, opened a socket. Not asleep anymore. You flinched back- Sans placed a steadying touch on your shoulder, no doubt used to people fearing the Guardian. Cerberus had lights in his deep void eyesockets, like his master; observant and sharp as they rolled to land on you. How many Souls had he seen come and go? A single breath from one head sent up a cloud of petals.
Something new... 
... As if the central head had whispered to the others, the other two lifted and glared across the cave at you... you were safe with Sans, right? Right. You backed into him even more and he moved his hand to your forearm. Part of you wanted to ask a thousand questions, is this normal, are we fine? but the other parts of you didn’t dare speak in case it agitated the monster.
... Cerberus fully raised all three heads, dragged his clawed feet underneath him, he’s standing? The sound of bone scraping against rock filled the seemingly endless chamber, petals tumbled down from his shoulders and off his back, he must’ve been there for years... he turned...
...
... And leapt toward you. 
You were certain for a moment that he intended to crush you under one humongous paw but, to your shock, as he moved through the air he shrank. When he jumped he was a beast with teeth as big as your head...
... And when he landed in a light shower of petals, just before you, he was merely the height of a lion, his shoulder perhaps at your waist height. The guardian of the gates stood before you...
... Then barked, play bowed, and rolled onto his back.
...
You immediately gasped, dropping onto your knees out of Sans’ hold, rubbing the exposed ribcage like you were ruffling fur. Cerberus’ first head stuck out a glowing blue tongue, and the middle one barked again, skeletal tail thudding against the ground fast enough to resemble a heartbeat.
“Oh my goodness, you’re just... so fearsome, aren’t you?” You cooed, scratching his ribs. “The stories were right, I’m terrified! Are you the scariest beast in all three realms? Yes you are, yes you are...”
Cerberus eventually rolled back over again, jumping up, pushing his middle head against your face- you couldn’t help but laugh, enthusiastically petting him, and the first head insistently pressed against you too to the point where you would’ve gotten bowled over if you hadn’t quickly readjusted your footing to dole out attention to both.
... Sans chuckled. You were hardly paying attention to him. The third head, apparently a little calmer than the other two fussing you, lifted to greet Sans at your side.
“first you steal my heart,” Sans said, giving Cerberus’ greeting head a small, affectionate scratch on the jaw. “then a place in my bed. and now you steal my hellhound... honestly, when are you going to let me rest?”
“Never.” You wrapped your arms around the two close heads. “This is my puppy now, I’ll fight for him.”
“no need. you seem to be his favourite.”
As if to confirm Sans’ observation, you were gifted the blessing of a very gross lick on the side of your face by the head that’d just returned from greeting his master. 
... You soon realised a predicament- something that was, perhaps, the greatest tragedy that could befall you. It made your heart drop. You turned, looking up at your betrothed, rubbing one of the insistent noses that pressed against your cheek. 
“Sans. You can curse people, right?”
... He raised a curious brow. “... yes.”
“Find whichever horrible monster decided I could only have two arms, and give them the worst curse you have.” Two arms, three heads... injustice. “They need to suffer unendingly for their cruelty.”
“i’ll see to getting that done for you, love.” He teased. “until then... cerberus is one being, so i’m sure he won’t mind your predicament. he seems happy to receive the attention, regardless of the head.”
“You’re really going to look at this adorable creature and tell me you don’t want to pet every head at once?”
Sans laughed, seemingly unable to help himself, a beautiful dark sound. You weren’t sure if it was your adamancy to bestow love on Cerberus, or your declaration that he was ‘adorable’ that apparently entertained him so much... but it always felt nice to make Sans laugh.
“... Hey. Now that I think about it... looks big and scary, is feared through both heaven and earth, but is secretly adorable and gentle... you two are more alike than I thought you’d be!”
“come now. you can’t be saying things like that.” He smirked. “i have a reputation to uphold.”
You held Cerberus’ most affectionate head, the first, and pressed a kiss to his skeletal muzzle as revenge for his gross lick.
“... I know you said he comes and goes from the palace as he pleases... but I really hope he follows us. Otherwise I’m going to have to come here every single day.”
... You were half joking, in your dedication to return to see your new dog. But luckily for you, you didn’t need to make the journey- Cerberus, the ‘untamable’ monstrous hound, wouldn’t leave your side for a moment and loyally followed you and Sans all the way back to the palace, barking and wagging his tail the whole time.
...
Well. Now that made two ancient underworld-dwelling skeletal godmonsters that developed an instantaneous affection for you. Maybe you had a knack?
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lolas-writings · 3 years
Text
More Deaf/Mute BakuShin because I’m ~procrastinating~, so for all my BakuShin followers this one’s for you :3
[Part 1] [Previous]
“What were you thinking?” Aizawa asks as Bakugou tries his best to remain passably passive. He fails miserably since he can’t keep his eye from twitching, and he knows Aizawa can see through him like glass, but he’s stubborn so he keeps up the cracked facade.
“You can’t keep roughing up other students just because you think they dislike you.” Mic pipes up from beside Aizawa, holding his glasses in one hand while the other rubs the bridge of his nose, presumably staving off a headache. Which totally isn’t Bakugou’s fault, thank you very much.
“I didn’t even touch him.”
“Yeah, well both Shinsou and Midoriya say otherwise.” He can’t hear Aizawa’s tone, but the way he sighs and adjusts his new scarf tells Bakugou that he seems disappointed rather than angry. “So try again. What were you thinking?”
Bakugou scoffs and rolls his eyes, catching a glimpse of Shinsou sitting at a desk beside the window, pointedly ignoring the confrontation in favor of looking outside. Why he’s even in Aizawa’s office right now doesn’t make sense. If he’s already blabbed about their little altercation then he could just leave.
“What, I can’t go talk to my assigned partner?” Bakugou says with as much sarcasm as he can muster. At least, what he remembers speaking sarcastically feels like.
“Talk, yes. Harass, no.”
“Then fine, let me do the assignment alone.”
“No.”
“Why not? Koda got to choose to work alone, why can’t I?”
“Bakugou.” Mic waves a hand between Bakugou and Aizawa to get his attention, his phone turned so that Bakugou can see his screen. “Watch this.”
He raises his brow questioningly at his teacher, but Mic simply raises the phone in answer, staring expectantly. After a moment, Bakugou finally caves and sighs before he reluctantly looks down at the phone and waits for Mic to press play.
He notices after the opening segment that this is the video from their group assignment, the one they’re meant to analyze and write a paper on. He looks up at Mic confused, but is redirected back down to the video.
A minute passes before Mic pauses the video and asks, “What do you think the narrator sounds like?” How the fuck should he know?
