#but when i say stranger things consumed my entire life for over a year | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherriegyuu · 10 months

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memories of us | lsm

pairing: seokmin x f!reader - soulmate!au summary: every night seokmin dreams of his past lifes, when he met and fell for his soulmate countless times. genre: fluff, angst word count: 11.9k warnings: reader has really low self esteem a/n: this is not, in any way, connected to elevator. both stories are centered around soulmates, however the rules are different. in elevator people carry marks that vanish from their bodies once they meet their soulmate, here is the bond is created by eye contact. i hope you enjoy it :)

Today, when I woke up, the first thing I thought about was you, but that’s not something new. You’re always the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last one before I go to sleep. My mind is consumed by thoughts of you the entire day. There’s not a single minute when you don’t make your presence noticed, even if you’re not really here by my side. The funny thing is that I haven’t met you yet and somehow you are the only one in my mind.

I started to dream of you when I was sixteen. At the time I had no idea of what was going on, I didn’t know what Memorous were, and I couldn’t even phantom why I was dreaming of an older version of myself. I was young and the naive teenager version of me thought that it was something everyone goes through. Ah, maybe these are memories from my past lives. I was right about that part, but I didn’t know the length of what was going on with me.

It was only a month later when I told anyone about it. Because those dreams were something no one ever mentioned around me before, so I was afraid to speak about them. What if, because of those dreams, people started to label me as a freak? I had already a very negative reputation, so to say, I didn’t want to make it worse. When I finally mustered the courage to talk to someone about it, I figured that I should tell my mom about it. She was a mother, my mom, and like all moms she would probably know what to do.

She didn’t.

For a while, she just sat there and stared at me, not like I was a freak but as if I had become a stranger. I was no longer Lee Seokmin, her eldest son who on most days seemed like the youngest. I saw her eyes change that day, from a mother who loved her son to a woman who didn’t know who the boy in front of her was.

It was also the first time that someone told me that I was cursed.

None of us could be sure whether I was cursed or not, but she said it with so much belief that I knew that it had to be true.

I don’t think I have ever felt so alone. Before my mother said those words to me, those words that would be forever stuck in my brain, you are cursed, Seokmin, and there’s nothing any of us can do to change that, I used to be normal - or as normal as a sixteen-year-old hyperactive boy could be. But the second those words were uttered, released into the world, something inside me changed.

I think that the best way to describe it would be a click, I felt a click inside my heart. There’s no other word I could use to describe it.

After everything that happened in the span of minutes, I changed. I started to be more restricted, no one else in the world knew about the dreams or about me being a Memorous. My circle of friends got smaller and smaller. What if, by accident, I told one of them something about the dreams, about you? That couldn’t happen.

In reality, I didn’t have many friends. You know, the kind you tell secrets to and are really close to. Those were the kinds of people that I wanted to avoid at all costs. I wasn’t a loner, though. I had people I could hang out with, people that I would go to a bar or a club with, but I liked to be alone.

It’s weird, isn’t it? I had friends but I wasn’t actually friends with any of them. I wasn’t a loner but the thing I enjoyed the most was being alone.

When I turned eighteen and high school was finally over, I moved away from home. For two years I saved every cent that I could, my main goal was to just leave. I studied my eyes off in school so I could get into a university that was as far away as possible from home. I needed to get a scholarship so I wouldn’t need to ask for help from my parents.

Doing those two things made me feel somewhat proud of myself. It was like I was telling them see just because you think I’m cursed doesn’t mean that I can’t do what I want.

Let me explain to you how the dreams work: every night I dream of you, no exception but every night is a different life.

This is how Memorous must live. I remember every single thing about our past lives, all the details that people usually forget about their lives. I remember them, more or less. I know what you were wearing on April 18th, 1811; I know what was the first word you said to me in Madrid, it was a curse by the way; the first time we bonded.

Sometimes it feels so real that I think if I look by my side, I’ll see you there. That couldn’t be true, I haven’t seen you in this lifetime - I would never be able to let you go if I had.

There’s a trick about being a Memorous though. Once I fall asleep and dream of a different life everything I dreamed the night before vanishes and I can’t remember anything. At first, I thought that it happened like that because sometimes we forget about the dreams we have. It was as if it simply vanished from my mind, and I could only remember it when I dreamt of the same life again. It’s like a selective memory kind of thing.

You know, the feeling of a dream being so real that you could either wake up in panic or just really happy and satisfied?

For me, every dream was like that. If I held your hand in my dream, when I woke up I would still get the feel of your skin against mine; if we fought for whatever reason I would still feel the sadness and the anger lingering in my body.

When I understood what was happening, I started to write down the dreams, every little detail that I could remember. Slowly I started to find a pattern in the dreams, slowly I learned to tell the lives apart and so I started notebooks. It’s a little weird, I know, but I had to keep track of our lives. Maybe, at some level, you might think that I’m crazy or that I’m a stalker. But could it be considered stalking when it’s my own life?

I can’t wait to meet you. Although I haven’t actually met you or even seen you this time around, I feel like I have known you all my life. Is this the feeling we’ll get when we finally meet, this feeling of fullness?

I wonder if you feel that too.

Out of all our lives together I have a favorite one. I mean, it is expected, isn’t it? After such a long time of living countless lives, every day being a different person - although I’m ultimately the same - we are bound to have a favorite one.

If I do say so myself that life is very much Shakespearean. Okay, so imagine this: two families who were very powerful but were opposites and hated each other with a burning passion. And there you have it. Sounds very much like Romeo and Juliet, doesn’t it? Maybe if it happened a couple hundred years earlier, in England, then maybe I could say that we actually inspired him, but we happened far too late.

You know, I still remember the first time I saw you that time around. I think that maybe that bond was the strongest one we’ve had, probably because we were supposed to hate each other. The idea of an unexpected bond between two opposite families is kind of thrilling, isn’t it?

We met at a party. Because our families couldn’t even stand to be in the same space together, mostly our dads - why is it always the dads though? -, they send you and me to represent the families. As you can probably imagine, we had no idea of what the other person looked like.

So, there I was walking inside this immense ballroom, and you were the first person I saw. Looking at you I just knew that you were out of place, that kind of environment wasn’t one you felt comfortable in. At that point, you weren’t looking at me but when you finally did, it was like the entire world stopped. I felt my heart thump inside my chest, but I could feel you too. I saw as you went wide-eyed. You took a step closer to me but then, realizing what you did, you took a couple of steps back. For the entire night, we didn’t approach each other but my eyes never left yours, as yours never left mine.

We followed each other through the night. I got angry, really angry, when someone wanted to talk to me because all I wanted to do was look at you. Whenever my feelings changed, I would feel yours changing too. You felt mostly curiosity. How could this man, someone you had never seen before, catch your attention in such a way that you couldn’t look at anything or anyone else?

Back then it wasn’t like today, you know. The bond happened more quietly, or maybe we only thought it did. Though the bond is something that has been around since the beginning of time, we only found out about it much later in life. I suppose that back then we still didn’t know much about it. Maybe the change everyone felt around a couple that was bonding was there but because we didn’t know what it was supposed to be we just overlooked it.

Back to the story.

You were the first one to make a move to leave but I couldn’t let you go, no way. I followed you out and much to my own surprise you were waiting for me, because somehow you knew that I had to go after you. We didn’t say much, just promised to meet each other a couple of days later.

From that moment on, things took off, or as much as you could possibly expect from a couple in the early nineteen century. We would always meet each other. Everything was exciting because no one could know about what we were doing. Besides the whole ‘my family hates yours’ problem that we had, there was also the problem that both of us were promised to other people. You were supposed to marry a young Duque and I had to marry the daughter of a rich family. If we were against it before, imagine what it was like after we found out about how we felt for each other.

Our happiness didn’t last very long. We were careless and, although we were trying to hide it, we weren’t as stealthy about it as we liked to imagine.

It’s needless to say that when our families found out they were far from happy. They didn’t try to kill us or anything that dramatic, but they started to rush things. Your marriage that was supposed to happen only a year later was set to two weeks later; mine was happening in a few days. Of course, neither of us accepted that.

On the night before my wedding, I felt something trying to pull me. It was like my legs were moving on their own and I saw myself walking out of the house and into the city. I found you there, all alone in the middle of the street, staring at the church I was supposed to get married in. I realized then that the sadness I felt was only partially mine, a lot of it was coming from you. I didn’t really understand how it was possible for me to feel everything that you were feeling but I knew that there wasn’t another explanation for it.

You couldn’t control your emotions and tears were running down your cheeks, you tried hard to push them aside, but it was of no use. The more you tried to make the tears stop the more they fell. I couldn’t control myself by then. You were afraid when my arm went around you but once you knew that it was me you turned in my arms. The tears that ran down your face were no longer out of pain and hurt, they were because we were finally reunited.

We ran away. We didn’t take anything with us. There was no time to go home and get clothes, or say goodbye. We were sure that if we were together then everything would be alright. Because we had each other nothing in the world nothing could hurt us.

That's… that’s as far as the dreams go. I’d like to think that we had a happy ending.

Two years into college I finally understood what my mom meant when she said that I am cursed.

You see, the dreams I have at night are just fragments, tiny little pieces of an entire puzzle. I could only see a day or a week, at most. But the thing is that I only saw us young, meeting, starting the bond, falling in love. Not once did my dreams show us a little older, getting married, having kids, or even if things didn’t work between us. I never dreamed of those things.

At first, my guess was that the dreams were trying to show me a way to get to you, find you in a world that’s filled with billions of people. That wasn’t the case.

One night I dreamed of you dying. I woke up in despair. Instead of the sweet dreams, filled with warm touches and whispered words, I faced images of you surrounded by blood, a lifeless body in my arms.

For a while I wanted to make myself believe that it was just a nightmare, that it would eventually go away but I knew it wasn’t that simple, nothing ever is.

I kept seeing the same thing for days and every day it got worse and worse. It got to the point where I stopped sleeping at all. Every time I closed my eyes I could see your body on the ground, eyes wide open. I knew that it wasn’t true, but I felt like you were looking at me, like you blamed me for your death.

I searched it up. If the same thing happened to other Memorous I wanted to know how to make it stop, if I could even do something like that. From task number one I had problems.

For one, Memorous doesn’t like to be clear about it, we are heavily judged by it because no one understands what it is like to be one. Most people just think that we are making a fuss over nothing, that knowing what your soulmate looks like, what that person likes and dislikes makes it much easier to find the person you are supposed to bond with. What they don’t know is that, like everyone else in the world, people’s taste, personalities and all else changes. In one of your lives, you were a dancer, the stage was your home, and being watched by people was something you thrived off of but in the next one you were a shy girl who couldn’t bear the thought of people looking at her (this actually happened, just so you know).

Second, there aren’t many Memorous in the world. We are considered an anomaly, there are very few of us. I believe that we will only be able to understand why we are born this way when a scientist is born as a Memorous.

But not everything is a lost hope! God bless the people who aren’t scared to share their stories because they want to help other people. I found this post, on a very weird and hard to find website, saying that there is a way to break this ‘curse’. That’s the good news. The bad news is that it’s not up to us to end the cycle. Well, technically it is but it’s not a choice that we can make. It’s confusing, I know.

Apparently, the only way for us to stay together for a long time is if both of us are born Memorous, meaning that you and I must know our past lives. The one who wrote the post was a young boy, claiming that it was his grandparents’ story and that both of them were still alive and fine.

It’s not much but at least it’s something. I can’t help but wonder if this time around you already know who I am.

I saw you today, or at the very least I thought that I did. I looked at my right and you were right there! Your eyes went anywhere but me, it was like you were purposely trying to avoid me. I went after you, called after you (even though I don’t know what you’re called in this life). It seemed that you were running away from me, though I’m sure that wasn’t the case. How could you run from someone you don’t know?

On days like this, I think I’m starting to lose my mind. The dreams are starting to feel more real than ever, and I don’t know what to do. Is it because we are getting closer to each other? Maybe we are in the same city? I hope so.

I’ve hoping for something, just a tiny signal, for the longest time. Was today it? I think about seeing you, how the dreams are now just a repeat of all the first meetings before, how every day when I wake up I have a feeling inside my heart telling me that we are getting closer to each other.

Are we? Does this mean that we are getting closer?

Maybe this is the universe’s way of letting us know. Because our lives, all of them, have been so messed up that this is fate’s way of apologizing for all the crap that it put us through.

I’m going to find you soon. Hopefully, wherever you are you’re also looking for me and that will probably make our lives that much easier.

You closed the journal and put it aside. You managed to hold yourself back while reading, you didn’t want the tears in the back of your eyes to fall on the pages, the precious pages that told your story through Seokmin’s eyes.

It had been hard to come to terms with the idea, the fact, that he was your soulmate but over the years you became more and more used to it. Your lives were too different, your backgrounds complete opposites, and yet - somehow - you were it for each other.

The first time you saw him on TV, you clearly remembered how you felt. It was as if someone had just punched you in the chest. On the other side of the tiny screen was the boy - now the man - you had been dreaming about for years of your life. You never thought that you would find him, especially so soon but then again if you thought about all your dreams, both of you seemed young - maybe even younger than your 25 years.

You stayed away from the TV for about a month after that, but you knew that it wouldn’t last much longer than that. The entire time Seokmin was in the back of your mind, always making sure that you wouldn’t forget him. That was simply something that would never happen, you forgetting about him - even if that was one of the many things that you wanted to do. Eventually, you found yourself turning the TV on again, watching every single program, every video, and buying any magazine that featured him.

Thinking back at it, you felt sort of stupid for doing those things and not just trying to look for him. You were right, your soulmate was Seokmin but your own insecurities were holding you back. Out of everything you had, there was one problem you considered to be major: you had nothing to offer him.

You were the kid no one wanted, the kid that had been tossed into an orphanage at the age of eight, and no one had gone back to take claim. Like a monkey on a tree, you moved from house to house without a chance of staying, even the prospect of making friends didn’t exist.

Growing up you always dreamed of meeting your soulmate, imagined the way you would finally meet the other person. In your mind you were always the hotshot, someone who could make anything happen with a simple word. As you got older you wanted to just live a decent life but all you had was a shitty rented apartment in a sketchy area of the city, a shower that didn’t run with hot water, and were living paycheck by paycheck.

That wasn’t the life you wanted, it was a life that you were almost embarrassed over. How could you ever share a life with someone when you could hardly sustain yourself? That wasn’t possible.

But then it happened. You got dragged by your friend to go to the TV station and watched as Seokmin recorded a program. Jun said that he wouldn’t notice you, that you would sit far in the back, and you could put your bangs down and cover your eyes so there wouldn’t be a single chance of the bond happening.

It was a lie, you knew that. Jun lied straight to your face, and you let yourself fall for it. You couldn’t say no to him, much less to his kids. Hana was so excited about it. Watching Seokmin on TV was her favorite thing in the world, more than dancing or watching cartoons. He’s pretty and funny, my soulmate has to be just like him, she said. It was funny and endearing to watch. Sometimes you just wanted to meet Seokmin because of her, because she was so in love with him. The day you decided to take a step forward was also the day you took eleven steps back.

“Are excited?” Jun bumped his shoulder into yours and smiled.

He could be the kind of person your silly heart would fall for if there weren’t any soulmates. Jun was essentially a good person, with a heart made of gold and filled with so much love that his kids would never go a day in life thinking that he didn’t love them.

“No" yet another lie.

You were excited, a little too excited. Or maybe your excitement was actually just fear. Fear that the bond might happen, fear that Seokmin would be disappointed in who you were, fear that maybe your dreams would come true.

“You said that Seokmin is pretty” Hana called out.

A moment of weakness that you regretted.

“Handsome, honey. Boys are handsome”

She repeated the word a few times as if trying to memorize but everyone knew that she would just keep calling boys pretty.

“Why are you carrying her around like she’s three?”

Hana sighed and hugged Jun’s neck, her head on his shoulder.

“I’m daddy’s little girl”

Jun looked like he was about to cry and Hanbin just groaned, his sister’s act wasn’t something that he was too fond of. You could only smile at them. They were almost too cute for you to handle.