“I don’t know, bored? They’re just listing off different types of fish. If I had to do that I’d die of boredom.” Bakugou crosses his arms as he speaks, subconsciously feeling small when he realizes the issue. But he won’t acknowledge it himself, he’s sure Mic is about to.
He doesn’t, surprisingly. Or at least he’s distracted before he can. Before Mic, or even Aizawa, can discuss the video, both teachers turn their head to where Shinsou is sitting. Aizawa says something along the lines of, “Say that again,” but since part of his mouth is obscured by his scarf Bakugou can’t be sure. Either way, he follows suit so see what Shinsou decided was so important to interrupt with.
“He’s sad.” Shinsou catches Bakugou’s gaze for a second before he pointedly looks at only Mic and Aizawa. “The text transcript can be misinterpreted as a standard documentary, but the narration proves that the video is a call to action. They want people to realize how endangered some marine life is and how important they are to their ecosystem.”
Once he’s said his piece, Shinsou turns back to face the window, his finger tapping on the glass where a cat sits on the other side. That’s… kind of strange, and gets weirder when the cat nuzzles against the glass like they’re trying to get to Shinsou. But that’s none of his business either, so he reluctantly turns to face Mic and Aizawa, already knowing he’s fucked.
“Thank you, Shinsou. You’re free to go.” Aizawa says as he looks straight at Bakugou, no doubt waiting for his star pupil to leave before tearing Bakugou a new one. From the corner of his eye he watches Shinsou collect his things and walk out of the office, the cat jumping from the window’s outside ledge and disappearing in turn.
“Do you see now, Bakugou?” Mic puts his phone away and readjusts his glasses. “I made this a group project for the entire class because I’m making it a group project for you.”
“If I can’t work alone why can’t I just work with Deku, or… an actual interpreter?” Bakugou grimaces at his own words. At which part, he’s not quite sure of, but either option sounds terrible.
“Because Shinsou offered.” Mic says so nonchalantly that it takes Bakugou a minute to realize how off that sounds. Shinsou willing offered to help him? For what?
“Why the hell would he do that?” He says before he can stop himself, but he doesn’t have the energy to act ashamed for the slip up.
“Because, believe it or not Bakugou, some people just do kind things for the sake of being kind.” Aizawa says this time as he sits down in his office chair. Bakugou assumes that he sighs, because he seems to do that a lot when Bakugou is around.
“He figured you didn’t want an interpreter.” Mic says as he moves to stand more directly in front of Bakugou in the spot left vacant after Aizawa moved. “I actually considered giving you an alternative assignment, but he said that would make you feel pitied and we all know that’s the thing you hate most. So he offered to partner with you as long as the rest of the class was partnered as well.”
There’s so many things about this new information that ping as off in Bakugou’s mind. Like why was Koda still allowed to opt out? And since he did, is there another person working alone or a group of three? Who the hell was Kirishima paired with because Bakugou could have easily worked with him instead.
But most importantly, why the hell is Shinsou being nice to him?
“Now that you’re aware of the reason behind our decisions,” Aizawa says as he sits up in his chair and leans forward, placing his elbows on his desk and resting his head in his hands, “you’re going to go apologize to Shinsou and you’re going to complete this assignment together. No partner swaps, no more asking to work alone, just get it done and turn it in by the due date. Am I clear?”
Bakugou huffs and looks away as he mumbles a quiet, “Fine, whatever,” not even waiting for a proper dismissal before he stalks out of the office and down the hall. Guess he better go apologize or whatever. He’s not letting his grade tank because of this stupid assignment.
141 notes · View notes
viridwns · 2 years
Text
when the moon reaches it’s peak
chapter 10 - chapter 12 chapter 11: nuisances 
Ciel Phantomhive x F!reader insert Word count: 7.5 K Warnings: cursing, slight gore, fighting, heavy injuries, talking about death, Undertaker
A/N: The long awaited chapter 11 is here hehe
“News reporters swarm the streets outside the St Thomas hospital. Many recording the window in hopes to catch a glimpse of what’s happening inside. An anonymous source has tipped us that this is the room where the daughter of infamous CEO [F/N] [L/N] is resting in a coma. The incident occurred—”
 The voice of the lady was cut off as Evan heaved a sigh. He threw the remote away on the small table in the corner, already having scrolled through 5 different channels and every single one saying the same thing with the same footage. He had closed the curtains of the hospital room a while ago when he saw small amounts of reporters flooding the street. He sat down in a chair next to one of the beds’. Wringing his hands together in annoyance; why couldn’t they just leave them alone for even a second. He looked at the calendar hanging on a wall in the corner of the room. He pursed his lips. 27 days—27 days since the incident. He was quite surprised that the news only found out which hospital they were staying at after Jacky went down too. He shook his head, having warned her to not enter the new company until after his father had opened it again, but he should’ve known that the stubborn woman wouldn’t back down that easily and now he had to deal with the consequences of her actions. The police were investigating the company on any gas leaks that could’ve caused this, but nothing could be found. They closed the building permanently until they had found the source of this misery. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Two of the people he holds dear are here ‘sleeping’ as the doctor called it. They should be shopping together, talk shit about him and make memories. Evan stood up from the comfortable chair, clenching his fists to try and calm himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and took deep breaths in and out. “Come on, remember what that nuisance of a woman taught you.” He held is breath for three seconds before letting it out again. “This should be the right room.” Evan’s eyes shot open as he spun around; facing the door. He cocked an eyebrow. In the doorway stood an unknown male dressed in a black suit. He rolled his eyes. “Who are you?” He asked the stranger bitterly. Checking him all over for any microphones or camera’s. “Are you with the press? I told you people to leave us alone!” He spat as he walked to the doorway, the other male responded with backing down from the hospital room. “I am no reporter, just an—acquittance.” Evan walked out the room and shutting the door behind him, not believing a single word. “That’s what they all say. Tell me your name before I call security and have you removed.” Venom dripped from his voice. His body was tense all over. He had no time for this absurd nonsense. He waited for the male to answer his question. His green eyes piercing into his red like ones. The man cleared his throat and readjusted his tie. “My name is Sebastian Michaelis and I am here to help.”
-
 “There are too many J!” [Y/N] struggled to breathe as she took yet another blow for Ciel, him piercing the zombie from behind her. She looked at Jacky who was currently on a lifeless woman’s  shoulders; twisting her neck. “We have to abandon the ship!” She yelled back. To busy trying to keep the zombies away from Alois. [Y/N] was so focused on her friend that she didn’t notice another zombie trying to get to Ciel. The earl on the other hand did. In the heat of the moment he took her hand and spun her around; catching her with one hand and piercing the corpse with his other one. [Y/N] yelped at the sudden move from the male, her reflexes grabbing onto the collar of his suit. He ripped his sword out of the zombie and whipped his head around to look if she was okay. “That was a close one [L/N]” He huffed as he put her back on her feet. [Y/N] was a bit dazzled as she kept staring into his blue eye. Seeming to get lost in it. Heat rose to her cheeks as a strange sense of deja-vu came over her. “Yeah—” She shook her head. What was this feeling? A smile graced her features as she fist bumped his shoulder. “—I am lucky you were there to catch me.” He scoffed and smirked. “I will always be there to catch you.” He teased. [Y/N] knew he was teasing, yet she couldn’t stop wondering if there were more to those words then just him being a cocky little bastard. She couldn’t give it much thought anymore before a large scythe came down beside her. Her vision blurred a bit as the impact made her knees buckle. A sharp pain flood through her legs as sharp edges of broken marble tiles pierced through her skin. [Y/N] let out a pained groan. The ground shook as the holder of the weapon leaned over her in the blink of an eye. Ciel’s eye grew wide, his hand reaching out for her to save her from the danger that was in front of her. “[L/N] my hand—!” He couldn’t finish his sentence as Sebastian took ahold of him and jumped up one of the few whole balconies left. He struggled in his grasp as [Y/N] was on the floor unmoving, her legs not doing what her mind is screaming. “What are you doing you imbecile! [Y/N] is still down there!” He screeched at his butler, but he didn’t let go of the panicking male. “My job is to keep you safe. I can’t take him on. We need to abandon the ship this instant.” He explained calmly as Claude did the same with Alois. Claude shared a glance with Sebastian before exiting the room with a barely conscious Alois in his arms. Ciel shook his head. “No! She is my servant! I will not leave her behind.” The hits he took made his brain al fuzzy, but throughout all the mist in his head, one thing was clear. [Y/N] [L/N]. Sebastian sighed, he knew what was coming. Ciel undid the bindings from his already loose eyepatch. His eyes trained on the trembling woman struggling to get up. The patch fell to the ground as one purple eye with sinister engravings revealed itself. “Sebastian, I order you to save miss [L/N].” It was like the whole ship went silent, an unknown force suddenly coming from the two males on the balcony. [Y/N] looked up, the energy luring her in. Her eyes grew wide as she saw Sebastian, his eyes glowing red. Her breathe quickened. Jacky was busy trying to get some rubble of her as the impact from the scythe made another staircase collapse. Her face was still bleeding and her dress was torn on the bottom. Her arms were littered with cuts and some bruises were already forming. “[Y/N]!” She yelled out her friend’s name as she saw the sight of the tall man looming over her. But [Y/N] was too focused on the now approaching butler. She couldn’t feel anything below her waist and her adrenaline was slowly seeping from her body. Undertaker laughed as he pointed the scythe at her neck; not paying any mind to Sebastian. “I wouldn’t try to interfere demon.” He seethed as his eyes scanned the trembling female. [Y/N] gulped, fear settling in the pit of her stomach. The pain was catching up to her and her body was giving out. She was certain this was where she would die. She was confused on what these two men were, but guess she will never find out. “Maybe I’ll return to my own time if he kills me.” She whispered. The razor sharp steel tickling her neck like a cold winter breeze biting at your fingers. “Orders are orders, Undertaker.” Sebastian said, or at least she thought it was Sebastian. There was a small twist in his voice that she couldn’t lay her finger on. Undertaker smiled. “But of course.” He lifted the scythe ready to slice down. Sebastian had picked up [Y/N] in the blink of an eye as the scythe came down. Though it stopped mid-air. [Y/N] looked at the male in front of her, he was struggling to breath as Jacky was on his back; her legs around his arms and her arms keeping his head in a headlock. “Run!” She wasn’t looking at her friend, but at the butler holding her. The command was meant for him, he locked eyes with the brown haired woman for a few seconds before running off. Leaving a tired Jacky and an inhuman being alone. [Y/N] tried to process what was happening when they were already outside and she was gently placed on a bench inside a rescue boat. Her mouth was slightly agape. Ciel sat down next to her, his eyes fixated on her legs. They were small pieces of glass and marble sticking out of them, but one large piece was bulging out her shinbone on the left. Ciel touched it and it was like that was the trigger for all her senses to kick in at once. She suck in a sharp breath as she swatted his hand away. “Hey! I am only trying to help.” He bit at her. His expression was one of anger, but that soon vanished as he saw the fiery look of [Y/N]. “Why did you leave Jacky out there!” She yelled as she smacked him on the back of his head. He let out a small ‘ow’. “You are crossing some lines here [L/N].” He rubbed the back of his head. She scoffed and grabbed the small railing of the boat, putting in all her effort to stand up, but to no avail as she plopped back down immediately. Ciel grabbed her arm firmly. “Hey, don’t do that. Sebastian is taking us to safety.” The boat gently swayed with the curves of the water, the butler peddling away from the hellish boat. [Y/N] only shook her head more. “No! We need to go and get her!” For the first time that she has known Ciel, she looked into both of his eyes. She gasped at the sight of the dark purple iris. “What—?” She went to touch his face, but he moved away. He quickly covered it with his hand. “I—I’ll explain later. But you have to promise to be honest too [L/N]. I know you are hiding something from me.” [Y/N] nodded at his words. She knew this conversation wasn’t inevitable, but it still gnawed at her. Would he believe her? “Fine, but we still need to rescue Jacky.” She kept pushing. [Y/N] would of jumped into the ice cold water a long time ago if it wasn’t for her body saying no to her. She needed her friend to be safe. Jacky was al she had left here, without her it was almost certain she would perish. Anxiety set in her stomach as she went to grab at her necklace. But as her hand reached her neck, the only thing she touched was her ice cold skin. Her hand trembled as she couldn’t find the only piece of sanity she had. A large lump formed in her throat as panic set in. The earl noticed this and parted his lips, but before he could say something a hand latched onto the side of the small boat. All three whipped their heads’ around as a freezing woman lifted