You were one of the first people to get in so there were still a lot of empty spots to choose from. The second you and Jun started to move towards the back Hanbin and Hana protested. Of course, they didn’t want to sit in the back. Besides being kids, and too short to be able to see anything, both liked Seokmin so being too far away was not something that they wanted. In the end, you caved. You couldn’t say no to two kids who were doing the puppy eyes at the same time.

As minutes went by and the studio got filled with people you started to get nervous. You ran your sweaty hands on your jeans trying to get them dry, but it was useless. Every person who walked inside made your heart skip a beat because you thought that it could be him. It never was. The scared part of your brain told you that it was a good thing, that maybe he wouldn’t show up at all, but the other part, the one that wanted to see him in person just once, told you to just wait a little longer because he was going to show.

You waited, for over an hour and there was no sign of him. You knew that in this kind of event it could take them a while to get everything sorted but you were told that it shouldn’t take long once you all went inside.

“Stop,” Jun said, his hand on your arm “Don’t overthink it"

He was smiling at you kindly. It was the kind of smile that was supposed to calm you down and reassure you and yet all it did was make you even more nervous.

“What if we bond?”

“Then you’ll deal with it later”

What if I don’t know how to deal with it?

When people started to scream you looked up and saw the host walking in. He talked for a couple of minutes, made a few jokes trying to be funny and then he introduced Lee Seokmin, a TV personality. The crowd went crazy, there was a girl behind you screaming so loud that you thought you’d go deft.

Seokmin walked in, his characteristic smile in place, as he waved at the audience.

Seeing him in person made the world slow down, even your own heart. Instead of going crazy, your heart nearly stopped, as the sight of Seokmin put you at ease. Your hands were no longer shaking, you didn’t feel like trying to hide yourself anymore. In fact, seeing him made your soul scream at you it’s him, what are you waiting for? Your soul was begging you to go to him. After all, it knew him, because despite being apart for years it recognized him immediately.

And then Seokmin looked at you.

His eyes were on yours as he stood frozen there. You could feel him everywhere. He was shocked, surprised, caught off guard, hopeful, and just so happy. His happiness was contagious because inside you felt happy too. You wanted to stand up and hug him, stay as close as possible to him. The fear you felt for years was momentarily forgotten in the back of your mind.

Your legs moved before you could even realize what you were doing. You stood up and walked to him, stopping only a couple of steps away from him. You felt his heartbeat like it was just under your skin. Being so close to him made your body tingle in the best way possible. Your entire being was begging you to just take another step, just one closer to him, just so you could touch him and feel him all around you.

When Seokmin moved forward, his hand raised ready to touch you - just like you wanted to do - you took a step back. Suddenly the realization of what could happen came crashing down around you. Your dreams, and images of Seokmin lying lifeless on the floor that had been engraved in your mind were unexpectedly in your eyes. You could see it coming, your downfall, and the things you dreaded the most, happening.

“I…”

Seokmin wanted to say something, anything, but he didn’t know what he was supposed to. What words could he possibly profess that would make the fear running through your body go away?

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this"

Turning around and walking away from him might have been the hardest thing you ever did.

You tried your best to keep living normally but it was close to impossible. Every second that went by you were reminded of Seokmin, of the broken look on his face when you walked away, of the way he felt like he had somehow done something wrong. And he felt unloved when it was supposed to be just the other way around. Even before the bond, before you had the chance to look at him in the eyes, you already had feelings for him. Perhaps it was because you knew that you were supposed to love him, you knew that once you met him your feelings would be unstoppable, or it was just because he was charming.

And just how charming he was.

You didn’t know one single person who disliked him, someone who would flat-out say that there was nothing good to like about him. Everyone loved Seokmin, his easy smile and friendly eyes pulled everyone in.

“Until when are you going to keep avoiding him?”

Jun had become the personification of what was happening inside of you. You wanted to meet Seokmin, desperately. You wanted to find out where he was and just go to him, introduce yourself, and just talk to him. Everything seemed so simple inside your mind, and in Jun’s as well, but it was so far from it.

“You’re just avoiding it, you know that”

“So, what if I am? I’m sorry if I don’t want to see my soulmate die!”

You weren’t angry at your friend or even Seokmin, as he would feel sometimes. You were just angry at everyone else, at the world, at destiny, at anyone in the world who decided that it was a good idea to make you see your soulmate die every night.

“I know that, but wouldn’t it be better if you could spend some time with him? Let’s say that you’ll have six months together, that’s it. No more and no less. Don’t you want to be with him for as long as you possibly can instead of keep hiding in here?” Jun moved his hand showing the lounge of his dance school “Think of all your past lives, about how happy you were because you were with Seokmin. In this life too, shouldn’t you be able to feel that kind of happiness?”

Jun was the only person who knew that you were Memorous and he was also the only person who would say that there was nothing wrong with it. You aren’t cursed. If you ask me, you are one of the lucky ones. I would anything to have more memories with Seol. He was also the kind of friend who wasn’t scared to say that you were messing up your own life, that you were doing something wrong. Most days he would act like the dad you never had. You were grateful for him, for having someone so eager to make sure that you were happy.

“Here’s a wild scenario” Jun smiled at Hana, who was running to him, as he stood up “Seokmin doesn’t die"

His words left you speechless as you watched him move away from you.

When you got home that day Seokmin’s journals were waiting at your doorstep.

Reading Seokmin’s words was much like reading your own. Since you started to have dreams, you thought that you were the only one who felt like that, like the only one who didn’t have anyone else to run to. Yes, both of your lives were very different, the place both of you came from was also different. But looking at it or wasn’t all that different.

His words and the way he described his feelings for you were the things that made you take a deep breath and go meet him.

I know that you are scared, I can feel it but please reconsider it. I’ve been waiting for a moment like this for a very long time and I would like to believe that you have too. I’ll be in the city for a few more days so let’s meet. If you don’t come to me, I will go to you. We can’t run away from this.

Seokmin.

Somehow you found yourself getting out of your tiny apartment and going towards Seokmin. You knew just how much he could feel your nervousness and yet he tried to stay calm so you could feel at ease too. The entire time, since you left the TV station, you could feel him in your mind and it was like he was talking to you, trying to convince you to meet or just to be comfortable with the idea of him.

At times you could swear that he was talking to you, his voice clear in your mind. It’s okay, you don’t have to worry. It was like Seokmin himself could read your thoughts. Of course, there were moments when he would feel that spark of fear, and anxiety but most of the time he was in complete control of his emotions. He was doing that for you, there was no mistake, so you felt childish for being all over the place and guilty for bombarding him with emotions that you couldn’t fully grasp.

That was one of the many reasons why you decided to go to him. His words had been the main reason, but you also wanted to put your heart in peace. From the second you walked away from him your heart had been heavy. It was the kind of emotion that was impossible to verbalize, the only word that could possibly come to mind was lost. Your heart was lost. You walked around feeling like there was a huge part of you missing, your eyes looked for something, someone, that was never there.

It was like that until you got his journals. Although you didn’t feel whole you could feel that a little piece of you was back. Perhaps it truly wasn’t a part of you, instead what could be the missing was a piece of you never found before.

The missing piece had always been Seokmin.

You stopped in front of his door, your hand closed into a fist just an inch away.

The truth was that everything you felt, every tiny thing, could be summed into just one word: fear. You were scared.

For years you saw Seokmin die in your dreams, he died in a new way every night. You saw, more times than you could count, the life left his eyes as he took his last breath. Sometimes you would just hear about it from someone, just words thrown into a conversation – words that always managed to break your heart. It never mattered how you found out, it always happened suddenly and unexpectedly.

Whenever you and he were settling into a life together, when you allowed yourself to love each other freely, it happened. You always thought that your love for him, as his for you, worked like a time bomb. And the moment the bond was made was when your time started to run out.

The only thing you thought about was how if you never made the bond then Seokmin would be able to live a long and happy life. It was okay if once, just once, you didn’t find your soulmate. As long as Seokmin got to live, you were fine with whatever life threw at you. Many people went through life without ever finding their soulmates but that didn’t mean that they weren’t happy. It just meant that they had to find other ways to be happy.

“Just, please, knock on the door”

You turned around, startled by the sudden presence behind you, a voice that you had memorized a long time before meeting the person to whom it belonged. Seokmin was there, looking at you like he had just walked out of some kind of sappy movie with his hair a mess and a hoodie that was at least three sizes bigger than him.

“How long have you been there?”

He smiled at you then making you feel like your insides were melting. Seeing him was like making the bond all over again. Your hands were sweating, your heartbeat out of control, slow, fast, and slow. The air around you was heavy and the tension between the two of you was almost palpable, like a thin sheet separating you and him.

“Long enough to know that you’ve been hesitating, for at least, five minutes”

How was it possible for him to be so calm when you felt like your heart was about to combust? Having him so close to you made your entire body shake. You almost wanted to take a step back before you fell to your knees. It was like your legs were barely there to support you.

“I want to say so many things but I’m afraid that if I do, you’ll run away again”

You shook your head at him. This time around you weren’t leaving or running. You had made it this far, there was no way you were backing down. Somehow, seeing Seokmin in front of you made you feel stronger like you could fight the entire universe just because he was right there by your side. He wasn’t doing anything, but he looked at you like you were everything that he had been waiting for and then some more.

“I came so that we could talk” you tried to smile in reassurance, for him or yourself you weren’t sure “Do you want to do this here or somewhere else…?”

“I think that it would be best if we had some privacy”

You took a step aside to let Seokmin open the door to his hotel room.

You had always been scared of people, not of what they could do to you in the spot but of what they could cause in the long run. From a young age, you learned that you were alone and that the people around you never really wanted you there. For the foster homes you went through most of your life, you were just a way to get easy money; for your first boyfriend you were just a pity bet; for your high school friends you were just the girl they let hang out with them in exchange for assignments; for your parents, you were just someone, something, that they could easily toss aside when they finally got bored.

All of those things left deep scars on you. Though you did your best to cover them, they were always there right under the surface. You always smiled at people and made sure to tell them that you were perfectly fine even though you weren’t, even though all you wanted was to curl into yourself and let yourself feel all that pain.

Jun had been the first person to get through to you, the only one who had stayed long enough for you to think that maybe he was around you because he actually liked you and not because he wanted something from you in return.

It was true that Seokmin was your soulmate, that once the bond is made someone can never really walk away from it. You knew all of those things, like a book that you were constantly reading. Knowing something is completely different than doing it. The insecurities, always in the back of your mind, screamed at you louder than any belief or hope. Your brain always told you that someone like Seokmin, someone who had everything – and anyone – he could possibly want, would never stay for someone like you, bond or no bond.

“Do you want something to drink? I can get you anything you want”

Seokmin opened the door for you and pointed at the couch in front of it. As you had expected his room wasn’t just room, it was like a goddamn apartment – hell it was bigger than half of the houses you went through as a teenager.

“I… it’s fine. I’m fine”

Seokmin knew that you weren’t fine but chose to stay quiet about it, he knew that it wasn’t a good idea to tell you just how much of you he could understand. It wasn’t only because he could feel every tiny thing coming from you but also because you were like an open book, filled with words begging to be read.

“I got your journals,” you said “I also read them”

Your words made Seokmin sigh in relief. He thought that if you saw his journals, and read his feelings, you would be able to understand how desperate he felt, how much his feelings had been all over the place – despite him trying to remain calm. His feelings mirrored yours very much, almost in every way.

“Because you shared yours with me, I think it’s only fair if I do the same with you”

He looked up at you, surprise all over his face as you handed him the small box you had been carrying.

“I’ve dreamed about you, for the past ten years, too. Every night I saw you and fell for you, every version of you”

The surprise Seokmin felt, the happiness, and the relief that ran through his body the moment he saw you at his door was almost completely gone when he heard what you were saying. He wanted to think that maybe he heard it wrong but the look in your eyes assured him that he hadn’t heard it wrong. Your words had been loud and clear, ricocheting inside his brain.

“For how long you have known about me?”

Your heart was breaking, shattering into tiny pieces when you saw and felt the change in Seokmin. He held the box with your journals like it weighed a thousand pounds, his face was contorted with something that you couldn’t decipher but his feelings were clear, like the sky on a starry night. Seokmin felt betrayed, hurt, and unwanted, all things that weren’t true.

“Since you started, around the same time, since I was sixteen as well” you whispered.

Seokmin felt his heart drop all the way down to his toes feeling sick to his stomach. He had always wanted to find you, from the day he understood what his dreams meant he looked for you – everywhere and anywhere in the world. You were the reason why he even started to work in TV, he thought that if he got a job that required him to talk to a lot of people then it would be easier to find you. But the idea, now the fact, that you had always known about him but even then, decided not to look for him, not to take a step away from him, was like a slap to his face.

“Do you know that I tried to look for you everywhere? I nearly went crazy. Every day since my dreams, the memories of us, started I searched for you. While you…” he scoffed like the world had played yet another sick joke on him “You knew who I was but you never…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it; thinking about it – feeling it – was already bad enough. Seokmin didn’t want to voice it, if he did then everything would become that much more real, too real, more heartbreaking than anything else in his life up until that moment.

The dreams crushed his heart every morning when he woke up. Seokmin felt his heart die a little inside his chest for the life he never got to live with you, for the words he never got to hear from you, for seeing the bright light leave your eyes time and time again. But ultimately those dreams were just that: dreams, memories of a different period in time, of a different life that although felt real, it no longer was.

“I was afraid, Seokmin…”

“I know that you were! I felt it, with fiber in my body, I knew that you were scared, terrified that for some reason I wouldn’t love you. I knew all of that like it was my own fear”

The despair he had in his voice was felt in your body, every tiny cell. You hated that he was feeling like that, that your first ever encounter with him – a proper one – was only worth a fight. That was not how you wanted things to go. You thought that if you ever met him things would run smoothly but the reality of it was far from your expectations.

“Like you, I am a Memorous” you had to say it, you needed Seokmin to hear your words just once “The first time I saw you, like you are right now, was on TV but it was so fast that I couldn’t be sure. I was on the bus, passing by a TV store. The next day I stayed in front of the same store the entire day, waiting for that brief second of your face for hours. When I finally saw you I cried, right there in the middle of the sidewalk because I just felt so happy to see you, to finally find the boy that I had seen so many times before, the boy I loved so blindly, even though I have never met before.

“But the dreams… they are alive inside my mind. I don’t forget them like you do. My brain stores them like they are memories of this life, all those feelings were as real as if I lived them this time around. I thought about all the times I saw you die, and I couldn’t live through that again. I couldn’t let that happen to you, not after I saw you. I only knew you from the screen of my tv but my feelings were already so strong. I wanted the bond to happen, you can’t doubt that for a second, but I was scared. I would very much rather live knowing that you were somewhere out there, living a happy and long life than having you live a short one with me”

Your words were more than enough to make Seokmin stop. Until that moment, his mind was flying all over the place but the second you opened your mouth he couldn’t bring himself to be angry anymore. Those feelings, the fear of seeing your other half – the one you were supposed to be with – die, was one he knew very well. He often wondered what would happen when he finally met you.

The first time he saw you, he had been over the moon, he felt you and everything else. He felt the pull and your desire to get closer to him. To say that Seokmin was surprised when you ran away was an understatement. He didn’t truly understand everything that was happening inside of him, the unthinkable mix of you and him made him feel dizzy because he couldn’t set you apart.

He could finally understand the things you did but it didn’t mean that he liked them.

“I think it’s going to be a very long night”

Seokmin read your journals in front of you, and it didn’t feel embarrassing. Those journals, your words, had been written for him and for him only. While you wrote down your dreams you thought of him, of how he would read them one day and how much you wanted him to.

You spent the entire night in his hotel room. You talked for hours and hours and suddenly the subject wasn’t as heavy anymore, both of your fears momentarily forgotten, and you were simply enjoying each other’s company.

Seokmin was everything that he seemed to be, but he was also that much different. His bubbly personality was still there, fully out in the open for everyone to see, but there was also a shy side to him - one that not many people knew about but it was cute to watch. More often than he would like to admit, Seokmin would trip over his words, insecure about what he could and couldn’t say to you. The ice is still very thin, it’s making me nervous he said at some point in the night.

You had scooted closer to him or maybe he got closer to you, how it happened didn’t really matter. You found yourself sitting on the couch with your knees pulled to your chest as Seokmin quietly played with your fingers.

Just having him around you felt like a dream but the moment his skin touched yours? It was like fireworks exploded under your skin, like every single nerve in your body was suddenly awake. You could feel him everywhere, like he was not just the man in front of you, but he was also part of the air, like he could be all around you whilst staying in the exact same spot. He gave you calmness, a sense of peace and security. Things that up until that moment no one had been able to give you, not even yourself.

“I really want to kiss you” you whispered. Seokmin’s fingers stilled in yours and something sparkled in his eyes as he looked at you. The moment was suspended in the air as if it wasn’t neither here or there, as if time itself had stopped and all the attention was now on the two of you and the way you were feeling in that very second.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, you didn’t want to. It was the first time, in your entire life, that you craved someone’s touch and presence. With Seokmin you wanted that and so much more, everything that he had to give, you wanted.

Feeling like that for someone after only knowing them for a couple of hours was impossible, the kind of thing that you would never expect to happen, the kind of thing that you would laugh at because something like that couldn’t exist. But with you and Seokmin, nothing was as it seemed.

It was true that you had only known him for a little while but just in this life. When you looked at him you saw traces of the many different people that he had been in the past and because of that, it was like you fully knew him. That wasn’t the case, and you knew that, but even so, the feeling of reconnection still existed.

Seokmin inched forward, his eyes focused on your lips, as he interlocked your fingers and pulled you towards him. There was one second of hesitation, one tiny second that felt like an eternity before his lips finally pressed on yours and then it was pure magic.

Seokmin had to leave a few days later and you hated the idea of having to see him walk away. It wasn’t final, you knew that, but it hurt all the same. He had stayed in the city for you far longer than he was supposed to, his phone always blowing up with text messages from people concerned about his whereabouts when in reality he had been locked up with you inside your apartment.

On the contrary to what you previously thought, Seokmin didn’t care about your tiny apartment, about the fact that you had been to more foster homes than what you were willing to admit, or about the fact that you didn’t have a degree. I like you for you, not for the baggage that comes with you.

You sat at the airport for hours after his flight departed, the emptiness growing inside of you as the seconds ticked away.

Seokmin felt the same way. He wanted to stay or for you to just go with him, but he didn’t dare to ask. He knew that even though you didn’t think much of your life, you liked it. You loved to be a receptionist at Jun’s school, loved being surrounded by the kids, loved the city you lived in, and you were a little proud of yourself for being your own person and living your own life - even though you would never admit it. He got into the plane with a heavy heart, but he had to figure things out. He had to find a way for the two of you to be together. It was uncertain of what the future held for you. You could be together for just a year before one of you died or your entire life was still ahead of you. The not knowing drove him crazy.

Three weeks apart was all he could take before he found himself boarding a plane to the other side of the country and breaking a few contracts while he did so. You called every day, facetimed whenever there was a chance and texts were always a constant but just that wasn’t enough.

Due to the distance, the constant pull to you only grew stronger and the grasp he had of your feelings, how Seokmin could tell exactly what was going on with you, was slowly disappearing. It wasn’t that you were learning to control what he could and couldn’t see. Once the bond is made the newfound soulmates need to stay close to each other, it’s physically and mentally tiring to be away. He noticed that you sounded more exhausted on the phone, as your eyes nearly closed when you talked on Facetime.

All those things pulled him to you, yes, but Seokmin also wanted to see you desperately.

He didn’t tell you that he was coming to see you, he wanted to make it a surprise. The entire flight he felt just how happy you were, probably because you were at the dance school with the kids, but he also noticed your worry, because he hadn’t answered his phone in a few hours, as you tried to push it as far back in your mind as possible.

The long see-through glass walls of the school allowed Seokmin to see you inside. He heard your laugh before he saw you, the sound had been imprinted in his mind like the type of song that just gets stuck. And then he saw your profile looking at the little boy in front of you lovingly. When you smiled, he thought that his heart would explode inside his chest.

Seeing you, even from far away, was like going home after a long time. The feeling of calmness, the feeling of finally being able to breathe properly. Just looking at you made him lighter in a way that he couldn’t exactly put into words.

The kids were the first ones to see Seokmin. The little boy you talked to gasped, and his eyes went wide. All the other kids had the same reaction, some of them pointed at him while others just went back to what they were doing before.

You stood frozen in place and watched Seokmin walk from where he was to the door. You had to make sure that he was really there, that it wasn’t something that you were imagining. If it wasn’t for the cute selfies he sent you stored in your phone, you would be sure that meeting Seokmin and everything else that happened after had been nothing but a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time you wished for a life that could never have.

You got up and took a step away from the kids before walking as fast as you could - nearly running - towards him. He met you halfway, his arms reached for you before you collapsed into him.

You sighed in contentment and relief when you felt his skin against yours, when his warmth enveloped you. Everything else was forgotten and it no longer mattered.

“You’re really here,” you said against his neck.

His chuckle ran through your entire body and he tightened his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to him.

“Half a country away is too much" he murmured.

You stayed in place for minutes, long enough for one of the kids to get bored and call out your name a couple of times. One of them ran inside and got Jun, because the little boy thought that Seokmin might be holding you for too long.

“This reunion is great and all but it’s weird for the kids”

At the sound of your friend’s voice, you let go of Seokmin but you didn’t go too far. Three weeks had been long enough, you would take whatever few moments with him that you could get before he had to leave again. So you stayed by Seokmin’s side, your fingers interlocked with his.

“Seokmin, this is Jun”

“I was the one who gave him your address, how else do you think he would send you his journals?”

Seokmin looked at you, with surprise in his face. He hadn’t expected you to tell someone about it, about his journals, or about anything at all. From the moment he saw you, and even from the journals you wrote, he knew that you were the kind of person who didn’t tell those around her much about her life so it was a surprise that you had talked about it with someone.

“It’s good to see that things worked out for you,” Jun said, he looked at the watch on his wrist before looking back at you again “Go on, take the rest of the day off”

You shook at head, pointing at the kids behind him - who were already making a fuss all over the place.

“I still have a few more hours to go and you need help with the kids”

Jun just rolled his eyes when he took a few steps closer to you and Seokmin, pretty much pushing out of the door.

“I’ll let you know that there was a time when I managed this place just fine without you”

For the rest of the day, you walked around town with Seokmin. He held your hand the entire time, letting it go just to put his arm around your shoulder, either way, he always had his hands on you. You didn’t mind it, in fact, you liked it a lot. The idea of always being close to him made your heart flutter in impossible ways, made you imagine what life would be like when you finally got to be with him for more than a few hours at a time, it made you wish for a future when you would be able to see him every day and talk to him and just be around him.

“I’ve been thinking,” Seokmin said when you reached your neighborhood.

“That could be dangerous”

During the time you and Seokmin talked on the phone, he told a lot about his childhood and there was one thing that was clear to you: he was an unpredictable kid. His ideas were always crazy and so unnatural for a child. When you were in foster care you thought that the other kids were crazy, but they were just reckless, Seokmin was wild.

“I should have never told you those stories,” he said with a sigh, a tiny smile on his face “I’ve got this job offer, here in the city. It’s not like what I do now but I think that it could be fun and I’ll try to make it work as much as possible. If I do take it, we’ll be closer to each other”

You were shaking your head before he was done speaking. Seokmin changing jobs, and doing something else that was not what he wanted initially was a huge no.

“You’re not moving here”

He sighed again and took your hand in his.

“I know you’re worried about my job, but I only started to do it because I thought that it was the easiest way to find you. I can do something else, anything else, if it means that I can have you”

You turned to look at him, your hand squeezing his. His words assured you, more than anything in the world. Hearing those words was the only thing you needed.

“Remember how I told you that Jun’s soulmate mom is a social worker? She told me that there is this University, not the most prestigious one but a university nonetheless, that is more likely to give out scholarships. A couple of months ago I took the test to get in and I got the results a week ago”

Seokmin nodded at you, not really understanding what you meant. Truth be told, he was a little hurt. The second he mentioned it you were already denying it, like the mere idea of having him close to was repulsive. He knew that couldn’t be the case, knew that those things never reached your heart but even so, the feeling of getting rejected was there.

“I got in. I have to move there in the next few weeks or so, to settle in and find my way around town”

“Where… where is that?”

You laughed and kissed him quickly. He looked way too cute with the confused look on his face.

“I didn’t ask for your address just to have it, Seokmin. I want to be close to you so I was looking for a place near yours but also close enough to the university”

Before you even done speaking Seokmin already had his arms around while he placed quick kisses all over your face, making you laugh.

Moving away was harder than expected. There weren’t many things that tied you to that place, but the few things that did make it heartbreaking.

Just as you predicted, telling Jun was easy. Your friend, like always, had been supportive saying that he had your back in all the choices you’ve made and the choices that you would come to make.

His kids were a completely different story. When you told Hana about it, she started to cry, tears running down her little face and sobs escaping her lips. You knew that it was going to be hard to talk to her, but you didn’t think that it was going to be like that. Hanbin was easier but you knew that he was also feeling it.

“Will you call us every day?”

“I’ll call you every Sunday morning,” you said pinching her cheeks “We all know how much your dad loves Sunday mornings”

Jun groaned but he still had a smile on his face.

“Why do you hate me?”

It broke your heart to leave all three of them, but it was something that you had to do, not only because you wanted to be close to Seokmin but because of yourself. The change was something that you needed to do in order to move your life forward.

Moving day wasn’t as terrible as you expected. Seokmin had helped you move all your stuff, boxing everything to perfection. You didn’t have much you wanted to take with you but even so, everything you owned had been labeled and wrapped.

Somehow Seokmin had managed to convince you to just move in with him. You tried to deny him at first. It didn’t make any sense; you had just started something with him and suddenly you were putting your toothbrushes together. That was way too fast. “We don’t know how much time we have together so why waste it by being apart?” You tried reasoning with him “What if I can’t stand your habits and you hate mine?” To what he just said, “I’ll love all of your nasty habits and I’ll be the perfect prince, so you’ll have nothing to complain about”.

It all ended with a heated make-out session on your couch.

Seokmin was feeling edgy. He was supposed to be home hours ago, he knew that you were worried but restraining yourself from calling him. He loved his job, he really did, and it was amazing that he got to keep it and be with you at the same time, but he hated days like those. He hated the late-night shootings when he had to be away - especially when he could feel how worried you were - and he didn’t even like to think about when he had to do something out of town.

The drive back home felt endless. He broke God knows how many speed limits, and crossed a few red lights. He didn’t know why he was feeling like that, he knew that there wasn’t anything wrong going on at home. You would have called him in case something happened, he would have felt something change.

But at times he couldn’t help but feel anxious.

It had been four years. Four years since you found each other, since you started your life together, probably the four happiest years of his. But whenever he wasn’t expecting it, whenever Seokmin started to feel comfortable again with his life and you around him, his dreams would come back to haunt him. Instead of seeing you, in the past, he saw you as you were in this life. He saw the woman he loved, more than any of his dreams could have let him know, die in front of him, in his arms. It was always like that, you had a smile on your face, a tear ran down your cheek and you said that loved him.

On nights like that, he would search for you. His arms moved directly to you and pulled you to him as quiet sobs escaped his lips. You always cried with him on nights like that. You didn’t have those sorts of dreams, but his despair and fear ran through your body as if they were your own.

That night was just like that. The whole day he had a sickening feeling in his stomach. Like the world was telling him that something was bound to happen. The one thing that had somehow calmed him was how at ease you were during most of the way.

Seokmin walked inside a house in darkness, the light in the hallway the only thing that could possibly tell him that there was someone home. You always did that for him when he had one of his late nights.

You were sleeping in the bedroom, so Seokmin tried his best not to make a sound. But he knew that all his efforts were useless when he walked out of the bathroom to find the bedside lamp on and you looking at him.

“I didn’t mean to wake you”

You sat up and smiled at him, shaking your head. It was a good thing that he had woken you up. Your sleep wasn’t peaceful, no nightmares or dreams but although you were asleep you still had that weird feeling of being awake while sleeping.

“It’s fine, I actually have to talk to you about something”

Seokmin wouldn’t like what you had to say to him, in fact, you were pretty sure that he would probably hate it.

“I talked to your sister today” the words left your lips in a quiet whisper.

Seokmin stood still, his eyes focused on you, but his mind was somewhere entirely. He finally understood why you had felt so anxious and nervous during lunchtime and why he was feeling on edge the entire day.

“We’re not doing this” he shook his head.

“Seokmin it’s been 12 years, you’re going to have to talk to them at some point”

You reached for his hand at the same that Seokmin scoffed at you.

“You haven’t talked to your parents in 22 years and I don’t push toward them”

Seokmin regretted his words the second he said them. He watched as you tried your best to control your emotions and not let him feel just how hurt you truly felt about his words. You pulled back the hand you reached to Seokmin and tucked it under the blankets.

“I did try to look for them, Seokmin. I found them. It went the same way as it did when I was eight years old. They didn’t want me”

You never told anyone about that, it wasn’t the kind of thing that you liked to talk about. To be honest you didn’t even like to think about it.

A week before you moved in with Seokmin you searched for your parents. With Jun’s help, you managed to find them, quite easily. They still lived in the city, in the same house you lived in for the first eight years of your life. All it really took to get a hold of them was to find the documents they filled when they left you in the foster house. Your meeting with them didn’t last long, less than five minutes and they didn’t even invite you in. All the conversation was done at their doorstep. “We can’t do anything for you, we’re not parent material,” they said to which you answered, “I’m no longer a kid who needs care and protection”.

For them to suddenly find their inner parent wasn’t something that you wanted or expected but you thought that they could, at least, be part of your life but even that they refused. They only showed some kind of interest when you mentioned Seokmin and just by looking at them, you could tell that their interest was more on what Seokmin brought with him than for you.

After that you never mentioned them again, never allowed Jun to talk about it again, not even thinking about them was allowed.

“Just because people bond doesn’t mean they become good people, Seokmin. It just means that there’s someone out there who won’t judge your choices”

“Babe…”

Seokmin crawled on the bed towards you, his arms going around you and tangled his legs with yours.

You stayed quiet for a while, unmoving. That was your favorite place in the world, his arms. Even if you had just some kind of argument with him, even if you were hurt by what the other person said, you never turned your back on each other.

“I’m afraid if I let them in again the same thing will happen. I can’t go through that again”

You turned in his arms, facing him.

“They were probably just afraid Seokmin, the things people say about Memorous aren’t nice. Maybe they were just afraid to lose their son. Your sister did sound really sorry on the phone” you ran your hand on his cheek “You’re thirty years old, the feelings you had at eighteen are not the same and you certainly are not the same person. Maybe we could try talking to them, and if it doesn't work, it doesn’t”

“Thank you for reminding me that I’m old”

You giggled against his chest, which made Seokmin kiss the top of your head.

“You’ll only be old when our kids kids go to college”

Something in Seokmin’s eyes changed, all the anger and laughter from just a second before suddenly disappeared. He rolled on the bed, so he was on top of you.

“Are we talking babies now?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed your way up from his collarbone to his lips.

“You’ve been lacking in that department lately, husband”

He pulled your hands away from his neck and presses it against the mattress.

“I’ll be sure to make it up to you, wife”

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buckyarchives · 2 years

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BuckyArchives Masterlist

Welcome! I know my username says ‘Bucky’archives, but I do occasionally post character other than him and outside of marvel! Anyways, I’m Sophie and I go by any pronouns, I don’t share too much about myself but I promise I’m friendly and my inbox is always open. Enjoy reading and below is my full Masterlist and almost everything you need to know! Notes, reblogs and comments are VERY important, i don’t know what readers life or don’t like if you don’t interact so please, I beg — interact with me. Even if it’s small.