herself over the side. [Y/N]’s face lit up, relaxation taking over her tense body. Her hand left her neck as the thought of the necklace slowly slipped from her mind. “A little help please—I’m dying over here.” Jacky looked up at Ciel whom was closest to her. [Y/N] tried to reach out to her, but due to her injuries it was difficult to move an inch. Jacky was shivering all over and her face had a blue hue over it. Ciel didn’t hesitate to puller her into the boat. She fell on the wooden floor which immediately stained with her blood. “You all didn’t think you’d get rid of me that fast, huh?” [Y/N] laughed at her friend whom was probably dying of pain, but still managed to joke around. Sebastian stopped peddling as he took some blankets and wrapped them around the undercooled Jacky. “This will warm you up.” He looked over her wounds. “The wounds can be fatal, but we’ll make it in time to the rescue boat so we can get you both to a doctor.” Jacky nodded and [Y/N] let out a hum. This was quite out of character for Sebastian, but maybe he was being kind for Jacky saving all their asses. [Y/N] shook her head as her legs were aching. The cold air made the pain miraculously more bearable. “How did you ever escape?” [Y/N] scooted to the side to make room for her friend, Ciel sitting on the bench in front of them. [Y/N] nodded at Ciel’s words. Herself being curious too. Jacky shrugged. “When you all ran away, he threw me off of him. He said something when I was lying on the ground, but the blow from the wall he threw me against made my head spin. I almost blacked out, but I had enough strength to jump off the ship.” Ciel huffed, looking at the ground. He wringed his hands together as he spoke. “I am sorry for leaving you there.” His gaze was everywhere but them. He obviously had trouble apologizing. Jacky smiled at his words. “No worries. You aren’t the only one wants me dead.” She joked. Ciel looked up at her, quirking a brow. Jacky winked at him and Sebastian huffed a laugh. [Y/N] huddled against her as she laughed. “Well I don’t. I don’t know about Ciel though.” Jacky shook her head and laughed. Ciel hummed as he cocked his head and put his hand under his chin. “Depends on my mood. I know for a fact Sebastian wants you gone.” Sebastian gave a hum in acknowledgment and Jacky gasped. Her eyes wide and mouth agape. She put a hand on her heart. “I am offended! I just saved yall’s asses and this is what I get as a thank you?! Unbelievable.” Shaking her head, Ciel and [Y/N] laughed. They locked eyes for a moment, a moment of peace was shared in that moment. The earl looked away first, staring over the ocean as the stars reflected on the pitch black water. [Y/N] pursed her lips, she wasn’t—No it couldn’t be—right? Jacky closed her eyes as the lack of energy was finally catching up to her. “Before I fall asleep—” She began as her body began to slump. Sebastian looked over his shoulder and Ciel glanced at her from the side. “—I want to make it clear that when I wake up, you better explain on why one of your eyes is purple with a star engraved in it and also explain what Sebastian is and like all of the people that were in that room, because I know for a fact that they weren’t human. I am just too tired to be surprised by it now. So except a dramatic reaction when I wake up.” Jacky continued. Ciel sighed and gave her a quiet ‘yes’ before rolling his eyes. [Y/N] felt her friend fall asleep. Now she thinks of it, her eyelids have been feeling pretty heavy too. The next thing she knew a yawn escaped her lips and her mind was taking her to dream land. Ciel witnessed the girl falling asleep and smiled softly to himself. Sebastian cleared his throat behind him and Ciel scoffed. “What?” He snapped at the male. Sebastian raised his shoulders. “Oh nothing master.” Ciel huffed and turned his body to look at his butler. “Come on spit it out. I don’t like being lied to.” He put his arm on his leg and rested his head on top of his hand, sitting like a schoolgirl ready to hear some gossip. Sebastian looked over his shoulder with an all knowing glance. “Well, if it was any other person. You would have left them on that ship.” Was all he said and Ciel sat up straight, furrowing his brows. “What do you mean by that?” He questioned the black haired male. Sebastian diverted his gaze from his master to the ocean in front of him again. “You care about the girl. Something I haven’t seen you do in a long time. Caring.” He answered nonchalantly. Ciel’s face contorted in confusion. The cold made [Y/N] shiver from behind him. She whimpered a bit as Ciel looked behind him to look at her. His heart strings pulled and tugged as he saw her face. He lifted his brows as his mouth formed a small ‘oh’. “I am engaged to miss Elizabeth, I care about her. She so happens to care about [Y/N]. I couldn’t just make her upset by telling her her friend didn’t make it.” He was still looking at [Y/N]’s face who was scrunching up her nose due to her being uncomfortable. Sebastian laughed. “You just called her [Y/N].” Ciel snapped his head back to his butler and shook his head as anger took over his features. “I am going to sleep, goodnight.” Was all he said before laying down on the bench, trying to make himself comfortable. Sebastian didn’t say anything as he kept peddling. Ciel closed his eyes. “You just called her [Y/N].”
-
The sun was shining brightly when the 4 arrived at the rescue ship. Sebastian helped Ciel on board as Jacky gave [Y/N] her hand for support even though she almost couldn’t stand herself. The earl waved over the medics that were located in the center of the relatively small boat. “We need help!” He yelled as 2 paramedics came rushing to them. [Y/N] was unable to walk and plopped herself against the side of the ship. She leaned her head against the rails as staggered breaths left her lips. She always imagined how much it would hurt to be impaled in some sort. Thinking she would handle it with ease. Turns out it hurts pretty fucking bad and she can’t handle it at all. As the girl tried to look down at the damage that was done, Jacky placed herself next to her, lifting her friend’s gaze with her white hand. “Don’t look, it’ll only start to hurt more if you do.” She dropped her hand back to her side as she shivered uncontrollably. [Y/N] pursed her lips as she followed her advice. She was aching to look, but couldn’t risk her brain to take in more trauma. She lifted her hand and grabbed the ice cold one of Jacky, rubbing her thumb over the back of her hand. Giving little warmth, but much needed comfort to her hurting friend. Ciel kneeled in front of the two friends as he covered his eye with one of his hands. Sebastian talking to the medics about what the damage might be. “Okay, you two need to stay awake a little longer. We can’t risk moving the two of you so everything needs to be done here.” He finished with a somewhat sympathetic look on his face. [Y/N] groaned as she nodded. This got to be the worst week of her life, time traveling included. Jacky bit her lip as she could feel herself slip in and out of conscious. “The cold may have lessened the bleeding, but I am still kind of dying over here and so is miss [Y/N].” Her head was drooping, but it made the glare she send the medics even more scary. Dried up blood still splashed all over her face. [Y/N] chuckled dryly as she tried to nod at her words. The medics locked eyes with Ciel and Sebastian before they