DNI! basic dni criteria (racist, homophobic, misogynistic .etc) under 16. just don’t come here to just stir up drama, don’t like what you see? Scroll. Not hard to grasp.

My AO3 | want to request something? Click here!

GUIDE | 🎞️=personal favs. ⚡️=smut. 🍂= over 5k. 🎟️= unfinished

series

Metal Arms and Short Skirts ⚡️🍂

Waltzing in as the new head of Avengers medical decision, impressing everyone and… scaring Bucky Barnes your incredibly short skirts. While Bucky is having a hard time seeing his arm as anything other than a weapon, you’re more than happy to help him

The Balcony scene 🎞️🎟️🍂

The one where theirs two winter soldiers, and now it’s time to make amends. Untill you and Bucky Barnes run into a homicidal 5’4 talk problem

The Domestic Life of Living With a Runaway Assassin 🍂🎟️

You hate many things in life. You hate soulmates, you hate the avengers, you hate guns, you hate loud snorers and complicated relationships. Bucky Barnes is associated with all those thing yet you can seem to hate him (Soulmate!AU)

One-shots + Two-parters

The Trials and Tribulations of Getting Bucky Barnes a Second date.

Bucky Barnes hasn’t kissed someone since the 40s and he needs some practice…

Little mermaid🎞️🍂

A mission gone rogue and Bucky Barnes has to depend on you to save him, and a few of your unlikely friends found midst the Atlantic Ocean.

Bedless

Relapsing wasn’t great, ever. But Bucky Barnes is there. (SH WARNING)

Day After Tomorrow 🎞️

Bucky Barnes’ enhanced hearing is both a blessing and a curse. Eavesdropping, loud music, footsteps and when his sweet neighbor has been coughing her pretty head off all day.

First impressions ⚡️

Who’s would guess that meeting Matt Murdock’s best friends for the first time involved drunk giggling and impressive cock-blocking. (Male reader)

Second, first meeting 🎞️

After the meteor, Chishiya notices the all too familiar person. Their pull towards you - like maybe you’ve met somewhere? (GN reader)

Night Shift🍂

After months of Bruce Wayne being a regular at the waffle house you work at, you soon realize you have been messing up his order the entire time (GN reader)

Untitled

You don’t trust the new masked vigilante, the batman, but after a couple flirty interactions and him saving you from a possible mugging — you begin to change your mind.

Untitled 🎞️

After many stressful nights dealing with the riddler and his fathers past, all Bruce Wayne wants if for you to stay.

We’re not really strangers 🎞️🍂🎟️

You got cheated out of your life and now you can’t trust. Sebastian stan doenst know how to love full heartedly. He’s in a movie you didn’t write, but you did, but you want admit it - or do you? Loneliness begins to consume sebastian, as for you but you are two people from two different worlds: yet this tug is so intense it will eat you both raw

5 Years of Peace🍂

You and Bucky go to Vormir

Graceland too.

Ellie Williams didn't care much for trusting new people, she needed to keep the ones she had. Until you came around.

Just A Game

if anything, you and Bucky Barne's relationship was just a game. Who will win and who will break?

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evwuniverse · 1 year

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Second Life and Hiatuses

One thing that needs to be talked about more is hiatuses. That sounds strange, right? You can also take hiatuses from virtual worlds, just like leaving work or going on vacation. In this case, I will aim this post toward Second Life readers, but this applies to ALL virtual worlds.

Whether it's due to virtual world drama, life getting in the way, or a break due to heartbreak, there are many reasons why someone might leave Second Life for a few months to even years. As odd as it may seem, I find myself going back to it after months and have even gone a year without entering the platform and then going back in. It's crazy just how much changes and how much you forget.

Those who have taken a hiatus know it's like starting over from square one. Many friends on your friend list don't remember you anymore, and the graphics have changed, meaning buying more updates and updating your avatar with the newest heads, body, hair, skin, etc. The list literally goes on and on. However, you can still start over. You already have a major advantage over the noobs, the fact that your profile shows your account has been active for 1+ year, and you already have some of the mesh items. Hence, it's just remaking your avatar to fit how you like it and organizing your inventory. Below are some tips to make your transition to getting back into Second Life more manageable.

Just purge your friend list - typically, this would be the hardest thing to do, but let's be honest, you last spoke to these people long ago. Congrats, you're now a stranger! According to statistics, most people on Second Life are between 32-70+ years old. I hate to say it, but many of them will not remember you due to their real lives. I know tough pill to swallow, but you'll be okay. If it's someone you still talk to through Facebook or through text or someone you know will remember you, then you can keep them but otherwise, purge that friend list. No one on there is your friend anymore (maybe if they are going down their friend list looking for some extra lindens to be sent to them).

"Spring Clean" your inventory - remember that long list of objects, clothes, mesh heads, furniture, and builds lingering around the inventory you haven't touched since last year lent? Yup! Well, it's time to clean it. Organize it and bring life back to the dreaded 23,000 items you've accumulated. Go to a sandbox, or if you have premium, your Linden home, and start going through everything. Start adding things to your avi so you know if it's something you want to keep or purge; go through folders and separate items into sections that make it easier for you to find exactly what you're looking for. This is something I've consistently struggled with for years. After being on Second Life for about 14-15 years, my inventory is completely crowded. Did you know that the more items you have, the slower your Second Life viewer takes to load? Yup! The more you know. So do yourself a favor and "Spring Clean" your entire inventory when you return; it's time-consuming but worth it later.

Work on your avatar - This one might be the most obvious; you need to work on it and bring it back to life. If it looks like one from the prim days, you're now considered vintage. Congratulations on being on Second Life longer than most people still play. In some sims in Second Life, that look still flies; you can be whoever, whatever, and look how you want. However, in a lot of the new sims out of the experience, it is frowned upon if your avatar isn't updated to at least a Maitreya body and free bento head of some sort (there will be later posts on the cheapest bento heads on the market and best bodies to get later on). We are currently on bento, baked-on mesh, bento heads, and bodies. If you don't know these terms, it's okay; you were on a hiatus; welcome back! Time to relearn. I will make a future post with some standard new terms for those of you coming back into this virtual world. -------------- <- (Updates will be posted there.)

If you're looking to talk with people, clubs are where it's at now - Let's be honest Second Life clubs have always been popular. Who doesn't want to sport out their newfound virtual pixels to the world on a gigantic dance floor for all to see? But to be 100% honest, this is where it has started, and this is the only place you will find a ton of people and breedable pet auctions (people love to spend money in here, I don't know about you, but as everything keeps rising I don't have it.). This is the best place to find people; don't let that discourage you from exploring some of the most amazing sims created by users like you.

Would you be interested in exploring? You'll probably be doing it alone; get a buddy! - Find another individual that also likes to explore because, most likely, you and that person will be the only ones there. This is because, just like all games, Second Life has been monetized. People hang out where they can spend money, shops, clubs, and gambling sims. Sounds like real life, doesn't it? As time keeps moving forward, that's what it turns into. To be fair, though, the advertising from these creators is top-notch, so it's straightforward to want to spend real-life money to get virtual currency. Trust me, though; many of these user-created worlds are worth exploring away from the famous places.

These are just a few tips on things you should consider doing after coming back from a hiatus. Second, Life is not for the weak of the heart, and there are always consistent changes. Relearning is worth it from the experiences you take out of it. Just like in reality, it's not all going to be sunshine and rainbows, but just remember that you don't have to put up with anything you don't want to. Peace and tranquility are only a skip, jump, block, delete, and "x" away.

#Second Life #Secondlife #SL #IMVU #Virtual World #Metaverse #Hiatus #Advice #virtual world advice #metaverse technology #gaming #cozy games

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whodarestoloveforever · 1 year

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We lost you on Thursday.

We laid you to rest today.

My entire life you were my best friend, and my Nana.

The dread and loneliness that consume me attempting to comprehend the reality that you’re gone feels insurmountable, but otherwise is indescribable.

And I ask myself a question almost identical to one I’ve heard numerous times before, but is now so raw, painful and real:

How can such a strong person,

a life brimming with so much energy and love,

a soul so powerful,

simply…disappear?

You lived life in a way that made the inevitable seem impossible. You made 95 years seem too soon. In the past 15 years alone you battled and fully recovered from heart surgery, a stroke, emergency surgery, cancer, and technically even covid. You could’ve lived forever, proved immortality is actually possible, and it would’ve been less of a shock than this. I genuinely never expected to outlive you.

Thank you for quite literally everything you’ve ever given me, and for all the memories I have of/because of you.

For the memories I share with D and H, and even with B; all the times I’d come over to your apartment on a Saturday evening, and we’d order Chinese food (was there ever a time you didn’t get sesame chicken?), then set up the pullout sofa-bed exactly the way you wanted it, and finally watch a movie or tv until we’d doze off. It didn’t matter how late mom and dad would pick me up the following day, they always came too early.

For all the trips the two of us would take to the mall to get dinner from some place in the food court, and then walk around and shop…and sorry for all the times I pulled you into Hot Topic, I know you hated going in there.

For the countless stories you got to tell me about relatives I never had the chance to meet.

Even for the times I took you to doctor’s appointments, because we’d still spend time together afterwards, whether it was going to the diner or Red Lobster, or just going back to your apartment and keeping you company.

And even for all the things that may seem unimportant or even silly;

Like when you were the only one who showed genuine anger after the girl who bullied me left a threatening note in my backpack, and you told me to “punch her right in her fucking face”.

Or that one time mom and I were at your apartment and she had seemingly gone through every channel on your tv, but still couldn’t find something you wanted to watch, so she gave up and handed me the remote. So I sat down next to you on the couch, then almost immediately found and put on IASIP for us; you thought it was the funniest fucking show(and of course you decided Charlie Day was your favorite before we’d even finished one episode).

I’ll miss everything about you, right down to the smart ass remarks, the multiple, sometimes nonstop phone calls, and the never ending voicemails that’d fill up the mailbox on mom’s phone.

I could go on forever, but it would never be enough; 5 giant trifold boards filled with cards and photos of you throughout the years with various family members and friends could only display the tiniest fraction of photos, and memories, that really exist. All of the family and friends in one room for you, and it felt so wrong that you weren’t right there along with us.

Your hair and makeup looked amazing. And I promise that you were taken care of by some of the best in the industry, at least one of them a former classmate of mine, so you were not left alone with strangers like you’d so often worry about.

Mom got you your newspaper and gave it to you along with $5;

Ash bought you your usual lucky numbers for the next lotto drawing and gave that to you;

I snuck a $20 into your pocket, just like you’d do to me and all your other grandchildren.

We made sure, and I think it’s safe to say that you’ve got pretty much everything you usually need and want, so you’re all set for wherever it is you may be.

The last time I visited you, before saying goodbye I told you, “I’ll see you soon”. I hope so badly that somehow, in some way, I’ll be able to.

#tw loss #tw death #tw grief #rest easy Nana♥️

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properantagonist · 2 years

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"Where the demons await me"

[Despite having been written a long time ago, this story was translated from my native language very recently, utilizing all my current skill]

A little backstory before I bring you with me down the highway to hell. This story was written back in 2014 (when I (shockingly) was 14). I was heavily depressed, the story was supposed to symbolise (I believe quite obviously) a second chance, while I still condemned myself for almost giving up. The story has been touched up and philosophically deepened, not that much though. It was mostly changed to reflect my current stances on certain issues of life, update the maturity level some would say. Yet, the structure and the idea behind it dates back almost 10 years now! I almost don't believe it's been this long. I started writing very early, all with the thought of one day becoming a published writer – at something like 10 or 11 years old. Obviously, all my work from that time was still on a child's level, but I had dreams. I hope those dreams can one day come true.

You are dust.

We all came from dust. However that doesn't impact our existence in pure theory, it's quite funny how easily wind blows us around. Our souls like sand, poured over from one nook to another. And those ashes materialised, ashes real and holding a physical confirmation, are the destruction of humanity. Scraps of high values and virtues glorified by society that when absent leave behind the old chaos dubbed the new order. A primal shriek desperately gasping for thinning air above the surface of an ocean of wine and opium. Wretchedness glimmering as a few blinded memories in the diascope of obscurity. The destruction of being, destruction of the boundary between life and death, common sense and straightforward perception, the destruction of the limits of mind.

A human suffering emotional maladies favours shallow illusions of joy that lets a speck of relief in for just one breath. Not long after it starts to decay once more, wither away, dry out. Festering sores of mind soon turn into overwhelming, black patches of necrosis, the glow in its eyes dissipates, the heart never to glint again. And yet, its life still flows down the cursed aqueducts of protruding veins on the self-convicted body's road towards doom.

Impure thoughts! barks the devilish preacher. Oh, if life was so easy. Impurity sounds in our heads since our youngest days, lurks behind a bare, pale collarbone and licks our greedy ears with its sultry whispers. Tears from mortal throats in moments of highest pleasure. And all that goes back to the most persistent base of our instinct, torn between the flaming wings of Eros and Thanatos shrouded in fogs of war, forever straining its muscles subtly like Michelangelo's David. There is one thing allying both poles of the realm of human impulses, that being irresistible thirst. Thirst of suffering and delight alike, nestled together as one, unable to survive without one another under the dome of the great universe we call our own.

This way indeed did I choke a thousandfold and one more time. Inside my burgundy veins floated remnants of a previous substance I had injected, having yet to make room for the next. There was one more concoction, however, pumping through their tunnels. A poetic background to this entire theatre of woe. A substance unknown to the medical body, and that substance was sorrow.

It's not particularly difficult to become addicted to sorrow. After a while one's unable to function without it, as it becomes the only sensation strong enough to break through the layers and layers of flesh rotting alive. Without it, there is only emptiness – the most dreadful plague of mankind.

It would seem that in this state the only form of sustenance left to consume is pure blood. Blood either of strangers, or of one's own.

I do not know if it was a matter of contingency, or of conscious intervention, yet I had been granted the honourable opportunity of entering the gates of hell without the need to give up my soul. The marbled alabaster flooring in the residence of the Dark Lord made for a pleasant view. The velvety carpet dark as duck blood reflected its wondrous shades of maroon onto the artfully polished pearly shoes I was wearing. The shoes stood upon a delicate heel, ornamented with threads braided of deadman's hair. Gold was cascading down the walls so high they would rupture the foundations of the heavens. Windows, which as those in a gothic cathedral would have possessed the ability to at once flood the interiors with blinding luminosity, were all shrouded in impenetrable darkness. And only the smoke, those of colour darker than the deepest resentments of a thousand most dastardly beings, bloomed over the steps carved entirely from a slab of stone, steps leading toward the throne of His Majesty.

Despite the darkness, I was able to clearly make out the far away scene. There were hundreds of silhouettes barely reminiscent of the human figure dragging along the horizon line. As my deepest suspicions have prompted, the hellbound convicts were without a shadow of a doubt all dead. Both suited up lawyers and rugged beggars. The modern bourgeoisie of pompous billionaires hand in hand with their own servants. Truth be told, in the end slaves and masters die as one. And all of them shaved smooth, all wrinkly and shriveled up in a hunched crawl of the eternal procession before a backdrop of the bloody night sky.

Lucifer grinned with the side of his mouth, from his sultry lips came the words: "Just wait. You'll have the chance of joining in."

Were they once just as confounded as myself inside the meanders of their own inside conflicts leading straight into a suicidal death?

"This is what I call a second chance. From time to time, life allows for little swindle." He winked.

I glanced once again at the horizon. All those lucky bastards having believed they had deserved death.

What's almost poetic, not one of them smiles even for a second after reaching that desired lethal outcome. They shriveled up even more in their bottomless thoughts, and in consciousness of how meaningless death is compared to the colours of life.

I felt the ground crashing below me, as if the ample carpet had suddenly lost its body and the shoes of mine lost contact with the marble. I seemed to have no use of my limbs and I fell until I was completely swallowed by nothingness.

...and to dust you shall return.