kneeled down in front of the ladies. A male doctor in his 30’s took [Y/N]’s leg where the big piece of expensive floor was stuck in. He inspected it before gently placing it down. [Y/N] winced and looked at him, waiting for him to talk. “The piece didn’t go all the way through, which is a good thing as it lessens the possibility of your shin bone being shattered. The tiny pieces can be removed with a tweezer as I don’t think any internal bleeding has occurred.” [Y/N] tried to smile at the explanation, being happy the damage was pretty minimal. Ciel had a small smile on his lips as well that [Y/N] noticed and wondered if he was happy about the news or happy to hear she was going to be okay. “Is it weird that I don’t feel my legs? Should I worry about that?” {Y/N] questioned as the doctor laid out the needed medical supplies. He nodded. “No, It is quite common with the trauma, shock and cold plus the blood loss you went through, for your brain to shut off a little.” [Y/N] let out a sigh of relief as the doctor pulled out a syringe of what she guesses anesthetic. But before he could put the needle in her leg the other medic spoke up. “Is that the last one?” He questioned as he looked over Jacky whom was now laying as still as an object. [Y/N] furrowed her brows as she squeezed in the hand of her friend. No reaction. “Jacky?” She tried to provoke any sort of sound out of her friend to indicate she was still alive. Sebastian cocked an eyebrow as Ciel stood up and took a few steps back. Tears spung into the [H/C} haired girl as she tried to shake Jacky’s hand. The doctor held the needle in his hands. “Jacky?” She asked again but louder. Body shaking, but not from the cold. Sebastian lifted his gaze before sighing. The medic held his fingers to her neck. The silence that followed was thick and heavy. [Y/N] forgot all about her legs as she send small pleads to the heavens. “She is still alive.” The medic broke the tension as he lifted his fingers from the woman’s neck. [Y/N] let out a sigh of relieve as Jacky gave her a small squeeze back. She could barely feel it, but it was there and that’s all that counts. “I hate you.” She whispered as Jacky laughed a bit. Ciel put a hand over his head as Sebastian shook his head. “I am sorry, I think I passed out. I am still immortal after all” She said with all honesty as everyone chuckled. The medic tapped the wooden floor for a bit as he pursed his lips. “Miss Jacky has two bruised ribs, a sprained ankle, a mild concussion with a cut on her forehead that needs stitching and two surprisingly shallow gashes on her stomach.” He finished, clearly not happy to share the news. [Y/N]’s eyes widened as Ciel turned as white as a sheet. Sebastian tapped the floor with his shoe as if he wasn’t really sure what to say in this situation. The medic took the silence as a sign to continue. Jacky didn’t react as she stared the male into his eyes. “It is treatable, we can do it here with the rest of our crew. But there is one thing—” Jacky sighed. The medic gave her a sympathetic look. “—that syringe is the last anesthetic we have.” He finished as he fixated his gaze on the ground. The stressful silence was back. Jacky turned her head to look at [Y/N] and she did the same. “Give miss [Y/N] the anesthetic. If she does have a shattered shin bone, it will be hell to place it all back. I can’t let you do that to her.” She finished, looking away from her friend. [Y/N] lifted herself from the railing, a look of amazement on her face. Ciel grabbed her shoulders. “Don’t strain yourse—” [Y/N] cut him off as she swatted his hand away, her eyes still trained on her friend. “Oh no, we will not do this. There is a high possibility that my shin bone isn’t shattered, so the pain is minimal. You on the other hand—” She gestured to Jacky’s whole body. “—can’t even stay awake and have it so much worse than I do.” She looked at the doctor whom was still holding the needle. “Give her the anesthetic. I’ll be fine.” She countered back. The medics looked at one another before moving to Jacky. With the little power she had left she moved away, a load of blood streaming from her stomach. Sebastian smirked as he saw it all went down. In a very long time, Ciel started to feel anxious. He wanted [Y/N] to take the anesthetic, but Jacky clearly needed it more. “Cut it out [Y/N], take the damn thing.” [Y/N] was about to protest when Jacky reached out for the needle and snatched it from the doctor’s hand. Without a warning she plunged the thing in [Y/N]’s leg and let her body drop back down. “There.” She said. [Y/N] gasped at the small stinging sensation. Before ripping the thing out. “You asshole!” She gasped. The medics locked eyes with one another. Sebastian was also quite surprised at the outcome, but he was used by it from them. Ciel silently smiled at himself and thanked Jacky for being so selfless. People on the ship has started looking as the scene went down. Jacky smiled victoriously as [Y/N] bit her tongue. “Are the two of you going to help us or did I just waste that drug for nothing?” Jacky quirked an eyebrow at the medics as they scrambled to get their team together. Jacky looked at [Y/N] as she was glaring in return. “Can I squeeze your hand?” Jacky beamed at her friend. [Y/N] bellowed at her, it was too hard for her to stay mad. “Next time put yourself first please.” Was all she said before putting her hand once again in Jacky’s. Jacky nodded. “Never.” The two of them laughed as the paramedics all seated themselves around the friends’. “I need the two of you to step back.” The doctor [Y/N] treated shooed Ciel and Sebastian away. “Okay miss [Y/N], miss Jacky. We are going to begin.” Jacky looked at her friend for comfort. [Y/N] looked back. “I am ready.” They both said simultaneously.
-
[Y/N] had tears streaming down her face as her legs were being wrapped in bandages. With the help of two doctors, she was done quite fast. Her shin bone was broken and had to be put in place, but it luckily wasn’t shattered. She was happy for the anesthetic in her body otherwise she wouldn’t have survived it. Elizabeth had also found them as their whales could be heard all over the ship. The anesthetic didn’t deaden all the pain sadly. Lizzie was crying over the bench while squeezing Ciel’s side. Worried for her two friends’. Ciel hadn’t said a word since [Y/N] was being treated and only glanced over a few times as she made a sound of pain. Sebastian had helped the doctors with collecting warm towels and things that were needed. People on the boat had been luring over by the ‘operating’ site as to what the commotion was about. “Okay and done here.” The doctor said as sweat dripped down his forehead. [Y/N] wasn’t looking at him as she was focused on helping her friend. Jacky was laying on the floor as she was clenching her hand around [Y/N]’s hard. A few winches and grunts left her lips as the medics were busy cleaning and stitching her wounds. They also had to pop her ankle back into it’s socket which went wrong so they were still moving it around as Jacky was fighting to stay conscious. “Come on J, you are so strong!” [Y/N] tried to encourage her friend, but she knew it was all a bit helpless as the pain must be overwhelming. Jacky couldn’t talk as she tried to regulate her breathing and make as little sound as possible. The doctors whom were busy with [Y/N] left to clean themselves up. Before they went inside the ship, they explained to Ciel what the healing process needed and how long it would take for the leg to function properly again. Ciel thanked them and walked with Elizabeth to a frowning [Y/N]. “This just sucks.” She whispered to Ciel as she grabbed his hand for comfort. She couldn’t stand seeing her friend in so much pain. Ciel sighed and patted her head. “Oh poor Jacky…” Elizabeth whimpered as she looked away from the sight. “Stop—crying. Babies.” Jacky let out a groan as a medic twisted her ankle again. [Y/N] bit her lip. “Don’t talk.” She retorted back. Jacky huffed. “But that is—my favo—rite thing to do.” She stuttered through uneven breaths. Ciel chuckled. “We know.” Jacky tried to glare at him, but a sickening pop was heard as a medic sighed a breath of relief. Jacky on the other hand wasn’t so relieved. “STIK IN JE HUIG. DAT DEED PIJN.” She yelled out. The doctor tried to keep her from moving as the sudden torment on her ankle made her body jolt up. A few more foreign words left her mouth as her face turned as white as snow.  [Y/N] sucked in her cheeks as she knew what that sentence meant. Jacky had said it countless of times before when she was mad or in pain. Today was probably both of them. The medic mumbled a small apology before happily wrapping the ankle in bandages. “—What did she just say?” Elizabeth stood there flabbergasted at the strange words that just left Jacky’s mouth. “Something that a proper lady shouldn’t know.” An all too familiar voice sounded from behind the three. Ciel heaved a sigh as he furrowed his brows. [Y/N] didn’t dare to turn around, trying to keep her focus on Jacky whom had closed her eyes due to the pain. Lizzie was the only one to turn around and greet the blonde earl with a smile. “Earl Alois! What a pleasant surprise to see you here as well!” She cheered as the tears from earlier were drying one her cheeks. Alois grinned as he bowed his head slightly. “Indeed I am. A blessing I made it out alive and without a scratch truly.” Lizzie beamed at him as she nodded. “It is. Ciel your friend is here.” She prodded at Ciel’s shoulder, trying to get his attention on his so called ‘friend’. Ciel rolled his eye as a new white eyepatch was placed on his eye the moment he boarded the ship. He turned around and put on his best smile as he bowed at Alois. “My good friend! I am so delighted to see you here!” The happiness in his voice made [Y/N] shiver, the tone being foreign to her. She could still hear the venom dripping of the word ‘delighted’ and smiled to herself; Ciel wanted to kick his ass to the moon. “I see miss [Y/N] and miss Jacky have sustained heavy injury themselves? How horrible.” He said, if she wasn’t there with him on the boat she would have believed he truly didn’t know how they got these injuries. It disgusted her how good he was at spitting lies like it was some normal thing to do. [Y/N] still didn’t turn around as she kept on holding her friend’s hand. Ciel stood in front of Alois to block his vision from her. Alois’s eye twitched as he did so. “Indeed they did, but dear miss [L/N] has been treated already and miss Green is under operating right now.” He informed Alois like he didn’t know already. Alois nodded at his words. “If miss [Y/N] was in my care, she would have never gotten hurt in the first place.” [Y/N] froze as her name slipped from his lips. It wasn’t perse the way her name rolled of his tongue. It was the whole sentence that made a knot form in her stomach. In his care. [Y/N] peaked over her shoulder to see Alois looking at her from over Ciel’s shoulder. They locked eyes as she glared at him. Ciel put his hands behind his back, wringing them again. “What are you implying here Alois?” His voice was filled with disgust and hatred. He didn’t deserve to speak [Y/N]’s name. Alois simply shrugged as he walked past Ciel and over to Jacky, the doctors were stitching up her stomach. He kneeled down to her and [Y/N] never stopped glaring at him from the other side. Alois picked up Jacky’s other hand and in instinct [Y/N] grabbed his wrist, keeping him from touching her friend. “Don’t you even dare.” She spat out, wishing Jacky had never saved him from those zombies. He smiled at her as he turned his hand to grab her wrist in return. “Feisty, are we?” She gulped but never faltered her death stare. He heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes as he let her hand go as she did the same. “I just wanted to inform miss Green over here that the seller of the Dutch ground is here. Apparently he was also on a business trip on the Campania. But as she is unable to be a translator, sir Phantomhive doesn’t stand a chance and with heavy regret, I have to take him up for the deal.” He put his hand over his heart if he truly was sorry for taking the deal. Ciel flexed his jaw as he clenched his fists, trying not to explode. Jacky opened her eyes to stare at Alois. Her blue eye shining in the sun as her brown eye held darkness. “You fucking wish.” She whispered, the medics were wrapping up her middle as they were finally done with the 2 hour treatment. Alois raised a brow at her and stood up again. “He is willing to schedule a meeting this afternoon. I hope you have gathered enough strength by then.” He walked away as he waved. The medics lifted Jacky up to lay her on a small matrass. She grunted as she tried to lift her middle finger up, but [Y/N] stopped her halfway. “He isn’t worth your gorgeous finger.” She joked as Jacky huffed a laugh. Elizabeth came rushing to their side as they were now sitting in the sun. “We should arrive a bit after 7, so just hang on here!” She tried to encourage Jacky as [Y/N] stood up on one leg, almost falling in process. Ciel saw her struggling and came to her side almost immediately. “You really are stupid aren’t you?” He mocked her, but still lifter her arm to lean onto him as he helped her sit down on the bench next to the flimsy mattress. She laughed and winched as she sat down. The anesthetic was wearing down fast. Elizabeth looked at the two of them with a slight frown. Jacky noticed this and looked at the pair. They were staring at each other with a slight smile on their faces. It was like one of those movie moments where two friends came to realize they liked each other. The brown haired woman staired at them with her mouth slightly agape. This couldn’t be happening. “Lizzie would you help me please, I want to sit up straight.” Jacky tried to distract Lizzie from the scene as she weakly tried to lift her body up. “Oh are you sure—Jacky calm down.” Elizabeth put her arm under Jacky’s back as her arm slipped from the lack of strength, pushing her against the back of another bench. “Thank you Elizabeth.” “Lizzie.” Jacky smiled. “Lizzie.” She repeated the blonde. Ciel furrowed his brows as he looked away from [Y/N], a weird feeling forming in his stomach. It wasn’t unpleasant, but he didn’t like it either way. [Y/N] followed his movements as her lips tugged downwards. She knows she shouldn’t be feeling this way, but the way he was looking at her made butterflies swarm inside her. She looked up to lock eyes with Jacky whom was silently shaking her head at her, she knew that her friend was playing a dangerous game and that people would get hurt if she continued this, but those thoughts melt when she looks at the earl’s face. Her gaze shifted to the ground again. They needed a way home right now before these feelings develop more and more.