I woke up drenched in sweat, bloody, tucked into a corner.

"I found ya! Now run..." whispered a voice from underneath a cloak of moist, trembling air.

"Where...?" I managed to utter.

"Where the demons await me."

#dark aesthetic #horror #short story #writing #demons #satan #devil #depression #hell #im really bad at tags #please read #throwback thursday #throwback #old art

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ahoonterisahoonter · 10 months

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Horror In The Hills, Chapter 1

I've never shared my writing publicly, but I just finished NaNoWriMo and I thought I'd give it a shot. So, here's the first chapter of my new novel.

Happy Hills is perhaps one of the most poorly named establishments in history. For one thing, it is built into a mountain over two miles above sea level, an elevation that no sane person would refer to as a hill. Secondly, no happy thing has ever occurred in, around, or in relation to Happy Hills. It is a sad and lonely place, where people come to drink deeply of their own sorrows and find no solace. Every small town has a heart: a building, institution, or family that typifies the place and around which it organizes. Happy Hills is that heart for Learston, Colorado. The rest of the town is just as sad, lonely, and booze-soaked, a true cesspit of despair. Despite its height, Learston seemed to be a deep pit into which the pathetic drained, never to be free again. This was the environment into which I was born.

Everyone I knew from my earliest memories was a drunk. My father went to Happy Hills every night, and eventually made it home about half of them. On those occasions when I did see him, he was nothing more than an empty husk of a man. He died in a car accident when I was ten, and it barely felt like I’d lost anything, so slight was his presence in my life. My mom was a much more functional alcoholic, who managed to maintain a veneer of sobriety during most of the day. Only as the sun went down did she truly indulge, washing away any thought or feeling and leaving me alone in the night. Just eight months after my father’s accident, she succumbed to cirrhosis of the liver. My uncle, two cousins, and several childhood friends have all been consumed by drink, each meeting some alcohol-related death.

I say all this, not to disparage my town, and certainly not to sully the memories of my deceased relations, but simply to give the reader an insight into the mindset of my youth. I saw nothing but a long slide into depression and drinking, ending in accident or overdose. The reader may, perhaps, then better understand my feelings when the Franklin party came to Learston. Here was a different vision for my future. Here were adults that were healthy, hopeful, athletic, accomplished, and most importantly to my young self, free. That is why I have been for so many long years obsessed with their case, their disappearances and deaths. For me, that group of hikers represented a new path in life, a different way forward. It opened my eyes to the possibilities of life, and ultimately set me on the path to leaving Learston for a better life than any that awaited me there. To contrast these beacons of hope and promise with the actuality of their grisly demise, it set my mind at odds with itself, leaving in me a rift that I’ve spent a lifetime trying to heal.

This book is the culmination of that journey, and I will warn the reader that it contains fewer answers than I would have liked. However, it does bring to light many things that were previously unknown, and it weaves together a more cohesive understanding of what happened. Ultimately, the truth cannot be fully known. The only ones who can tell the story are the hikers of the Franklin party themselves. Still, I am not entirely a stranger to the tale. I was wrapped up in it nearly from the beginning, and this book is in many ways the story of my journey to discovering the truth as much it is about the hikers themselves. This is the story of the Horror in the Hills.

As with any good story, it is important to begin with an understanding of our principal characters. Most treatments of this subject begin with the group’s eponymous leader, Adam Franklin. I, however, will diverge from tradition and start by introducing the town of Learston. At the time these events occurred, no reports paid much mind to the town, it’s only connection to the party being their brief stay there before heading deeper into the woods. This made some sense then, but any further investigation makes it obvious that Learston is key to understanding what happened.

Learston, Colorado was founded in 1899 by Timotheus Lear. Or, rather, it was founded in his name. Timotheus never actually stepped foot in Learston, nor is there any record that he even traveled west of the Mississippi. More accurately, the town was founded under the supervision of Roger Stevenson, the foreman of the T. Lear and Sons iron mill. The mill was the original heart of Learston, the original bait that trapped the ancestors of many of the town’s modern day prisoners. From the first, the TL&S was an attractor of misfortune and ill news. Less than a year after the mill began operations, two workers were killed in a molten spill. One of them, an unidentified man in his late 30s, was completely buried and burned away to nothing in an instant. The other was less fortunate: Wan Shi Long, a recent Chinese immigrant, had his legs caught in the flow. Others rushed to his aid and pulled him free, but everything below his mid-thighs had been consumed by the fiery metal. Another day and a half passed before he eventually succumbed to his injuries, a period in which he never ceased to rant and scream about a dark presence that caused the spill. Official investigations determined the spill had been caused by a malfunctioning hinge, which had broken and dropped a vat of iron. TL&S was found not to be at fault.

Although that incident had cast a pall over the new endeavor, it continued to grow. This development was rather shocking to many experts who had been consulted regarding the mill. It had been determined long before a single hammer ever struck rock that there wasn’t enough iron in this remote area to justify the mill’s placement. Their assessment seemed born out by the mill’s poor financial performance and pitiful output. Still, it grew. In 1899 there were 22 workers living in makeshift shacks scattered haphazardly around the central building. Just three years later, in 1902, the mill employed over 200 workers. An additional 400 people had moved into the area, including wives and children. In that time, four more workers were killed in three separate incidents, with TL&S being found not liable for any.

Timotheus died in the tail end of 1902, and his son Matthew took over. Matthew took a much more hands-on approach to managing the Learston mill than his father. Despite its position as the least productive of TL&S’s many ventures, Matthew moved to the remote town, where he lived out the rest of his life. Under his guidance, the mill’s, and by extension the town’s, prospects seemed to brighten. Nearly a decade passed without any major injuries. The town continued to grow in this period, albeit at a much slower rate than the first few years, peaking at a high of 1,237 citizens in 1910. If one were to stop studying the history of Learston in this year, they may predict its fortunes to follow a similar trajectory to countless other similar towns scattered across the American West. Perhaps it would continue as it had, amassing more business and citizens to patronize them, or perhaps it would falter and fade out of existence, with its inhabitants at the last leaving for somewhere that fell in the former category. Learston, however, was not like those other places.

1911 was an especially bad year. The winter seemed especially brutal, accompanied as it was by a wave of illness that claimed nearly one sixth of the population. During February of that year, an avalanche destroyed the only road leading down the mountain. This essentially cut the small town off from the outside the world, isolating an already suffering people. It was during this trying time that a strange aspect of the region was first noted: there seemed to be a great dearth of fauna. Hunters tried their best to provide for the starving town, but they were unable to catch much of anything beyond a few small rabbits and squirrels. Elk and deer, notably, were completely absent from the area. The hunters were, however, able to bring in an abundance of birds in a variety of species; a variety that was not only surprising for an alpine winter, but that was unexpected for that part of the country at any season. The road was repaired and reopened in May, which was the last good thing to happen to Learston. Not one month later, the TL&S mill exploded. The official story was that a large store of dynamite that had been purchased for mining but never used was stored safely underground, but flecks of molten iron had, over time, bored holes down to it. Something got through one of these holes and ignited the dynamite, claiming the entire mill and all 300 workers on duty at the time, including Matthew Lear.

With the town’s heart destroyed, this would be the normal time for the town to die off, as widows and the unemployed fled for safer harbors, starving off the businesses that had sprung up to support them. Learston persevered. 1911 saw the opening of the Happy Hills bar, which has limped along ever since. A few families did move out, but the vast majority remained. The historical record is unclear as to how the stalwart Learstonians made a living with no industry to speak of in the area, but they pushed on. In this way, Learston continued. A sad main street has a few rundown businesses, but most of the town’s inhabitants are unemployed. Only six people moved in over the next 60 years, and nine moved out. All the rest of the population’s fluctuation is attributed solely to the two portals through which we all must pass.

So it was that, in 1971 when the Franklin party arrived at Learston, the town looked nearly identical to its turn-of-the-century predecessor. It would, however, not remain that way for long.

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #nanowrimo

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uncircumcisedgirlboss · 2 years

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In recent times, I have had a reckoning with how stifled my creativity is. Almost nothing about my life has personality to it. My bedroom is a featureless wasteland, most of my clothes are bland, I can't even think of a third thing to put here.

I wish I had nurtured my creative spirit more growing up. I wish I had written cringy fanfics, I wish I had drawn cringy art. I remember this self-insert character I had as child, Zach. The name may have been inspired by The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, but I'm not sure. The main thing about Zach is that he had natural black and white hair, a characteristic inspired by that Cartoon Network show about a cryptid-hunting family (The Secret Saturdays).

I would imagine Zach inserted into basically all media I consumed, from Percy Jackson to Family Guy. I would fantasize about being friends with Brian and Stewie Griffin via Zach.

Several times throughout my childhood, I came close to writing a story about Zach but Executive Dysfunction would beat my ass every time. As an adult, I desperately wish I had been more resilient.

I spend a lot of my time on the internet. I spend a lot of my time on YouTube specifically. The platform has such a grip on me that I can confidently say that if I quit watching it forever tomorrow, it would continue to be the form of media I have consumed the most five years from now. The reason for this is simple: YouTube is easy. Too easy, actually. YouTube is so easy, it has had a massively negative impact on my life.

For most of my time online, I have been a lurker. I didn't post. I didn't try to talk to people or make friends. I only passively consumed content.

Being a lurker on YouTube has given me the ability to get a simulacrum of social interaction without having to put myself out there. I don't need to develop a personality because I never have to speak. I can just sit back, relax, and form a parasocial bond with a stranger as they talk at me.

I have definitely avoided the most egregious and socially harmful ways parasocial relationships can affect your brain. I never felt like creators I followed should treat me like I'm their friend, for example. However, I still have some weird brainworms from my time on the website.

My entire life, I have tried to detach myself from reality in a myriad of ways, and one of them is by always living in the future and never the present. I would imagine a better life in some vague future where I had accomplished my dreams, and one of my dreams was to become friends with the youtubers I watched. Even nowadays, I sometimes still want that.

I have gotten about all of these things recently. I'm reading books again. I'm starting to talk to people more often (only online, though. Touching grass is scary. There are BUGS!).

I think Tumblr has been a good influence on me these past few months. It's relatively healthier and less toxic when compared to the social media sites I have used in the past. It's mainly text-based like Twitter, meaning it has a low barrier of entry. However, unlike Twitter, it doesn't have a 280-character limit, meaning I can write out my thoughts in full without having to make a thread. It also feels easier to get people to see my posts. Prior to my blog being labeled as spam because of a glitch, if I posted in popular tags, my posts would get a handful of notes. All in all, this site has been better for me than others of its kind.

Yeah, I have sunken so deep into the depths of social media brainpoisoning that frequenting a different app is an improvement for me. I see posts about touching grass and getting hobbies that involve consuming media all the time, and I am over here wishing I had the willpower to watch a movie.

#my posts

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linkspooky · 4 years

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Yuji, Alone.

I have been saying in my past few meta that Yuji has a really unhealthy way of viewing both himself, and his relationships with others. Yuji is excellent at reading the feelings of others and empathizing with them, and at the same time terrible at processing his own emotions, a trait he shares with Geto who he is once again paralleling this chapter by choosing to stew in isolation rather than reach out for support.

Chapter 138 does an excellent job of showing how deep these issues run, which I will explain under the cut.

1. Yuji and Geto

If I were to explain the unhealthy mindset Yuji has by simplifying it down to one sentenence, simply stated it would be “I want to help others, but I don’t want to accept help from other people.”

Both Yuji and Geto are so motivated by empathy they feel like they are responsible for solving other people’s problems, and they often use other people rather than themselves as a reason to move. They’re actually selfless to a fault. In that, it’s a problem in their behavior. They do everything they do for other peope, so they have no idea what they themselves want. If Gojo is someone who has a strong self image, a strong set of beliefs, an idea of what he wants to do to the world, Geto and Yuji are people who try not to think about themselves at all.

Not only does Yuji almost never critically exam his own motivations, but he also doesn’t think of his relationships with other people.

This is something Yaga pointed out as a danger with Yuji’s way of going about things, all the way at the beginning of his arc. If you’re doing it because your grandpa told you so, then is it really something you want to do? When you die, is it going to be your grandpa’s fault too?

Yuji is someone who seems selfless on the surface, and to an extent he is, but just like Geto that’s not all there is to him. It’s something Gojo called out early on, Geto presented himself as someone selfless, motivated entirely by using his powers to protect others, but he was also doing so self righteously.

To clarify what I mean by self righteous, Geto believed that he was doing something because it was the objective right thing to do, but actually it was just his own personal feelings. That’s why after Riko’s death forced him to critically examine himself, he realized he didn’t want to follow the rules of Jujutsu Society.

Both Yuji and Geto pay attention to others, but also have the blinders on in regards to themselves, and that’s the parallel right there. Yuji says he is doing these things for other people, that his number one priority is to save them but that motivation is even deconstructed in the third chapter.

Yuji’s not actually doing this for purely altruistic reasons, but for selfish ones. He wanted to do something that nobody else could do. Yuji’s life was like a vaccuum before this point. He didn’t have any real friends, or anything he wanted to do. Suddenly he had a purpose basically gift wrapped and handed to him on his lap.

Basically, Yuji and Geto both have this schewed way of seeing other people. They thing other people exist to validate their own existences.

To put it simply. If Hidden Inventory Geto helps weak people than he’s valid. If Yuji helps people, then he’s valid.

Not only is the way they view themselves built around how they help other people, but at the same time all of their relationships are built up on this as well. Relationships that are built upon shaky foundations will crumble apart easily when tested.

Geto’s most important relationship was with Gojo, they had an intense chemistry and interaction with one another like they were made for each other. They were both good at naturally balancing each other out, Geto was the one who stood up to Gojo and acted like a tether, and Gojo ackonwledged Geto as his one and only.

However, the relationship was also built on the idea that Gojo needed Geto. Geto was only able to view his relationships with other people in that way. Geto, wants to take care of people, wants to help people. However, eventually, he was left behind by Gojo who no longer needed him as a partner in combat. On top of that, Geto awoke to a higher purpose in ridding the world of cursed energy. Geto wants to be needed by somebody in the same sense that Yuji does, so for Geto at least being needed to save the whole world in his eyes, was just more important than maintaining his relationship with Gojo.

Which is why both Geto and Yuji’s relationships fall apart. They are great at making relationshisps, but not at maintaining them. Attention is drawn to the fact that the trio has great chemistry with each other and get along well, but they’re also terrible at communicating with each other.

"The seats... in my life... How should I put this? I don't want my heart to be affected by people who don't have a place there. Does that sound cold? Well, I guess there are also guys like you who brings their own chair and takes a seat." Translation by Miho.

Almost literally, I don’t want anyone who’s not a part of my life to try to talk to me or tell me what to do. Also the reference that Yuji is kind of different because Yuji just kind of walked into her life unannounced and invited himself there (this is how Yuji forms relationships with everyone.)

All three of them go behind each other’s backs and keep secrets from one another. All three of them avoid direct confrontation, Nobara even says she doesn’t really want anyone else even trying to tell her how to live her life. The Origin of Obedience arc shows that Nobara, Yuji and Megumi are all good at fighting together as a team, but also questioning if they have a healthy friendship outside of that?

Any relationship takes work, confrontation, arguments and even just plain old talking about things. However, someone who is primarily insecure in their relationships will not be able to do things. Couples shouldn’t only argue, but couples who never argue is just as unhealthy. If you are so afraid that one argument is going to end a relationship, then your relationship was fragile to begin with.

Yuji and Geto experience conditional relatinoships. In the sense that, they are only allowed to have friends, if they are helpful to those friends. They themselves are never allowed to ask for help. It’s true that Gojo was kind of blind to Geto’s faults, but also Geto would have never asked for help. Gojo could not see, and Geto deliberately hid things from them.

Geto always makes his relationships on the condition that he is needed. When Gojo grew more independent, Geto took that as a sign that Gojo didn’t need him anymore and deliberately started to pull away.

Because, Geto isn’t ever allowed to be the one who needs someone else.