-
As the day progressed, Ciel had found the man whom he was competing for with Alois. He had arranged to meet him at the bench where Jacky was currently resting. Jacky had always been competitive, [Y/N] knew this. If she wanted to win something, she would. No questions asked. Even in this vulnerable state, she had pushed on that she wanted and could do business right now. Ciel had protested at first, but he needed this deal and Jacky was to stubborn to persuade. [Y/N] had scolded her and tried to get Elizabeth to change her mind. But she didn’t move from her statements. Sebastian didn’t interfere at all as he truly didn’t care about it. Now that she knew Sebastian wasn’t human, she noticed the differences in his behavior more. He was acting the whole time. She couldn’t care less really, but it also icked her to know who or what he was and why he obeyed Ciel. “Here he comes.” Ciel whispered to the group as [Y/N] was sitting on the floor next to Jacky’s mattress, Elizabeth sitting next to Ciel on the bench and Sebastian standing next to [Y/N]. “Good afternoon sir Phantomhive.” He greeted the earl politely as a thick accent was heard. Jacky chuckled a bit at this. Ciel greeted him back politely, eager to speak business. “This is as far as my English goes. Could I ask whom the translator is?” he questioned. Ciel nodded and gestured to Jacky whom was sitting up straight with the help of [Y/N]. “As I explained earlier, she sustained some heavy injuries and is bed ridden, but can still translate.” The male looked at Ciel questionably as Jacky shook her head and started translating what he said. “Ik heb een hevig ongeluk meegemaakt waardoor ik niet zo mobiel ben. Ik kan alsnog wel het gesprek vertalen.” She ended the sentence with a smile as the man nodded happily. Ciel looked inbetween the man and Jacky as he shook his head. “Please, sit down.” He gestured to the bench across from him and the man understood what he meant as he sat down. “Mijn naam is Johannes Hendrik Bakker. U wilde mijn grond kopen? Ik moet zeggen dat u wel wat competitie heeft.” Johannes laughed a bit as Jacky began translating it to Ciel. “He says that his name is Johannes Hendrik Bakker. You wanted to buy his land? You do have some tuff competition if I may say so.” She spoke fluently without a stutter. Ciel smiled at this and thanked the Gods for her. Sebastian was unamused as he could have done it easily if he just had more time. [Y/N] had a proud smile on her face as the conversation went on. Jacky translating every word and the two males having a pretty good conversation with one another. That was until a certain blonde and his beloved butler showed up. “Oh I am not interrupting anything am I?” His eyes were wide and full of innocence, convincing Johannes that he just happened to walk by. “Oh sir Alois! We were uh talking about uh—” The man seemed to stutter over his words as he looked desperately at Jacky. “How do you say het verkopen van de grond?” He questioned Jacky. She looked at Alois before sighing. “He was talking to us about the selling of his grounds.” Her eyes were full of disgust as Alois simply smirked at her. “Ah I could understand him perfectly, thank you miss Green.” He taunted her, if it wasn’t for her injuries [Y/N] was sure she would fight him right then and there. Without any consent whatsoever, he placed himself next to Ciel whom was keeping himself from murdering him. Claude took his place next to Sebastian and [Y/N] knew the figuratively battle of life and death had just begun. Alois straightened his suit as Johannes patted his knees. He leaned over to Jacky and whispered something in her ear. She rolled her eyes and forced a smile. “Of course.” She nodded. Jacky looked up to Alois and Ciel and with a heavy sigh she translated what the man had said to her. “You’ll have until the end of this boat trip to convince him to whom he should sell his ground. He’ll give the contract to the earl when we arrive back in London.” And with that the bloodbath was sealed.
-
 “How do I know you aren’t lying to me?” Evan tapped his fingers on the small table in the hospital room. His Green eyes searching Sebastian’s eyes for any sort of lie. Sebastian shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t, you have to trust me.” Evan squinted, thinking over the two options laying in front of him. Either let the strange man whom claims to know [Y/N] and Jacky help or kick him out. Evan always had trouble trusting people since he was little. Due to his status as ‘rich white boy’ not many people wanted to befriend him in his younger years. When he entered high school, suddenly people were begging to be with him. The attention was overwhelming, but welcomed nonetheless. He made a few friends and even had a clique. He never thought this would happen to him. He was immensely happy that he completely ignored the way they were using him for his money. Until one day his ‘friends’ decided to drop their little act and bound him in his own home. Robbing the place and vandalizing it. He had been begging them to stop, but they didn’t. But all of that wasn’t even the worse. It was when his little sister of 13 walked in on them ruining their home. She was about to run and call for the police when the males grabbed her and knocked her unconscious against a wall, fleeing the scene shortly after. They got the criminals at the end, but it will always stick with him how he was unable to protect [Y/N] and swore to never let something happen to her again. His trust was never restored and it even took him a couple of months to trust Jacky when [Y/N] brought her along for dinner a year later, she was in some classes with him as they were the same age. Her reputation, daily bruises and injuries made him think of her if she was some sort of criminal. but it was the complete opposite when he got to know her and has regret that he ever thought of her as something so horrible. At the end he still couldn’t keep his promise.
Evan sighed, he swore to protect her and help her no matter what. This man is offering him something the doctors couldn’t even do. He sighed. “Okay fine. How are you able to help?” Sebastian started grinning. “We need to bring them to the place where it all started. I’ll do the rest from there. Do we have a deal?” Sebastian stuck his hand out, but Evan stood up. “woah, hey hold on. I thought you had like a medicine or something. Not moving them out of a hospital while hundreds of reporters ware waiting outside to eat us alive?!” Sebastian stood up as well putting his hands in front of him as a signal for Evan to calm down. “Listen, you want them to wake up yeah? Keeping them here won’t change a thing, they’ll keep on sleeping and sleeping until the day you or your parents have to decide something no one would ever dream of doing.” His tone was stern as his eyes were sharp. Evan gulped as he looked at Sebastian, switching his gaze to look at his little sister. He was right, as crazy as it sounds, it is something and it’s his best shot for them to wake back up. He looked back at the male in front of him. Sebastian repeated himself. “Do we have a deal sir [L/N]?” Evan nodded his head as he stuck his hand out. “It’s a deal.” Sebastian’s smile turned even wider. “I’ll make sure nothing harmful happens to them.” He said as he shook Evan’s hand. “I’ll have your head if you try anything funny.” He glared at the taller male. Sebastian nodded. “but of course, you have my word.”
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luckysevenwrites · 3 years
Text
Who’s your bias?
Haechan finds himself in the hospital waiting to get an x-ray after hurting himself during a warm up. While his mind is filled with worries about his leg, he’s able to find some distraction in you, the x-ray tech who is an intern. Haechan didn’t think he would find anything to smile about while getting an x-ray but you prove him wrong.
Part of the long term couples series
Sitting in the waiting room waiting to be taken back to get his x-ray Haechan couldn’t believe that he was here. Who would have thought warming up to perform would lead to him twisting his leg wrong and not being able to walk. Glaring down at his traitorous leg he hoped that nothing was broken. He didn’t want to miss any more performances than the one he is already missing. He feels like he is letting the group down. Even though all of them assured him that it was fine and that they were more concerned with him being okay.
           Still, he couldn’t stop the guilt from forming. Leaning his head back he closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. His manager next to him glances over at him and assures him that it won’t be long now. That they’ll know the results soon and he’ll be back with the rest of his members. He wants that to be, his gut though is telling him that its more serious than what everyone is hoping for. Eventually a nurse comes in and wheels him into a room to get his x-ray done.
           “Hi there Haechan, I’m Dr. Kim and this is my intern Y/n, Y/l/n do you mind if they join us today,” Haechan shakes his head no. He could care less who is performing the x-ray he just wants to know how bad it is and how long he isn’t going to be able to perform.
           “Okay let’s get you onto the table.” Dr. Kim nods for the nurse to push him towards the table. You follow behind her and together you help Haechan onto the table and get him in the correct position. It’s as you’re placing a pillow under his head that you first talk to him.
           “Try not to stress too much about it. Even if something is broken, you’re young and you’ll heal fast.” Haechan gives you a weak smile. He appreciates that you are trying to make him feel better.
           “For my line of work, it would be better if I didn’t have a broken bone.” He admits to you as you continue to adjust him until he is just right.
           You pause by his hip and lean against the table. Studying him Haechan wonders what you are thinking and why you are looking at him like that. Like you want to scold him but also comfort him. He’s not sure how he feels about you looking at him like that.
           “If your fans are true fans, they’ll still be there after you heal and the ones who aren’t then they weren’t real fans at all. And from what I’ve heard your members will be there to support you through all of this.”
           “You know who I am?” Haechan sits up a little causing you to huff at him because you now have to readjust him. You gently push him back down.
           “Of course, I do. They told us who was coming in and we had to sign a bunch of paperwork saying that we wouldn’t say anything to anyone about you being here. Also, I’m a fan of all of you,” Haechan notices how you won’t meet his eye while you admit that part and he wants to tease you but you disappear behind the door, and he hears Dr. Kim over the intercom telling him what they are going to for x-rays.
           Closing his eyes Haechan tries to think positive. He can hear clicking every once and a while from the machine and before he knows it you are walking back out and having him sit up so you can help him back into the wheelchair. Placing your one arm around his waist, the other holding onto his bicep Haechan cannot stop his mischievous mind and he turns towards you bringing your faces within an inch of one another.
           “Tell me Dr. Y/l/n who is your bias,” Haechan almost loses it with how wide your eyes get. He somehow manages to keep a straight face while he waits for your answer.
           “Let’s get you into your wheelchair so you can find out your results,” you tell him instead and start to pull on him. Reluctantly he lets you move him into the chair but before you can get behind him to push him back to his exam room he grabs onto your hand and looks up at you with what he hopes is his best puppy dog eyes.
           “Please tell me. It would make me happy to know,” he whines hoping that you’ll give into him and for a moment he thinks your about when you start to lean in towards him.
           “My bias,” you whisper, and he nods his head encouraging you on, “is someone in NCT 127.”
           With that you straighten up and move behind him to start pushing him back to his exam room. Haechan throws his head back and whines.  Calling you unfair and that it’s wrong to torture patients that are already in pain. You just ignore him but he’s almost positive that you laugh at one point during his rambling.
           Rolling him into the exam room you turn him around in his chair, so he is facing the door. You lock his wheels in place and give a nod to his manager who has been sitting in one of the chairs waiting for Haechan to return. Haechan continues to pout, and his manager raises an eyebrow at him, but he just ignores him. He really doesn’t care who you bias but now that you won’t tell him he has to know. It’s like those do not touch signs, once he sees them, he just has to touch the thing he’s not supposed to. Now he needs to know who you bias.
           “Is it Johnny Hyung?” Haechan says before you have a chance to leave. You look over your shoulder at him and laugh.
           “I’m not telling you,” With that you turn around and walk out of the room. Haechan crosses his arms over his chest and starts to make a mental list in his head of who you could bias. You give off more of a vocal vibe than a rapper vibe when it comes to having a bias. Then again maybe you are more of a visual person. Haechan isn’t sure how long he has been analyzing who you could possibly bias, but you and Dr. Kim are walking in with his results.
           “I have good news and bad news,” Dr. Kim announces. Haechan looks over at you and you give him a reassuring smile.
           “The good news is that it is only a fracture. The bad news is, you have to stay off your leg and give yourself time to heal. That means no performance,” Haechan really wasn’t sure how it only being a fracture was good news, but he wasn’t about to argue with the doctor.
           He let Dr. Kim continue to go on and on about how long he would be out when he should come back for a checkup, and a bunch of other things that Haechan was not paying attention to. All he could think about was that he was out for now, he couldn’t perform and would basically have to lay around all day. And he wasn’t sure if he could do that. If he could just sit around for hours on end, he was going to go insane, especially since everyone else would be off doing things and he would be stuck at the dorm.
           Dr. Kim had his manager follow him out so they could get some paperwork taken care of and talk about in more detail what the fracture could mean for his future. You had stayed behind and once the two men had left the room your eyes turn to him, and you walked over, squatted down in front of him and placed your hand on his knee.
           “It’ll be okay,” you tell him, “Like I said you are young and healthy. Your bone will heal quickly, and you’ll be back performing before you know it.”
           Haechan looks down at the hand you have placed on his knee then back up at you. You quickly remove your hand from his knee and stand up. You look away from him and clear your throat before you look back at him. Haechan can’t stop the smirk that spread across his face. He likes you and he likes seeing you flustered.
           “Anyway, you’ll get a cast any special request on colors?” You ask and Haechan considers teasing you, just to see how much he get you riled up. But he figures that you probably are embarrassed enough as it is and instead answers your question.
           “I’m thinking red,” he tells you then can’t help himself with his next question, “will you be the first to sign my cast?”
           Your eyes widen for a second and again you can’t make eye contact with him. Then your eyes take on a mischievous look and Haechan is rethinking his question. Before he has the chance to take it back a nurse has come in and is wheeling him out to get his cast on. He looks back at you and you give him a wave of your fingers and Haechan has a feeling you are up to no good.
           When he returns to his exam room, he has a red cast on his leg, and he finds you sitting in a chair waiting for him with a sharpie in hand. He didn’t think that you would stick around and sign his cast he was only teasing.
           “Don’t you have work to do?” Haechan questions.
           “I’m off the clock,” you tell him as you stand and make your way over to his cast, “Still want me to sign it?”
           “Sure,” Haechan watches as you look over the cast before you settle for a spot on the side of his cast. You lean in and start to write, and he wonders what exactly you are writing because it should take that long to write your name.
           When you stand you recap the marker and give Haechan a triumphant smile, “You are all set. We’ll see you in a few weeks. Rest up well Haechan. I’m looking forward to your return.”
           With those parting words you walk out as his manager walks in. He gives you a nod as the two of you pass one another. Haechan’s manager then looks at the cast and then burst out into laughter. Haechan furrow his brow wondering what could possibly be so funny.
           “Why are you laughing?” Haechan demands as he tries to see what you wrote on his cast, but you put it in a spot that he can’t easily see.
           “She wrote ‘my bias is Doyoung’,” his manager chokes out and Haechan groans. He’s going to get you back and now he has something to think about while he’s on bed rest. He’s not going to let you have the last laugh that’s for sure.
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