2. Avoidant Attachment

This is just a personal theory of mine, but I think Yuji’s issues might even center around the psychological idea of attachment theory. Especially it’s since deliberately mentioned to Junpei, that Yuji never met his mother.

Attachment theory is a complex idea, but basically it states that attachment to other people, that is the idea to form healthy relationships with family members, friends, romantic partners is learned instead of naturally present in us. It’s a skill people develop in their formative years.

Those who show patterns of problematic attachment in childhood will continue the behavior into adulthood unless it’s corrected, because attachment is a skill that’s developed the same as anything else. Of the four categories, Yuji and Geto most resemble this one.

Avoidant attachment: Children with an avoidant attachment tend to avoid parents or caregivers, showing no preference between a caregiver and a complete stranger. This attachment style might be a result of abusive or neglectful caregivers. Children who are punished for relying on a caregiver will learn to avoid seeking help in the future.

Which goes further to explain how they can be so empathic towards other people, and yet the same time completely unable to maintain close relationships with them. It’s because, they avoid people at the same time. They don’t seek out help when they need it, because, deep down they view themselves as unworthy of the help.

Geto did not immediately break after the trauma of losing Riko, it was the year of isolation after that where he slowly was consumed by his regrets. Geto got worse and worse over a period of time because he couldn’t handle his trauma in any healthy way, until he just completely snapped.

During that time he asked himself the same questions over and over again, but Geto wasn’t able to find any kind of healthy answer to his questions because, he didn’t reach out for anybody. It wasn’t just the trauma, it was the behavior after the trauma, the decision to isolate himself for over a year. No one does well in isolation. You need other people to grow or develop. If anything Geto stagnated. Geto’s central flaw was his self-righteousness. Rather than realizing he was wrong and trying to change this flaw of his, he just doubles down and becomes even more self righteous. He goes from believing he’s responsible for protecting all the weak people, to believing he’s a superior being tasked with eliminating all the weak people in the world. So, it’s not really that Geto changed, moreso that he stagnated because he cut off all his relationships with other people.

And isn’t Yuji doing the exact same thing right now? Yaga even points out this similaritiy between Geto and Yuji, that they try to carry every regret and burden they have on their own.

It’s not out of selflessness that they do this though, but rather insecurity. Geto didn’t come to Gojo with his problems, because he wanted to be the strongest alongside Gojo he didn’t want to be weak. He was deliberately avoiding Gojo.

I think it’s important to establish that Yuji wasn’t abandoned by his friends this chapter. Yuji is alone, because he chose to be alone. He’s alone because he’s avoiding both of his friends, because he’s so, so afraid the friendship will end because it’s based entirely on the condition that he be a helpful, good person.

It’s true that Yuji is genuinely worried about his friends getting hurt because of him, but look at his choices. He’s not really tackling the problem in a healthy way. He’s doing everything he can to avoid the problem, isolating himself, and just trying not to think about things. He could try to talk with Megumi and find a solution, but he’s not doing that because he’s insecure in his attachment to others.

I think his reaction to Choso pretty clearly illustrates this too. Yuji isn’t around his friends because he doesn’t want to be around them. Which is tragic, because Yuji is holding himself responsible for the mass murder which isn’t really his fault. However, Yuji saw his relationship with both Nobara and Megumi as conditional to begin with. He can only be friends with people he can help, and he can never receive help from them. It’s unhealthy to start with because relationships go both ways. Yuji is also, completely unresponsive to Choso.

Yes. Choso suddenly walking to him and delcaring them brothers is really weird. I don’t expect Yuji to just suddenly start getting along with him right away.

At the same time, Choso explains what the unconditional love between family is between Yuji, and Yuji just doesn’t get it, because he either hasn’t experienced enough of it, or his grandpa the only person that ever unconditionally loved him is gone. Yuji can’t understand Megumi’s love for him is unconditional,. because from the beginning he sees all relationships as conditional.

Yuji and Choso are facing opposite direcitons because they’re opposites. Choso is willing to hurt complete strangers too, but his love for his family is unconditional and he will do anything for them. Yuji will help complete strangers, but, he doesn’t really understand unconditional love, and even his love with his closest friends has a few conditions.

Which is why someone who appears on the surface as such a friendly guy who makes friends everywhere he goes, can call himself “a loner” because in Yuji’s mind he is. He doesn’t have friends, he has people who need him.

Which is just incredibly sad because Yuji doesn’t understand this. Yuji isolates himself thinking he’s doing it for the sake of his friends, but neither Megumi nor Nobara would want him to be alone.

#yuji itadori #megumi fushigoro #kugisaki nobara #suguru geto #choso #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen meta #jjk 138 #jujutsu kaisen 138 #jujutsu kaisen

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redd956 · 2 years

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Rewrite/Extended Prompt 3

Sorry if my writing is too descriptive for a prompt. Is this really even a prompt anymore.

Villain enters through the oversized spruced up doors to one of the most expensive buildings in the city. Immediately their ears are swindled by the bustling of a local orchestra, and the chorus of chattering voices. Villain’s silhouette doesn’t stand out amongst the building’s inhabitants of fancily dressed wealthy individuals.

In fact Villain’s whole demeanor sweetly sings that they belonged there. With a smooth talking voice they dabble group to group. Person to person is greeted, over the top laughs are received, and Villain’s charm is greedily consumed by all those around them. Though Villain saunters by plenty of familiar faces, no one recognizes theirs.

Hours slowly tick by as Villain commits to their favorite way to gain intel. However their night isn’t lively or all too fun until Villain gets to tease Hero. They can already imagine that serious stoic face, proudly explaining its heroic achievements. Villain has always been surprised to Hero at these kind of gatherings. In the working field they do not show themselves as someone content with chatty sidekicks, and wealthy business partners.

Finally Villain’s eyes lands upon precious Hero. They know right away they have to enjoy the character’s oblivious presence. The smug smile that Villain’s lips are pressed into, quickly fades the closer they become to their rival. Something is so very off.

Hero’s normally lively face is flushed enough to shine the blush on their cheeks in a pinkish hue. Though Hero’s expression isn’t contorted in worry, they nervously fidget with their tight clothing. Hero teeters on the heels of their expensive shoes. A deep red cup of wine is being rotated idly in one palm. Their slightly slurred speech rambles onto an unfamiliar person. A person’s who sneer feels so much more diabolical than Villain’s.

Villain doesn’t think much of it, til after the grandiose party ended, when the suspicious person is the only thing keeping Hero standing. The person spoke commandingly to Hero, occasionally making exaggerated gestures or patting at Hero for emphasis. A few moments by, and they leave Hero leaning up against the building. The perfect chance to investigate.

Villain cheerily asks, “If it isn’t the city’s greatest in decades. How are you Mr. Hero?”

“Just...waiting”, Hero half breathes, their now heavily slurred speech weighing down their tone.

“Waiting for what?”

“Person promised to...take me home...”

Villain says it on whim, “Why don’t I take you home?”

“Sure”

Hero would never agree to let a stranger take them home. Villain just stands there, staring dumbfoundedly at their enemy. The thought of that diabolical smile returning, and a stupid IOU from three years ago powers Villain’s next course of action.

It is a hustle to get Hero to the car, better yet in it. Villain supports Hero by supporting them like a wounded soldier. The entire way down the building’s front steps, and down the still bustling sidewalk, Hero pointlessly babbles into Villain’s ear.

Villain fails to notice how Hero grows heavier. They fail to notice the babbling becoming completely incoherent and silent at odd intervals. Hero stops contributing to walking, the talking halts, and their breath slows. Once a few steps away from the car Hero slumps against Villain.

Villain swings the passenger car door open with one hand, carelessly stuffing Hero inside. They keep reiterating the old IOU in their head. You’ve saved my life, I save yours. You’ve saved my life, I save yours. After scrambling to get limp limbs out of the doors way, Villain quickly puts themself behind the wheel.

They glance over at the mess next to them. A strange rosiness warms their face. Hero is as awkwardly positioned in that seat as they can get.

They mumble one last thing before falling into a deep sleep, “Seat....belt...”

Of course. Villain heaves an exasperated huff, fumbling around to secure the needy Hero’s seatbelt. The car starts up. Villain drives the pairing away from the building, repeatedly checking the mirror for that suspicious person. When assured that the person is out of sight, Villain rules Hero’s house a place of compromised safety.

I will bring them to my apartment. It isn’t much, but it’s safer than Mr. Everyone Knows Where I Live Guy.

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alluringjae · 3 years

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au cours de l’été - jjh

⤑ translation: over the summer

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

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

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

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

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

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

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

⤑ masterlist

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

3 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)

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

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

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

“Jaehyun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”

12 juin 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

début de juillet 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s infatuated by you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“En voyant notre mine ravie,”

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

“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”

Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.

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

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

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

“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”

À la mi-juillet de 1957

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Call me that again, please.”

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

“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)

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

This time, it’s different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fin de juillet 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep them on when you ride me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”

16 octobre 1957

Autumn made its way to the countryside.

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

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

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

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

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

“Still breathtaking.”

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

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

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

“Write to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, what was he up to?

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

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

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

You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.

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

21 octobre 1957

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get to the point please!” You screeched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could the next summer come any faster?

14 février 1958

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your fairytale.

“Jaehyun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He spoke about me to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he your favorite muse?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So tell me about your new book.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What really went down in Provence?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.”

6 ans plus tard (1964)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?

It no longer did after getting married.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

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

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

Excluding being drenched from the rain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

890 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 3 years

Text

y/n is smitten with jungkook and it’s really, truly driving her crazy

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; university!au!! hello newbie bff!kook!! woohoo this is part one of a brand new mini-series!! honk honk humour!! boo hoo angst!! jungkook and y/n are bestie goals!! y/n feeds jungkook at one point which is pretty cute too

➺ wordcount; 5.3k

➺ summary; y/n finally decides to tell jungkook about her feelings for him and she doesn’t know if she’s ever been this nervous about anything before.

➺ what to expect; “when you like someone... do you think that you should tell them that you like them?”

»»————-　🖤　————-««

“i have special feelings for you.”

your face screws up in disgust as soon as the sentence comes out of your mouth and you shudder before shaking your head

‘special feelings’?!

you’re definitely scratching that one off the list

special feelings

way to sound like a creep

“c’mon, y/n,” you grumble, pushing yourself up from the sink before reaching up to knock against your forehead, “think, think, think...”

you’ve been in the washroom for the last half an hour just talking to yourself in the mirror and it’s safe to say that it hasn’t been a very productive half an hour because you’ve basically been spitting the same sentence out in increasingly cringeworthy ways

“...i think i like you?”

see, now why did you word that one like a question?

do you think you like him or do you actually like him??

where’s the confidence??

where’s the oomph factor?!

“no, wait, i mean-” you wince and quickly shake your head, “what i meant to say was that i think that i know that i like y- no, no, listen to me, i actually like you-”

well, if there’s one thing that can be said for sure, it’s that this is going absolutely nowhere

the past two months of your life has been consumed with you debating with yourself in your head about whether or not you should tell jungkook that you like him or if you should just bottle it up and keep your feelings shoved deep, deep inside your soul for the rest of your life and even the entirety of your afterlife

it was approximately a week ago that you finally decided it would be best to just put your big girl pants on and tell jungkook about your feelings for him because you know yourself and you feel like you might really go crazy if you don’t do anything about it

of course, you wouldn’t have come to that decision if it wasn’t for something he’d said during a library study session

"should you tell someone that you like them?”

“-!” you immediately choke on your water and quickly twist the cap back on the bottle before patting your chest lightly and looking up towards jungkook, “what?”

“when you like someone... do you think that you should tell them that you like them?” he asks, continuing to type away at his laptop as if he didn’t just ask you what seems to be a pretty loaded question, “or should you just keep it to yourself? to not accidentally make things weird, you know?”

why would he suddenly bring something like this up?

“i, um...” you clear your throat before offering him a halfhearted shrug, “well, i- i mean, if you- i think that if you have serious feelings for a person- like, if you know that it isn’t just a silly little crush-” you pause for a second to collect your thoughts so you can string them into a coherent sentence before going on, “okay, let me put it this way: if you know that your feelings for this person are genuine and that you really do want to pursue a romantic relationship with them, then, yeah. yeah, i think you should tell the person that you like them. because if you don’t, you’ll live the rest of your life wondering what would’ve happened if you did tell them, you know? if you do tell them about your feelings, then you don’t have to wonder ‘what if’ for the rest of your life.”

“huh.” jungkook looks up at you from his laptop before giving you a nod and a hum, “i guess you’re right... yeah, that makes sense. but what would you do if they didn’t feel the same way?”

you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously at his question and the little voice in the back of your head warns you to stay cool and definitely don’t get your hopes up

he can’t possibly be talking about you and him, can he?

...but if he’s not talking about you and him, then why would he bring the topic up in the first place?

oh my god. does jungkook like me too?

“well, i-” you can’t hide the soft smile on your face from the thought of jungkook having feelings for you but you quickly remind yourself that he hasn’t said anything like that at all and has really just asked you a simple question, “i don’t think you have anything to worry about, kook. you’re, like- you know, you’re super nice and funny and- yeah, i- i think if you told someone that you liked them, there would be a 100% chance of them liking you back.”

“do you really think so?” jungkook’s gaze softens and you feel your heart skip a beat at the sight

oh, god

you are so whipped for him, aren’t you?

“of course! i know so. is there- is there a reason why you asked?” you ask quickly as you lean forward, wanting to take advantage of the conversation before he loses interest in the topic

“well, i just wanted your opinion on it, because i feel like you always have something logical to say.” jungkook smiles, gently nudging your leg with his foot underneath the table, “i trust you.”

i trust you.

“i... i like you... and...” you frown at the piece of paper in your hands before looking back up at yourself in the mirror

perhaps it would be better to not follow your script word for word

this message should come from your heart, right? it shouldn’t come from a crumpled up piece of notebook paper that’s been living at the bottom of your backpack for the past week

you nod to yourself as you fold the sheet of paper in half before tucking it into your back pocket

“okay, i have something that i’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” you breathe out, shutting your eyes for a second to imagine his face in front of you before opening them again, “before you freak out, it’s really not that big of a deal. we are... we’ve been friends for- we are friends, and friends are honest with each other, so this is me being honest with you. i like you. i like you, as in, i have feelings for you. and to be completely honest, i’ve liked you for nearly a year now, which, i know is a pretty long time to have kept it a secret, but- i’ve tried multiple times to force myself to not like you but at this point it’s become clear that my feelings aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. i guess it doesn’t help that we basically spend every day together, right? anyways, if you don’t feel the same way, that’s completely fine. i promise i won’t let it ruin our friendship because i really do cherish you as a friend and the last thing i want is to make things weird, so... you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings, you know? i just want you to be honest with me, too. ...yeah.” you finish your little monologue with a smile as you give yourself a quick pat on the back

okay, not half bad!

it’s short, it’s sweet, you get straight to the point, you have a safety net to fall back on-

you jolt in surprise at the sound of a splash and a whoosh of a toilet flushing from one of the stalls behind you and you press your lips together tightly and look down when someone steps out

wonderful

you just gave someone a free show!

she doesn’t say a word as she steps up to the sink next to you, her bracelets clinking together as she scrubs her hands under the running water

she twists the tap off with a creak before leaning down to look underneath the mirror for the paper tissue dispenser

she stands back up before pointing towards the one under your mirror, “could you pass me some paper tissues?”

“uh, yeah, for sure-” you quickly reach under and yank a couple of paper tissues out of the dispenser before handing them over to her with a sheepish smile, “by the way, i was just- i was just practicing a monologue, so...” you clear your throat quietly and she gives you a stiff smile and a nod before turning to head towards the door

you mouth a silent ‘oh my god’ and reach up to bite your fist as soon as she turns away, your entire face now red from getting caught basically confessing your feelings to yourself in a dimly-lit restroom like a total weirdo

“hey-” the stranger turns to look at you from the door, “good luck with your- um, your monologue.” she smiles softly, a knowing glint in her eyes, “i hope it works out for you.”

“oh!” you return a smile while reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “uh, thank you. so do i.”

the door shuts with a slow creak and you exhale slowly before turning to face yourself in the mirror again before chuckling lightly, “god, so do i.”

»»————-　🖤　————-««

before you freak out, it’s really not that big of a deal...

you adjust the strap of your backpack as you push the door open and step out of the bathroom, a blast of cool air from the library immediately making the hairs on your arms prickle to life

we’re friends, and friends are honest with each other, so this is me being honest with you...

you reach down to press your palm flat over your tummy when you feel it rumble

i like you, as in, i have feelings for you...

you and jungkook are supposed to meet for lunch today and that’s when you decided you were going to tell him, but now you’re starting to wonder if maybe you can push it to tomorrow or something because you’re starting to get really, really nervous

i’ve liked you for nearly a year now, which, i know is a pretty long time to have kept it a secret. i’ve tried multiple times to force myself to not like you but at this point it’s become clear that my feelings aren’t going anywhere anytime soon...

the smell of freshly-baked pizza suddenly tickles at your nose and you look up to see that muscle memory has already brought you to the building that you’re meeting jungkook at

if you don’t feel the same way, that’s completely fine. i promise i won’t let it ruin our friendship because i really do cherish you as a friend and the last thing i want is to make things weird...

“okay, y/n. you’ve got this.” you mutter, looking at the doors of the building as you straighten your back, “everything is going to be-”

“hey, there you are!”

you grunt in surprise when you’re suddenly being tackled from behind, strong arms wrapping themselves around you and lifting you up for a split second before you’re being set back down on the ground again

“jesus, kook-” you immediately spin around and grab onto jungkook’s forearms to keep yourself steady as you wait for your eyeballs to stop rolling around in your skull, “someone’s certainly in a good mood today!”

“i’ve been thinking about pizza ever since i woke up!” he chirps, turning you back around before pushing you towards the doors eagerly, “let’s go, let’s go, let’s go-”

“alright, alright-” you laugh lightly, smiling as jungkook brushes past you to hold the door open for you, “how did your midterm go?”

“actually, it went a lot better than i expected!” jungkook nods enthusiastically as the two of you join the queue of hungry students

he turns to glance at you for a second before raising his head slightly so he can take a look at the menu up front, “i think the mock quiz you made for me really helped.”

“hey, that’s good! that’s good.” you nod slowly, pausing for a second before clearing your throat, “hey, by the way- there was something that i wanted to talk to you about.”

“ooh, i actually have something that i want to talk to you about, too.” jungkook grins before leaning over to nudge your side with his elbow, “i think you’re going to like what i have to say.”

“i- i am?” you raise an eyebrow, “well, what do you want to talk ab-”

“yeah, four slices of pepperoni, please.”

“to go or for here?”

you don’t get a chance to say anything else because the two of you are already up at the front and you shut up before hurrying to grab your wallet

“for here, please. and... hold on, gimme a sec-” jungkook pulls his student card out of his wallet before handing it to the cashier, “and an order of cheesy garlic knots too. oh, and also, two little cup-thingys of garlic aioli. what do you want to drink?” he turns to look at you and you blink owlishly before realizing that he’s paying for all of the food

“oh, you don’t have to-” you raise your own student card, “i can pay for the knots-”

“relax, you can just get it next time.” jungkook snorts before nodding towards the drinks in the back, “what do you wanna drink?”

“oh, okay, i-” you narrow your eyes to look at the drinks before nodding, “can i get a lemon iced tea, please?”

“i’ll just get a coke.”

you stay quiet as jungkook pays for the meal, the cashier handing him the receipt a second later

“do you wanna find a table for us before it gets too crowded?” jungkook turns back to look at you before taking his bag off his shoulder, “here- put my bag on the seat so no one will take it.”

“’mkay, got it.”

it seems that lady luck is on your side today when you end up spotting two empty stools facing the windows and you hurry your way over before anyone else grabs the seats

you carefully weave your way around the tables, being careful not to knock into anyone’s chairs or the back of anyone’s head (it happened to you once and it was not a pleasant feeling.)

you grin in success as you set jungkook’s bag down on the first one before settling yourself down on the second one

everything is working out wonderfully today!

“oop-” you feel a little crunch in your back pocket when you sit down and you lift yourself up for a second to quickly reach behind and- “oh-” your eyes widen in panic when you realize that you just pulled out what’s basically your love letter to jungkook and you hurry to take your backpack off so you can quickly put it away

“y/n, the nice girl gave me a brownie on the house!”

you feel your anxiety skyrocket through the roof when you hear jungkook’s voice coming up behind you and all the alarms begin to blare at the sight of the note that’s still in your hand

“we can share it!” jungkook chirps, now standing right behind you with a tray full of food, “can you lift my bag for a second?”

“uh, yes! yes, i-” you grab jungkook’s bag off the chair with a grunt and plop it down on your lap next to your own backpack before turning to look at kook with a smile, “free brownie again? that was nice of her.” you blindly feel for an opening on your bag before shoving the note into it right as jungkook gets settled next to you

pheW

crisis averted

“i know, right? i think she might like me- or maybe she likes you, i don’t know-”

“i’m pretty sure you’re the one she’s batting her lashes at, kook,” you snort, turning to glance back towards the front counter to see one of the girls staring in your guys’ direction with a dreamy smile on her face, “i feel like she’d behead me if i touched your brownie.”

“it’s okay, we can still share it- oh my god, everything smells so good.” jungkook slides the box of garlic knots with a little cup of aioli sitting on top of it over to you, “let me get a couple of bites in before i start talking- you want a bite of pizza?”

“mm-mm, i’m fine with my garlic knots.” you smile, popping the flimsy paper box open and immediately being hit in the face with the rich scent of butter and garlic, “wanna try?” you ask, tearing a chunk off one of them before dipping it into the sauce

“mm, gimme.” jungkook leans over before opening his mouth eagerly and chomping at the air and you can’t help but giggle before feeding him the bite

a minute or so ticks by where the two of you sit in comfortable silence and you chew thoughtfully as you stare out the window

you feel good!

you feel good about this

you feel like all the lights are green and all you have to do is rev the engine and slam down on the gas

you know what to say, you know exactly how to say it, and you’ve planned out all possible routes of how this conversation with jungkook might go

a) the 'oh my god, this is really happening’ scenario: you tell him you like him, he tells you he likes you back = you’ll enjoy each other’s company for the rest of lunch and maybe he’ll hold your hand when he walks you to your next class afterwards

b) the 'you’re a really good friend, but no’ scenario: you tell him you like him, he tells you that he doesn’t feel the same way and that he just wants to be friends = you tell him that it’s completely fine and that you’ll get over it, you’ll enjoy each other’s company for the rest of lunch and afterwards he will definitely not hold your hand when he walks you to your next class which is fine because friends don’t hold hands with friends

c) the ‘yikes, this is awkward’ scenario: you tell him you like him, he reacts with discomfort and mild disgust = you’re slightly offended but you still tell him that you understand anD that you’re willing to give him as much time and space as he needs, and you’ll walk to class alone

...you really, really hope it’s not the last scenario that unfolds.

“-said yes!” jungkook slaps a hand down on the sticky metal counter before letting out a laugh, “can you believe it?”

oh god

you’ve been so in your head this whole time that you completely missed the exciting news that jungkook was waiting all day to tell you about

do you want to ask him to repeat himself or do you want to pretend like you were listening to him the whole time?

“that’s... i’m so... happy for you...?” you trail off sheepishly, jungkook turning to look at you before snorting

“you weren’t listening to me, were you?”

“i was!” you argue before gesturing out the window, “i totally was, i was just- i was just a little distracted because of the pigeons outside-”

“okay, well, let me just tell you again-” jungkook wipes his greasy fingers on a napkin before turning to face you slightly, his knees knocking against the side of your legs, “i finally did it. i finally grew a pair and i finally asked ji-eun out and she said YES!”

“hey, look at you go! that’s so-” you immediately clam up when his words finally settle into the deepest depths of your brain and you feel your heart plummet to your stomach

...

oh.

well, it looks like you weren’t as prepared as you thought you were

d) the ‘i just asked someone out so i clearly don’t have feelings for you’ scenario: you don’t get a chance to tell jungkook about your feelings for him, jungkook tells you that he likes someone else, and you...

what do you do?

“hey, what’s the matter?” jungkook frowns, tilting his head before reaching over to give your shoulder a shake, “you haven’t said anything in, like, a minute.”

you didn’t even know he was interested in someone else

the name ji-eun sounds a little familiar to you — now that you think about it, you’re fairly sure jungkook’s brought her up before (something something i sit next to this girl something something she’s nice and she let me borrow a pen something something along those lines)

she’s in his sociology class, you think?

“-great!” you blurt out, forcing a bright smile on your face as you look over at him, “sorry, i just- i was just processing your great news so i guess my brain just shut off for a second- that’s so... great, kook. super great.”

“isn’t it?!” jungkook clasps his hands together before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth, his eyes all wide and twinkly, “i mean, i was actually surprised she said yes, you know? i practiced what i was going to say to her all week- i stumbled over my words a couple of times but if anything i think she found it endearing...”

jungkook’s voice starts to fade out in the background as you turn to look back out the window

the chunk of bread in your mouth feels like it’s getting bigger and bigger as you continue to chew

suddenly you’ve lost your appetite

okay

well

this is... this is fine.

this is fine, right?

if anything, this is great news!

at least now you know that jungkook definitely doesn’t feel the same way, which is... fine!

it’s fine

and it’s a good thing that he started babbling first because you can’t even imagine what would’ve happened if you’d spewed your news out first

once again: crisis averted!

you let out a little sigh as your shoulders droop slightly

you had prepared yourself for what to do if jungkook didn’t feel the same way about you... so why does it feel like you’re flailing around in the middle of the ocean trying desperately to keep your head above the water?

“to be honest, i probably wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for what you said to me in the library last week,” jungkook hums, “you know, about how you should go for it otherwise you’ll be left wondering ‘what if’ for the rest of your li-”

“yeah, yeah, i remember.” you interrupt him a little more crassly than intended before reminding yourself to loosen up, “i- yeah. i remember. i’m glad i could help.”

“oh, and you have to help me plan the date- everything has to be perfect.” jungkook reaches over to poke a finger into your arm, “you know i’m no good at all the mushy romance stuff, but you certainly are.”

“well, i-” you let out a nervous chuckle before shrugging, “i mean, everyone’s different, you know? i, um... i don’t know if it’s a good idea that i help you plan out the date and stuff because- you know, i... i don’t know anything about ji-eun! you know more than i do, so i probably won’t be able to-”

“i feel like dinner and a movie would be super boring.” jungkook sighs as he folds his grease-stained paper plate in half before pushing it away, “i mean, i definitely still wanna take her out for food and stuff, but-”

“i would argue that a dinner and a movie is a good first date,” you shake your head, “you know, you get to talk and get to know each other during the dinner, and then during the movie, you don’t have to talk to each other for like, an hour and forty minutes so you get a bit of break.”

“i mean, i guess, but... oh, shit, i’m sorry.” jungkook winces, suddenly perking up a little, “you said you wanted to talk to me about something, right? tell me about your thing first before we plan my date.”

“my thing?” your lashes flutter and you feel your ears starting to get hot at the reminder of what exactly your thing is, “oh, god, i- it’s nothing, now that i think about it. it was something... it was something silly, so- like, i don’t even remember what i wanted to- it’s stupid. it was stupid, it’s nothing.” you chuckle uncomfortably as you rub at the back of your neck, “let’s just keep- let’s just keep planning your date! i wanna keep planning your date.”

“okay, well- if you change your mind at any point, i’m all ears.”

“mhm.” you nod as you swirl the chunk of bread around in the aioli absentmindedly before letting go of it, “got it.”

“ooh, i’ve got it!” your eyes widen when jungkook suddenly reaches over and takes your hands in his, forcing your stool to swivel around so that you’re face-to-face with him, “imagine that i asked you out on a date.”

“u-us? on a date?” you swallow thickly, “that- that’s so dumb, kook-”

“no, listen, listen-” he chuckles, giving your hands a squeeze, “if i asked you out on a date, what would we do together?”

“well, i...” you look down at your hands in his (and for a second you can’t help but feel as though your hands just fit together perfectly) as you think of what to say, “we... we like pizza, right? i think, like- we could order a pizza and a box of garlic knots and maybe have some kind of a picnic on the rooftop of your apartment building. i mean- you’d probably have to decorate the rooftop first with a bunch of little twinkly lights and you’d have to lay out a blanket and some pillows to make it comfortable, otherwise we’d just be sitting in the dark on the cold, hard ground, but- yeah. i... i think that would be really nice. because it’s an intimate setting and it gives us the chance to talk in private, and we could literally stay up there all night if we wanted to and... you know, watch the sun rise and stuff. so... if we went out on a date, that’s what we would do together.”

the little voice in the back of your head suddenly reminds you (quite cruelly) that you, in fact, were not asked out by jungkook and you won’t be having a romantic rooftop picnic with him and you immediately pull your hands away from his before laughing nervously, “but you know, that’s just an idea, so you don’t have to take it.”

your face feels hot as you turn away from jungkook and you look down at your cold garlic knots before reaching over to shut the lid and push it away

“mm... no, i actually like that!” jungkook nods eagerly, “i like that a lot- i mean, a rooftop picnic is a little cheesy, but i think ji-eun will think it’s cute!”

“great!” you clear your throat, “as long as ji-eun thinks it’s cute, i think it’s great-”

“will you help me set it up?”

great.

he’s really rubbing salt into your wound, isn’t he?

“i... of course! i would love to.” you smile stiffly before lifting the sleeve of your hoodie to check the time on your watch, “so, i'm gonna head out, i think- i need to get to my next class early if i wanna get a good spot-”

“mm, okay-” jungkook slurps up the rest of his coke before shaking the empty paper cup, “i can walk you there! i’m done for the day so i think i’m just going to go hang out in the library- ooh, i can plan out my date while i wait for you-”

“oh, you don’t have to walk me to class, it’s fine.” you dismiss him with a flick of your wrist as you pull your backpack on, wanting desperately to just end the conversation so you can get the hell out of here, “i can just meet you in the library after i’m done.”

“are you sure?” he frowns, reaching over to pick up your box, “hey, you didn’t finish your garlic knots-”

“i know, i just- i guess i wasn’t super hungry.” you shrug, “you can take them if you want! you paid for them, so...”

“okay, in that case, i’m just gonna hang out here and finish up these knots and then i’ll go to the library.” jungkook plops back down on his seat before reaching over to punch your arm gently, “text me when you’re done, bud!”

»»————-　🖤　————-««

“-now, for this next portion, i just want you to take some notes down on your computers or your notebooks or whatever you have- think about any thematic concerns in the poem that stand out to you...”

you draw circles on the blank page of your notebook in disinterest as the sound of your professor’s voice drones on and on in the background and your mind immediately takes you back to what just went down with jungkook

your hand freezes on the page and you let out a quiet little huff

damnit!

you said that you weren’t going to be all mopey if things didn’t work out, but here you are, all sad and droopy and very much radiating woe-is-me energy

all you know now is that you’re going to take your feelings out on a big ol’ pint of ice cream tonight

by the way, you should probably throw out your little love letter because you certainly don’t need any embarrassing reminders of what you were going to say to jungkook

you don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened if you told him you liked him before he told you that he’d just asked someone out

you set your pen down before leaning down to unzip your backpack, reaching in and blindly rummaging around for a crumpled up piece of paper

...

you frown, leaning down further to get your arm deeper into your bag

your fingers bump up against your planner, your wallet, your water bottle and your pencil case, but...

that’s odd

you roll your eyes in frustration as you pull your backpack up off the ground and plop it down on your lap with a fwump!, unzipping it all the way and opening it up so you can get a better look inside

you pull everything out and set your belongings down on the small table one by one, being careful not to make too much noise as to distract the professor

you’re more than confused as you stare into your empty bag after taking all the contents out of it

what?

where the hell is it?

you reach into the side pockets and you’re disappointed when you end up pulling out old tissues and empty gum wrappers

it’s not in the front pocket either — just your key, a pack of bubblegum, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer

your brows knit together in deep thought as you settle back against your seat, your eyes flickering to the side as you-

you immediately pale

oh my god.

you’re positive that your heart stops beating for three whole seconds the moment you realize where exactly the note is — because no, you idiot, you didn’t shove it into your own bag earlier-

the note is in jungkook’s bag.

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles/mini series like this one!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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alovesongshewrote · 2 years

Text

Is There a Doctor on this Plane? (Yes, yes there is.) - P2 | Eddie Munson x Reader

Plot: Eddie faces the consequences of his run into danger, and you, a med-student, stay by his side. Or you try to. You do need to eat. [Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral!Reader] Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Word count: 3,281

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR STRANGER THINGS SEASON FOUR, VOLUME 2. hospitals, nightmares, horror elements, reader experiences mild hallucinations

Disclaimer 1: Uh, yeah, fuck netflix, and fuck whoever came up with having a "stranger things experience" in a former n*zi prison where jewish and romani people were exterminated. that's an incredibly fucked up thing to do, and i do not support or endorse it.

Disclaimer 2: I know we have fun here reading self insert fics about eddie munson the fictional character, but for the love of god do not go to his actor's house. i doubt anyone in my particular audience would get up to that shit, but still, it's worth saying.

Tags: @twistedhistory

Hours after you escaped the Upside Down, you were behind the wheel of Steve’s car. You were also in an entirely different state. And you were in a hospital parking lot. Eddie was in said hospital, Dustin was back in Hawkins, and you? You were alone.

That really wasn’t a good thing to be.

Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Eddie’s lifeless body lying in Dustin’s arms. You had to remind yourself that he was alive, that you had saved him, but it really wasn’t working out. All you could think of was his ribs cracking beneath your hands. All you could remember was the moment you realized his pulse had stopped. All you could see was Dustin, a child, weeping over the bloodied body of his friend because you had failed them.

You saw it happen, over and over and over again. You were so, so tired of it. You had no peace. Even when you slept all you saw was Eddie suffering and Dustin crying. All of your failures were painted out before you, and there was no escape.

What’s more, you were kind of pissed at Eddie. You didn’t want to be pissed at Eddie- what he did was brave, and he was a hero, and you loved him- but that was all part of it in the end. You loved him. You needed him. And you weren’t the only one who did. He had friends and loved ones, he had a life, and a future, and he was willing to give up on all of it for a few minutes of extra time that you weren’t sure anyone actually needed. You were so angry, and so hurt, and you felt like it was your fault- like you didn’t do enough to stop him.

It was too much. Your feelings were tearing you apart, ripping into you like the demobats had just hours before. Guilt ate at your ribs, anger mauled your heart to pieces, and grief threatened to consume every part of you.

So, you rolled up the windows of Steve’s car, and you screamed until your throat was raw. You sobbed, mourning loudly and angrily. You hit the steering wheel over and over again, taking your aggression on a very undeserving car. You broke down, and you broke down hard, and when you were done, you just felt empty. Tired. Lonely.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself now. Eddie was safe with professionals more experienced than you. Dustin was safe with everyone else in Hawkins. Your own injuries had been checked over, and you had been discharged. What else could you do?

You felt lost- so, so fucking lost. And it made you think of your high school graduation of all things.

In your senior year, you weren’t sure what you were going to do with your life. You had ambitions, aspirations, but you were too much of a coward to consider them seriously. It was Eddie who had encouraged you to leave Hawkins. He wanted you to achieve your goals. He wanted you to succeed. He wanted you to do what he couldn’t and run like hell out of Hawkins. And you did.

You remembered the day your admission letter came in from your first choice university- he was more excited than you were. If you remembered correctly, he literally jumped up and down. You thought it was adorable, honestly, so, of course, you laughed at him. In retaliation, he pulled you up from your desk and made you get excited with him- and once you had, he teased you gently. His eyes were bright, and his laugh and his smile were blinding, shining like gold in your memories.

You remembered the day you graduated, where, once again, he was more excited than you. That night, you really couldn’t leave each other alone. While the rest of the graduating class went out to parties and social celebrations, you and Eddie had your own little party involving several movies and a teensy bit of underage drinking. You fell asleep leaning against him that night, with your head on his shoulder and his arm around your waist.

You remembered the day you left Hawkins. He helped you pack. He reassured you when you started to doubt yourself. He helped you move your things into your car. When that was done, he found you standing in your empty room, staring at the now barren walls.

“You okay?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“I am. Or, I think I am, it’s just,” you turned to face him, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’m flattered, sweetheart. Aaaaabsolutely flattered,” he crossed the room until he was standing in front of you, and he gently cradled your face in his hands, “But you’ve gotta leave the Shire now, little hobbit. It’s your time.”

“Hey!” you laughed, pulling away from his hold, “I am not a hobbit!”

“Mmm, are you sure about that?”

“I am not a hobbit, you dick!”

He gasped, throwing himself back with a hand over his heart, “You wound me, you foul hobbit creature!”

“You little- get over here!” you smacked him on the arm a few thousand times until you were both laughing your asses off. Of course, you didn’t really hurt him, but that didn’t stop him from complaining.

“Ow, ow! You’re gonna leave bruises. What are your hands made of? Steel?”

“Mithril, actually,” you said with a smirk. Your smile was quick to fall, though, as you took Eddie in for what you knew would be one of the last times for a long while.

“Hey,” he asked, reaching out and poking your face, “What’s wrong, (L/N)?”

“I-” you cut yourself off, trying to choke down the tears that, to your horror, were springing to your eyes, “I’m just gonna miss you.”

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be a doctor or something? I thought you were smarter than that.”

You pouted at him, giving his arm another whack. He laughed at you, but his voice changed from teasing to comforting in an instant, “What I mean to say is, everything’s gonna be okay, okay? It’s not like this is goodbye forever. You’ll come back and visit, and you’ll be an awesome doctor who fixes sprained bones-”

“You know it’s broken bones.”

“Do I? I mean, I’m not the doctor here, so-”

“Oh, shut up. Y’know, you’re gonna regret teasing me one day,” you for the door, casting a glance his way, “Walk me out, would you ”

He did. He walked you out of your house, and kind of walked you out of his life for the next two years. He missed you, of course, and you missed him. But Eddie really believed that it was for the best that you escape Hawkins. You had bigger and better things to do with your life than stick around and wait for him.

And yet, that was exactly what you were doing. You were sitting in Steve “the Hair” Harrington’s car, in a hospital parking lot, and you were waiting for him. It was almost funny how much he would hate that. How much he would hate you sitting idle, doing nothing, waiting for him. He would hate how much effort you’d gone through to save him. He would hate how much you loved him, if he knew. After all, it was him- HIM. He never thought he was worth it, but you always did.

So, you waited. You waited, and you promised yourself that you would never leave him again.

You did need to eat though. And shower. You still had Upside-Down juice all over you, after all. With a shaky breath, you started the car and went back to the dorm room that you’d left Eddie for in the first place. The dorms were relatively abandoned, your university peers taking off for the break so that they could relax, have some fun, and maybe see their loved ones. That had been your plan once.

It was almost funny how quickly things had changed. Instead of relaxing, the boy you’d pined for years was almost instantly accused of a murder he didn’t commit. Instead of having fun, you had to fight monsters in an alternate dimension. And as for your loved ones? I feel like that question answers itself.

The door to your dorm room opened with a creak. You took a few steps in before you practically melted to the floor in a puddle of anguish. You didn’t have any more tears left in you that night, so you kind of just laid there, empty. You barely had the strength to get up and shower, and once you did, you instantly collapsed into bed. You were drained. You were done. You just needed a nap. You drifted off slowly, your eyes fluttering shut as your mind finally fell to darkness and peace.

Obviously, that didn’t last.

When you opened your eyes, you were back there, in the Upside Down. The air around you was freezing, and filled with those fucking particles that got stuck in your hair. You tried to take a step forward, but you found that you could not move your feet. You were stuck, frozen solid in the middle of this hell dimension.

You could hear coughing- someone choking on their own blood as they tried to gasp out their last breaths. It was the sound of a dying man. The sound was sick, wet, and at first, faint. Then, as the world around you flickered, it grew louder, louder and louder until it surrounded you. You could practically feel the desperate gasps in your chest. Your throat hurt as if you were the one choking. When you finally gained the mobility to look down, your body was covered in blood.

His blood.

You gasped. The noise was sharp and hard, and it silenced the world around you- but only for a moment.

The next sound you heard was the cracking of bones.

His bones, beneath your hands, snapping and giving way to the force you applied as you tried to save his life. Your bones, snapping and bending as punishment for something- for failing him. You’d failed him, you’d let him die, and as your mouth filled with the taste of blood, you remembered his lifeless eyes burning into yours.

And then, you didn’t have to remember.

Then, his body was on the ground in front of you, lying broken and dead, slowly rotting away as you watched. You didn’t have to remember because your brain wouldn’t let you forget.

Your breath came harder, faster, as you watched the face of the man you loved dissolve before you. Your heart raced as his skin split, revealing blood and sinew beneath it. A panic attack hit you as you watched him die, again and again.

The screeching of those goddamned bats filled the air as you fell to your knees. You wanted to scream with them, but your voice simply refused to work. Instead, your body was racked with silent sobs as you dealt with the fallout of your failures. You could hear his voice in your head- his last words, his cries of pain, all of it.

It killed you inside, and you let it, and even when your eyes snapped open and you finally woke up from that wretched nightmare, you could still hear him.

You didn’t manage to fall asleep again that night.

When the sun rose, you just kind of glared at it before pulling yourself out of bed and forcing yourself to get ready for the day. You looked a little worse for wear, but quite honestly, you couldn’t be paid to give a shit. You had things to do.

The first thing was to get breakfast. You hadn’t eaten the night before, and somehow, your nightmare hadn’t destroyed your appetite. You were almost impressed with yourself on that front.

The second thing you had to do was figure out a way to contact Dustin and everyone else back in Hawkins. Primarily, you wanted to make sure that they were okay, and that they knew you and Eddie were alive. You also assumed that Dustin and Eddie’s uncle would either want more details on Eddie’s condition, or they’d want to venture out for a visit. Either way, you needed to communicate with them for that to work. You knew vague things about Dustin’s whole “Cerebro” project, but you weren’t sure how it functioned. If Eddie was awake, you would’ve asked him, but he wasn’t, and you were still alone. You knew your roommate had left some kind of radio/walkie-talkie thing in your dorm. You turned it on and left it that way, just in case. You were really just throwing spaghetti at the wall and hoping for the best with that one, but at this point, when were you not?.

The last thing you had to do was actually check on Eddie. You kind of dreaded that part.

The hospital smelled like chemicals and cleaning products. Honestly, you weren’t sure what else you expected. The walls and floors were a blinding white. Fluorescents flickered slightly, lighting the building in an unsettling way. The air was chilled, which only served to remind you of the nightmare you had the night before. Fantastic. Just fantastic.

The hallways felt impossibly long- as if they stretched out past oblivion and into nothingness. Part of you wished that you could just follow them into the void, but you couldn’t. You had something more important to do.

You hesitated before you pushed open the door to Eddie’s room. You were illogically scared of what you would find behind it, kind of expecting to see a corpse lying in the hospital bed. The sad thing is, you weren’t far off.

Eddie looked like absolute shit. Dark bags had formed under his eyes. His already pale skin was borderline translucent. Dark bruises outlined his face and covered his arms. Red stitches glared at you from his pale skin. He was plugged into a billion tubes. Each of the tubes served a purpose- each one of them kept him functioning. The heart monitor at his side beeped at a constant rhythm. His chest moved slowly, up and down, and up and down, and up and down again. He was alive. You knew he was alive. Everything told you he was alive.

But if you didn’t know better, you could’ve mistaken him for a dead man. A corpse waiting to be wheeled off to the morgue. He looked so fragile like this. Weak, almost. It felt wrong.

The nurses and doctors had done an excellent job of patching him up, a job that was far beyond your capabilities, but it still hurt so much to see him like this. It felt like it was your fault, and it felt like it was his, and you were just so tired, and so angry, and so empty, and before you knew it, you were in tears.

You weren’t sure if he could hear you crying, but you knew that if he could, this would be a special kind of torture for him. Hearing you cry, knowing that he caused it and there was nothing he could do about it? Honestly, he’d probably rather die. Sucks to be him, I guess.

You sighed, and all but collapsed into a shitty hospital chair near his bed, “You’re a huge asshole,” you whispered, “You know that, right?”

He didn’t respond. Of course he didn’t. You continued anyway.

“You almost fucking died on me. And on the kid. That’s a dick move, Munson, even if you did help save the world. He’s gonna carry that with him for the rest of his life, y’know? And Steve, Nancy, Robin, they all saw what kind of shape you were in, they aren’t gonna forget that. And I- I’m-” your voice threatened to break, “Well, you don’t need to know that, do you?”

You paused before continuing, “You’re safe now, by the way. So is the kid. Dustin’s in Hawkins, and you are not there because I’m not in the mood to see you get your ass handed to you by an angry mob. I rolled a metaphorical nat twenty saving you last time, I don’t want to try and do that again.”

Another pause, then, “You scared me, y’know? I… I thought I lost you. I did lose you for a second there, and I mean, we aren’t out of the woods yet, I might lose you again. And I’m not the only one who would lose something. Your uncle, Dustin, and your friends. I-”

You paused, taking a moment to dry your tears. The next time you spoke, your voice was much quieter.

“Please don’t make me lose you again. Don’t make us lose you again.”

You sat in relative silence for a few moments, just watching him breathe for a moment. The beeping of the heart monitor continued on. It was almost a comforting sound. Combined with the general chatter of the hospital outside, you found yourself nearing sleep.

When your eyes shut, images of Eddie’s face, covered with blood and contorted with pain, flashed through your mind. You jolted back up, nearly falling out of your seat.

“Jesus-!” you exclaimed, “Jesus…”

You put your head in your hands and sighed. You tried to shut your eyes again, hoping for peace. Instead, all you got were flashes of memories that you would much rather forget. As you looked up, those flashes bled into the real world, and for a moment, Eddie’s living breathing body was replaced with a corpse.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck,” you hissed, “I- I can’t be here right now. I have to go, I can’t-”

You stood, quickly collecting your things. You made a beeline for the door across the room, but before you left you stopped. You took a few steps towards Eddie. His eyes were closed. He still looked dead, but when you thought about it, you realized he also looked calm. Relaxed. You hoped that, wherever his mind was, he was okay. Even though this wasn’t the best way to go about it, you had to admit, he deserved a break.

“I’ll come back soon, okay? And-” you slipped one of your hands into his, squeezing it, “And you’d better be here when I get back. Got that?”

He didn’t respond. Of course he didn’t. Still, you squeezed his hand again and whispered, “Good.”

When you got into the elevator, you completely broke down for what felt like the billionth time in the past few days. Tears fell from your eyes faster than you could wipe them away. Every attempt you made to catch your breath was met with failure. You felt so tired and so empty, and you just wanted to sleep, but you COULDN’T, because of the NIGHTMARES.

You needed a coffee. You needed a coffee so badly.

Not wanting to spend another second in the suffocating antiseptic-smelling air of the hospital, you took off for your dorm, almost breaking several traffic laws on your way over. The second you got in, you started your coffee maker. The soft sound of bubbling water soothed you as you removed your jacket and shoes. You collapsed on your bed and let yourself listen, trying to relax for just a second.

Just as your eyes fluttered shut, a sharp static sound cut through the calming sounds of your coffee pot. The radio.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N), if you can hear this, come in. This is Dustin, I repeat, this is Dustin. (Y/N), if you can hear this-”

“Dustin!” you exclaimed, grabbing the radio, “I’m here! I can hear you. I’m here.”

#x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things spoilers #stranger things volume 2 spoilers

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